At the beginning of the Lantern Festival in China, the starry night flows early. If you lose your melancholy, your heart will be knotted and floating like ink.
Mist pervades the green branches and birds are flying all over the sky. Confused and at a loss, feelings move with the times, and the soul is chaotic tonight.
First, this is not an ancient poem. It was written by modern people. Maybe it's impossible to get into the meaning of rhyming words.
Second, if you want to explain it, it is probably: life is like passing clouds and smoke, like falling into the long river of history.