A piece of broken heart, the rustle of the evening wind; a line of flying geese returning in the sky, sadly thinking about human feelings; a cold night of rain outside the window, waiting for the dawn; the sound of a row of hooves, all hatred and hatred are just dreams; once the fragrance is gone, old friends return every time; it is the end of prosperity again, but when will you return?
A broken heart, nothing to know!
At the beginning of the autumn rain, I went up to the west building alone. Thousands of sails passed by, I could see the end of the world, and I took pictures of the railings. Looking back suddenly, it is hard to remember the suffering, and I missed the boat in the sky. Holding the wine to the wind, raising a glass to invite the moon, suddenly hearing the sound from the sky, carrying laughter and words... It rains in the night and the river wind, I hold my head to wake up from the drunkenness, prosperity is all a dream, my face is empty and miserable, and I shed tears again and again!
well! Poor Wuding Riverside Bones, still a person in the empty boudoir dream!
