Sauvignon Blanc, in Chang'an.

Luowei cries in autumn at Jinjinglan,

The light frost is desolate and the mat is cold.

The solitary lamp cannot be understood and I am heartbroken.

I roll up the curtains and look at the moon and sigh.

Beauty is like a flower in the clouds.

There is the high sky of Qingming above,

There are the waves of Lu River below.

It is hard for the soul to fly even though the world is far away.

It is difficult for the dream soul to reach Guanshan.

Sauvignon Blanc is heartbreaking.