A poem in which the loved one dies, but he is not there.

Ten years of life and death are two boundless, disapproving and unforgettable. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.

At night, I suddenly dreamed of going home, and the window of Xiao Xuan was being decorated. Care for each other without words, only tears thousands of lines are expected to break the heart, and the moon and night are short and loose.

Sad ChanJuan wants to break her soul, but it's hard to break her soul. The mirror is not stained with dust, and the wind will make the piano burn. Afraid of hurting the spirit, hurting the spirit, the cloud does not understand the past, people are passers-by.

Zazhang Yaoqin sings to the moon, and Yuzhu reflects the mirror without dust. It's hard to say how sad you are. It's frustrating to sit back and wait. If you can get someone, you will burn your heart and lose your soul. Falling like an old dream, the old man became a passerby.