When we grow old gracefully

The palm prints of time are very delicate,

The sound of friction is too slight to be heard,Can't hear it.

We are here in the sun and the moon

Growing old slowly,

Age gracefully.

Can’t hide sadness,Can’t hide happiness.

When we grow old,Touch the yellowed photo with rough hands;

When our hair turns gray,Quietly recalling the lost,Missed,

Is there an illusion,Those things that happened were just dreams,

After waking up from the dream,Leave a sigh,A calm feeling.

Recalling the lush sycamore branches in the yard,

What blooms is the past that has nothing to do with romance,

And faint memories.

Young and green years,

It seems that the slight fragrance of mint still remains,

Every detail is so familiar.

humming those old songs from the past,

Reciting the poems I once loved,

Looking through the yellowed photo album,

The years pass by in your hands,

Left,

It is a head full of silver threads, in the afterglow of the setting sun

A dizzying light.

Slowly, open your eyes gently,

I just discovered those scenes of aging,

It’s just a clip edited in a dream.

Smile in the mirror,

Now,We are still young,

How lucky,

We still have the best time to sway and collide.

And when the pace of time slowly speeds up,

If it’s too late, put the memories in a beautiful melody,

Everything will be a thing of the past.

When the lines of time become increasingly clear,

We too will grow old.

If we grow old gracefully,I just hope I will still remember you,My friend.

If we grow old gracefully,I just hope that your smile will be in my memory, my friend.

Elegance requires capital,

That capital is what we have in our hands,

World, future,

And will eventually become memories,

In the Mood for Love.