The rain wet the eyes,
Rely on the well every year and look forward to returning to the hall.
I am most afraid of not knowing that my tears have split into two lines.
I wander around the world,
I can't find your heaven,
East bottle and west mirror,
Hate can't forget,
It's Qingming Festival again,
Fold the chrysanthemum and give it to you,
Sing your favorite song gently.
I copied the lyrics of this song the most, and its artistic conception and style are really beautiful, which is a poem in itself.