The butterfly dress gently lifts the fragrant dust, and the dance color is faint with the wind. It crosses the Tang and Song dynasties of you and me for thousands of years, cuts the back of acacia and meets on the water side. Twilight, wandering in the boundless waterfront, crossing a hazy waning moon, falling flowers flowing away, eyes following, through the silent autumn water, who can see through this floating world, tonight, where does the dream soul stay?
A pipa, two tears together, yearning for bitterness, looking forward to staying in the middle, looking forward to flowers, counting the petals at dusk. Fragrant, the most regrettable thing is the core. I want to borrow a crimson pearl flower hoe and build a fragrant tomb for the petals. I asked Yan Fei sadly: How many storms are worrying, and who is most worried about strangers? Looking up, I asked Sad Cloud: What do you mean by overlapping words to show pictures? What do you mean by closing the moon and feeling ashamed of flowers? When did you get the Mid-Autumn Festival full moon and go on a date with Liu Xia?