Wang Anshi
Several thatched cottages are facing the water leisurely, and I am walking among weeping willows in a small and narrow hat.
If the flower was the brightest last year, it was the spring breeze that blew it away. How can it not be bright red?
But tonight's new moon is lying on the top of the tree. I drank a cup of drunk wine at noon until I woke up that night.
What is most related to human feelings, thinking about it, or the two or three calls of orioles hidden deep in that bush.