Like Zhu Bajie, trapped in a thousand lives of love's cruel woe,
Without mercy, fate doth my sorrow sow,
Without a break, again and again, my heart doth bleed and bow.

Each moment, each breath, each step I tread,
A sea of tears where all my hopes are led.
Love’s tempest strikes, and leaves me cold,
Forsaken, with no warning, my soul grows old.

Zhu Bajie, freed, hath shed his chains of pain,
But I, like shadows, still endure the strain.

Is this my fate, a curse I must embrace?
Love, which promised warmth, hath left no trace,
Wounds upon my heart, yet I must stand,
Endurance my only hope in this forsaken land.

Thus is love, a torment that doth never cease,
A never-ending tale, where sorrow finds no peace.