Spent a whole day thinking and revising repeatedly, and finally finished writing.
\Main text: The river tower shrouded in mist, the moon veiled over the southern shore, the fireworks of the capital faint against the dark night. Pitiful solitary souls dampened by cold frost, paired birds singing as people get drunk.
\Lotus grows in the autumn pond, feelings tied to red beans, forming countless thoughts of longing. Lucky that the embroidered patterns themselves dye the floral brocade, for whom do we carefully twist the thread of longing?
\Not written well, please don't criticize if you don't like it.
\I haven't decided on a tune name for this poem yet; would anyone be willing to gift a tune name with ink?
Essence [Dedicate] The moon fills the flower tower; the wine does not intoxicate, but people are drunk.
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