I want wet clothes, apricot blossoms and rain, and I have another village.
Xue: A boat, a bamboo coat, an old man fishing in the cold Jiang Xue.
When the snow comes in late spring, she wears a court tree as a flying flower.
Missing: looking up at the bright moon, sinking again, suddenly thinking of home.
As a stranger who is alone in a foreign land, I miss my relatives twice every festive season.