[Song]
Li Qingzhao
Drunk shadows, fog, clouds and eternal sadness
The mist is thick and the clouds are thick, and the days are sad. Kapoor is among the birds in the incense burner.
The festival is also a double ninth festival, and the jade pillow gauze kitchen is half cold at night.
Dongli drinks until dusk, and faint chrysanthemum fragrance overflows his sleeves.
Mo Tao doesn't forget me, the curtain rolls west wind, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.