Second, when the sun sets, heartbroken people are at the end of the world. ?
Third, who reads the west wind alone, rustling yellow leaves close the window and think about the past. ?
Fourth, the drooping leaves of foreign trees and the cold light of lanterns are lonely at night. ?
Every winter on the solstice in Handan, there is a lamp holding my knees with me. ?
Six lonely strangers walked through the pale snow in the jagged night mountain. ?
Seven, last night, the west wind withered green trees. Being alone in a tall building, forgetting everything in the world. ?
Eight, surprised to dream a thousand miles, it is already the third night. Stand up and walk around the steps alone. ?
Nine, climbing a mountain is difficult, who feels sorry for the lost people. Meet by chance, full of foreign guests. ?
Ten, looking for, barren, miserable. ?
Eleven, there is a shadow in front of the lamp tonight, and the letter on the pillow is empty. No one and * * * cold spring. ?
Twelve, the days are short, the ends of the earth, intimate friends are scattered, and a pot of turbid wine is full of joy. Say goodbye to Meng Han tonight. ?