There is no way to go because of the winding water flow in the mountains, and a mountain village suddenly appears in the willow-green flower bay.
The day of playing flute and drums is approaching, and the villagers are still dressed simply.
From now on, if you ride leisurely on the moon, you will knock on the door all night with your cane.
The sunrise is red as fire, and the riverside is green as blue.
When * * * cuts candles at the west window, it talks to the rain at dusk.