The song is called Lilac.


You say you love Lilac best,
Cause Lilac is your own name,
How melancholy the flower is,
How sensitive you are,
As the flowers begin to die away,
As the pictures begin to cease,
How tender and lovely the flower is,
Whereas she couldn’t keep rain and wind off,
Oh, All your life is fulfilled with frustrations,
Ah, you will go to heaven with so many sweet dreams
Well, you will go, you have gone…
And my dear, you leave me alone with care for you.
How beautiful the Lilac flowers spread out in front of your graves,
Will you still feel lonely while you see the flowers all over the mountains and plains?
Listen! There is someone singing the ballad you are favorite.
You won’t care anything flourishing or desolate under the moon no longer,
In my courtyard, Lilac flowers are planted here and there,
Open with lovely purple fresh flowers;
Well, I accompany with them, my favorites,
And protect them with all my life!