By the river, the only thing I miss is walking alone in the clouds. The Haitang on the other side is in full bloom, and the spring breeze whispers under the petals to mourn the lost time. Last year, when autumn water was flowing, the sadness of parting filled the whole river, and the green dance continued to rise, covering up a transparent loneliness. Facing the vacant room, I had to sing "Flowers from Shui Piao to Water, One Kind of Acacia, Two Leisure Places" by myself. Wonderful feelings breed lingering worries, constantly being cut and confused, then frowning and coming to mind.
The swan goose has passed, the begonia has withered, but it has not returned from people. Looking for no results, more heavy and sad, a cold pillow. With the wind, the green curtain is bright and full of softness and tenderness, but the cold water is wet and dripping all over the floor, filling the heart and freezing cold. How can the past be so fleeting, and the fleeting time, together with the sunset, fall down the hill at dusk? Nowadays, the rivers and mountains are broken, the old country is broken and the world is in turmoil. When you are wandering from place to place, you can only rely on old memories to support your steps. It is bleak but not desperate, it is sentimental but not sad.
Haitang is still there, but my old friend has gone. Cherry blossoms are all over the sky, like snowflakes, sealed in the heart. I didn't miss it, but I just wanted to wait for the rainbow to fade away, and my life became thinner and thinner until the last begonia withered, buried in the earth and returned to other dreams. However, although the home is gone, the national heart is still there. Live like a hero and die like a ghost. Ben has lofty aspirations, why not be afraid of fate?
No, time waits for no one. In his later years, the candle broke and his hair turned yellow. The title he wrote was "I am sick and lying on the window screen." A few lines, only a few words, is a lifetime of sorrow. Things are different, tears flow first, begonia falls to the ground, and the heart is precious.
Back in those days, mandarin ducks were paired, which is easy to understand. No worries, no worries, no clothes like the sky. Now, I'm afraid the grasshopper's boat can't carry a thousand pounds of worries. Looking at Mo Tao in the distance, only the west wind is drifting away, blowing out the spring flowers and the autumn moon, dusting off the old memories, and the Iraqis are already haggard. The tortuous fate, lonely life, and sadness turned into a spring water, which gave birth to the fresh Yi 'an laity in the Southern Song Dynasty and made history fragrant all the way. Because Haitang is still there.