青釭謠 | The Ballad of Qinggang--Sword that Became Moonlight 此劍，是花園中的女子，未說的祝福，是她送出的月光 #originalsong

詞・曲 Lyrics & Music 一朵青 Yiduoqing 演唱 Performed by 玉姝 Yushu 青釭謠 The Ballad of Qinggang The Sword That Became Moonlight 我是山間一捧鐵，沉睡了千年。 直到她的名字，落在我身上。 從此我不再是鐵， 是月光。 我本山間鐵，冷臥歲華深。 千熔成雪刃，不識故人心。 忽有春風夜，她向月中吟。 花影一身靜，贈我一痕明。 隨君行萬里，寒衣滿雪霜。 未曾問一字，何名喚青釭。 我亦無一語，唯照遠山長。 歸鞘風初定，月色滿征裳。 青是春深處，染就劍上光。 青是眉間色，也是他所望。 霜刃裂寒甲，寸心護花芳。 不是三尺鐵， 是她一脈月光。 花開時我看見，雪落時我遇見。 燈未滅我知曉，人歸處是故鄉。 萬軍皆過客，草木最難忘。 風起花又滿，香似舊時香。 青是春深處，染就劍上光。 青是眉間色，也是他所望。 霜刃裂寒甲，寸心護花芳。 不是三尺鐵， 是她一脈月光。 若問劍何重， 不是三尺鋒。 是她窗畔月， 照盡歸程中。 我是青釭劍，曾是那盞燈。 借他手一照，人間亮一程。 每次出鞘時，都像赴約中。 不為斬風雪，為她照歸程。 她說她是一柄劍。 其實， 她是月光。 借了他的手， 在人間亮了一亮。 每次出鞘，都像赴約。 如今，光還在天上。 #zhaoyun #threekingdom #originalmusic The Ballad of Qinggang The Sword That Became Moonlight I was mountain iron, asleep for a thousand years. Until her name fell upon me. From that moment, I was no longer iron— I became moonlight. I was iron of the mountains, lying cold through the deep of years. Forged a thousand times into a frost-bright blade, yet knowing no one's heart. Then came a night of spring wind. She sang toward the moon, and beneath the shadow of flowers, left upon me a single trace of light. I followed him through ten thousand miles, cloaked in frost and snow. He never asked why I was called Qinggang. I answered only with silence, lighting the distant mountains all the way. When the wind finally grew still, I returned to the sheath, and moonlight rested upon his traveling robes. Qing is spring at its deepest, dyed into the light upon the blade. Qing is the color between her brows, and also what he longed for. The frost-bright blade could split cold armor, yet one faithful heart still guarded the flowers. I was never three feet of iron— only a single thread of her moonlight. When flowers bloom, I see her. When snow falls, I meet her again. While the lamp still burns, I know— wherever one returns, there is home. Ten thousand armies are only passing shadows. Grass, trees, and spring— these are the things that never leave. The wind rises. Flowers bloom again. Their fragrance is still the fragrance of long ago. Qing is spring at its deepest, dyed into the light upon the blade. Qing is the color between her brows, and also what he longed for. The frost-bright blade could split cold armor, yet one faithful heart still guarded the flowers. I was never three feet of iron— only a single thread of her moonlight. If you ask what gives a sword its weight— it is not three feet of steel. It is the moon beyond her window, lighting the whole way home. I am Qinggang, once that very lamp. Borrowing his hand, I lit one small stretch of the world. Each time I leave the sheath, I keep a promise. Not to cut through wind and snow— but to light his way home for her. She said she was a blade. But truly— she was moonlight. Borrowing his hand, she shone for one brief journey through this world. Each time the blade is drawn, the promise is remembered. And even now— the moonlight remains.