The thin night is colder, and the case is full of ink.
The thin note does not contain bitter, eternal hatred and parting feelings.
Poetry wine, heartbroken blue boat, dreams cast words of sorrow.
Recall the parting moment of Meiyuan.
Snow whistles and the soul is clear, and candles and tears are sad.
Four seasons travel, and the flowers and bones between the mountains become monuments.
Tender feelings lie in the bottom of my heart, and frost breaks the mirror.
Acacia, silk wrapped pen, who am I?