Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night.
In the morning, she saw her hair cloud changing in the mirror, but she bravely faced the cold of the moonlight with her evening song.
There are not many roads to Pengshan. Oh, Bluebird, listen! -Give me what she said! .
Not known to the public
You are like a candle, thin as it is, but with a little heat and light, it illuminates others and exhausts yourself. This selfless dedication is unforgettable. The language of your lectures is as sweet as a tinkling mountain spring, as cordial as a gurgling stream, and as exciting as a rushing river. ...