Poetry: Tears fall in my eyes. Why don't we meet when we are unmarried?
Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing.
Tears rolled down her sad and pale face, just like the spring rain on pear flowers.
Tears and wet wipes dream, the temple sings before midnight.
Hold back the tears in your eyes.
Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first.
In detail, it seems that it is not a flower, but a little tear.
Holding hands and staring at each other with tears, I was speechless.
Care for each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears.
Wine becomes sorrow, acacia becomes tears.
Not that lovers don't cry.