Phonetic poems

Liu Yong's Lin Yuling

The cicadas in autumn are so sad and urgent, facing the pavilion, it is in the evening and a sudden rain has just stopped.

All the doors are full of emotion. I miss that place. Lanzhou urged me to send it, holding hands and looking at tears, but I was speechless.

Missing thousands of miles of smoke and waves, the evening is heavy.

Since ancient times, it has been awkward and cold to leave.

Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? Fear is just the edge, facing the sad morning wind and the setting sun of the waning moon. This? Hey?

It should be a good time and a good scene.

Customs are strange, who to talk to.