The ten-mile long pavilion has all the flowers gone. The island has passed away. The twilight dream is empty. Only the old dream is there. Don’t lose it. Don’t forget. Don’t leave. The empty city. Only the old dream is in the mist. The time of love is indifferent, the smoke is drunk, and the tears are not lost. There was a beautiful woman who was in tears and leaning against the window to watch the swallows fly. The maple leaves reflected on the mountain are red, the night dew is frosty, and the leaves are about to fall outside the Hanshan Temple. The fishing fires are falling outside the Hanshan Temple. The dragons are flying, the phoenixes are dancing, the swallows are flying in the sky, and the falling flowers are leaning against the window. I am leaning against the empty bottle facing the moon. I am drunk and dreaming. I am startled by tears. The empty bottle is facing the moon flowers. I am alone and thin. I am tearful. I am looking forward to your return. I am drinking and writing poems. The soul is alive but not reciting poems. The flower falls and the person is gone. The two are in the sky. I wish to be a winged bird on the ground. I wish to be together. The branches are in the blue building. The moon is lingering in the window. The breeze is lingering. The drunken flowers are faintly fragrant. The fingers are waving. The passing years are spent laughing and talking. A touch of rouge is revealed. The naked face is full of desire and staying together. It's hard to look at each other, separated by two places, heartbroken, looking at each other in a ten-mile long pavilion, the lights are dim, people are wandering, spring is warm, flowers are blooming, autumn leaves are falling, the fragrance remains after the prosperity, the beauty is parting, the heart is melancholy, the wine is getting thicker, the heart is also drunk, the colorful feather sleeves are flying, looking through the autumn water, thinking of her.