During the Spring Festival, I was lying in bed in a white jacket. The loneliness of White Gate makes my heart extremely sad.
Staring at the red chamber through the drizzle, I only felt cold and boundless, so I had to come back with a bead curtain of drizzle in the dim light.
Sad late spring, long road, where to put my sadness? The lingering thoughts turn into empty dreams, and the plum picking on the top of helium in the dark will meet you vaguely in the dream of who caresses Beijing.
How can I send a pair of jade as a token? I can only hope for the swan that just flew in the sky of Wan Li.
Spring Morning
I don't know when I slept soundly in the spring night, but I heard birds singing everywhere when I woke up. I remember the wind and rain last night, and I don't know how many flowers were blown down.