Ancient poems that express inner collapse, poems that do not trust the inner pain
Now that I have experienced all the sorrow, I can’t stop talking. I wanted to give it up, but I said it was a cool autumn.
Alone and desolate, I still relieve myself, and control my separation sorrow.
Moaning melancholy, blue falls and yellow springs, who can find them in two places.
The old man on the river opened the door to the declining grass. I only know that I am worried about my descendants, but I don’t realize that my life is getting old. The grass stems on the river are withered, and the dead stems and leaves are scorched. The beauty is exhausted, and there is no cold wave every night.
The wind is blowing the sky and the waves are starting, so you only need to smile and don’t worry.
The sharp mountains by the sea are like swords, and the coming of autumn cuts the heart of sorrow everywhere.
Where does sorrow come from? Leave people's hearts in autumn.
Looking down at the Yangtze River, you can see thousands of miles of sorrow in front of the distant hall.