Looking from the sky, I can see the sky, and there is no trace of Wan Liyun.
Sweet-scented osmanthus flies, where the sun shines and the air is crisp in autumn.
Yuyu Qionglou, coming and going from Luan, people are in Liangguo.
Mountains and rivers are picturesque, and smoke trees are vivid.
I clap my hands and sing wildly, till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon, and become a guest.
Dancing and wandering, the wind and dew, I don't know what night it is.
I want to return by wind, so I don't need to ride Peng Yi.
In the Crystal Palace, the flute was blown off with a loud sound.