Ask for a poem about beauty being perishable and youth being old. Thank you very much

Xin Qiji's Fishing:

It is better to eliminate several storms and hurry back to spring. Cherish the spring often afraid of bloom early, let alone countless red flowers. Living in spring, when things happen, there is no turning back at the end of the world. The only way to complain about the silence in spring is to be diligent, draw cobwebs on the eaves and do everything in Yogyakarta.

Nagato, quasi-quasi-rituals and mistakes. Moth eyebrows used to be enviable. A thousand dollars to buy each other is like buying a gift, but who complains about this situation? Stop dancing, can't you see that Yuhuan Yanfei is full of dust? Leisure is the most bitter, don't lean on the dangerous fence, the sun sets, and the future is bright.

Beauty flashes to old age, and first frost goes to autumn.

There are no sad songs for me. I don't know if the flowers have fallen and people have died.

I also believe that beauty will eventually become soil, and it is unbearable to dream too fast.