Today's sadness needs tears, and yesterday's joy often wanders.
Red beans in the south of the Yangtze River are bitter, and bloom remembers you every year.
When a beauty dies, there will be endless troubles.
There is a better person than me, and God rejected a son. Pan Yue's mourning is still a waste of language.
It's worth remembering that it had come and gone before I knew it.
Not as cold and lonely as the dust on the night platform.
I'm alone, singing at night with my lamp on my back.
Sadly, human nature is different. Once you are grateful, you will die forever.