Dark clouds are pressing down on the city, threatening to destroy it, and the red sun is shining from the west.
The doors are closed and the six dragons are wandering with cold and urgent light.
As soon as I get to the high city, I feel sad for thousands of miles, and the willows are like Tingzhou.
The clouds in the stream are beginning to rise, the sun is sinking into the pavilion, and the mountain rain is about to come, and the wind is filling the building.
The head of the yellow swan is red and stained with tears, killing the city with your hands is like child's play;
The flying saddle rides on the dust and grinds the dust, and the newspaper comes three times in one night.
The Xiongnu grass is yellow and the horses are fat, smoke and dust are flying in the west of Jinshan Mountain, and the generals of the Han family are marching west.
The general did not take off his golden armor at night, and the troops fought against each other in the middle of the night. The limelight was like a knife cutting through the face.