It rains heavily during Qingming Festival,

Pedestrians on the road want to die.

May I ask where the restaurant is?

The shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village.

This is an ancient poem,

Sorrow that has been passed down for thousands of years.

Qingming rain,

The corners of memories are soaked.

That once familiar smile,

Now we can only meet in dreams.

The once warm embrace,

Now I can only think about it in my heart.

Qingming Festival,

I am walking in the rain,

Looking for the beauty of the past,

But I found that everything was gone.

But even as time goes by,

Even if things have changed,

The feeling of longing,

Never fade away.

Qingming rain,

It wets my heart,

But I will still cherish it,

Those beautiful memories of the past.

(Information Technology Operation and Maintenance Branch Hao Zhongjie)