If you keep cutting, the reason is still chaotic. This is separation from sadness.
When you pour clothes, you are confused, you are drunk, and your drunk hat is tilted and tied.
Rain is mild, smoke is rain,
The yard is half full of red roses. Zheng leans against the screen,
The golden geese fly in sparse rows. Xiao Guan's dream is nowhere to be found.
Thousands of spring waves rise from Nanpu. Messy poplar embroidered curtains,
There is a romantic language in the evening window.