The oriole broke the poplar smoke and awakened the east wind in February.
The dewdrops of the past want to disperse, and new mountains are cut in front of people. "
"I follow the path back every day, and I drew a good picture of the western hills in my chest.
Watching the willows by the river bank cross the flat bridge and make a wrong turn.
"Spring Maid" cloud
Who sings in Iraq? Golden stoves are fragrant.
The waiter leaned over to steal sleep, as if nodding at the light. "