"The Book of Songs. Xiaoya. What Deer Mings. Logging"
The trees are tinkling, and the birds are chirping. They come from the deep valley and move to the trees.
Listen to its chirping, and seek the voice of a friend. Look at the other bird, and seek the voice of a friend.
I love you, I don’t ask for friends, God listens to me, I am peaceful in the end.
There is a lot of wood cutting, and the wine will be stinging. Since there is fat and fat, it will speed up the fathers.
I would rather not be in trouble, I don’t care about myself, I am sweeping the sun, and I am giving you eight guis.
Since there is a fat male, it is better for my uncles to hurry up than to come. I am to blame for being humble.
The trees are cut down in Han, the wine is spread, the beans are practiced, and the brothers are not far away.
When the people lose their virtue, they will be stupefied by the dry paste. If there is wine, they will drink me up, but if there is no wine, they will intoxicate me.
Kankan drums for me, squats and dances for me, I have time to drink this.