Ai Qing Zhuan Yi (愛情轉移)

How many windows have I wandered past? How many hotels have I stayed in?

When will I feel that parting isn't so unfair?

Is love meant to be browsed? Or is it meant to be treasured?

So that every day can be unforgettable?

How long have I endured hardships? How many eyes have been moist?

Only then can I understand that sorrow is the legacy of love?

How many double beds have I slept in? How many beliefs have I changed?

What led to the rings being exchanged without hesitation?

Transferring the warmth of one person to another's chest.

Letting past mistakes reflect dreams.

Everyone is like this, enjoying the thrill of anxiety.

Only then can we reject being a scapegoat for love.

Memories are like elusive moonlight; grasping it only leads to darkness.

Waiting for the false shadows to disappear in the clarity.

Sunlight flows on my body, waiting for all sins to be forgiven.

Does love never stop? How brave do I need to be to journey into eternity?

Candlelight illuminates the dinner, but it can't reveal the answer.

Romance isn’t just a warm invitation to a meal.

Petals cover the sheets, and the embrace helps it grow.

If it's too crowded, I'll have to move to different soil.

Relationships need successors; closeness brings expectations.

Expectations create a vicious cycle of disappointment.

Short moments are always romantic, but the long stretches lead to dissatisfaction.

Burning through beautiful youth, trading it for an old partner.

Transferring the warmth of one person to another's chest.

Letting past mistakes reflect dreams.

Everyone is like this, enjoying the thrill of anxiety.

Only then can we reject being a scapegoat for love.

Memories are like elusive moonlight; grasping it only leads to darkness.

Waiting for the false shadows to disappear in the clarity.

Sunlight flows on my body, waiting for all sins to be forgiven.

Does love never stop? How brave do I need to be to journey into eternity?

Transferring the warmth of one person to another's chest.

Letting past mistakes reflect dreams.

Everyone is like this, enjoying the thrill of anxiety.

Only then can we reject being a scapegoat for love.

Memories are like elusive moonlight; grasping it only leads to darkness.

Waiting for the false shadows to disappear in the clarity.

Sunlight flows on my body, waiting for all sins to be forgiven.

Does love never stop? How brave do I need to be to journey into eternity?

Don't be disappointed; heartfelt emotions are meant for the most beautiful ordinary.