People have joys and sorrows, and the moon waxes and wanes
The hour is not the moon, but the call is a white jade plate. I also suspect that the mirror of Yao Tai is flying in the blue clouds
The soul is as small as a hook, fanning the Han army.
Poor on the third night of September, the dew is like pearls and the moon is like a bow.
(Speechlessly, I went up to the west building alone,) The moon is like a hook
It will be full but it will be lost, it will be full and it will be lost again, how long will it take to be reunited