Confession of the Zhuang
Gently I came, just as I gently leave,
In the shimmering red and green waves, I am the invisible hand.
I wave my sleeve, casting a dark net,
In your dreams, I am the hand that catches dreams.
The rise and fall of the K-line is the poem of trading;
The strategy in the shimmering waves ripples in my heart.
The footprints on the chain silently beckon you;
In the gentle waves of the market, I willingly become a submerged water plant!
The truth or falsehood of the news is not gossip, it is the rainbow that leads you here,
Crushed in the rumors, settling the dream of profit.
Looking for dreams? Prop up a bullish line, exploring towards higher cliffs,
Loaded with a boat of starlight, landing in the dazzling starlight.
But I cannot sing, quietly is the flute of trading;
Gas also keeps silent for me, silence is the result of greed.
Quietly I left, just as I quietly came;
I wave my sleeve, taking away not a single counterfeit coin.
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