High Balcony · Revisiting Hangzhou
The cold smoke of Yao grass, the old dream of red lotus root, and the reasons for the past on the stone of three lives. Praying deep in my heart, the fragrance of dust dyes my skirt. Jiangye leaves the palace and invades the mountain road. Waiting for Wei Lang, he writes Yinqin again. Afraid of being miserable, they look at each other without saying anything and sit alone with frowning faces.
The single clothes are tied with horses and Yang Mo. I feel grateful for the swallows in Orchid Hall, and treasure my soul. Leaning on the pillow and missing each other, Langgan cares about the shark. There are no sorrows and hardships in the blue city, and the clouds are everywhere, looking for spring in the world. Cover the heavy door, return melancholy, count the morning and evening.
Cao Yiming Nankai University