Say goodbye to Baidi Caiyun and return to Jiangling one day.
On one side of the boat, Qian Fan passed by, in front of the sick tree, Wan Muchun.
Yellow cranes no longer come, and white clouds no longer fly.
Have you seen the lovely hair in the bright mirror in the high room, although it is still silky black in the morning, it turns into snow at night?
Just like the strong wind in spring, it blows at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees.