In the storm, my monologue

Yi Shushan, tears have dried up.
Don't ask too much, strong clothes.
Green bamboo nine turns, it is difficult to change.
When the grindstone says a word, how can it be uneasy?
Pity me thinking, the moon is also bent.
The Iraqis have no traces.
Sadness goes, leaving regrets.
One person, He Ping He Tan.
I don’t see the road wide, leaving me alone.
If there is an afterlife, I will not give up.
Lonely glass of wine, not drinking.