Liu Yong's "Yulinling": Cold cicadas are sad, the pavilion is late, and the shower begins to rest. All the doors are empty, the party is nostalgic, and the blue boat is urging. Holding hands and looking at each other, tears swirled in my eyes until there were no words at last, and a thousand words stuck in my throat and I couldn't say it. Thinking of returning to the south this time, this journey is another road. Thousands of miles away, it is misty, and the night sky is a vast night fog. Since ancient times, feelings of sadness and parting are even more worthy of being left out in the cold. Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? There is a breeze and a waning moon on the bank of Yangliu. After several years, it should be a beautiful (beautiful) scene. There are many kinds of customs, who are you talking to? (I love this song ~ ~ ~)
There is also Li Shutong's Elegy: the grass is green on the side of the ancient road outside Changting, and the wind helps the Liuxiao. The setting sun is beyond the mountain, and the horizon is half broken, leaving a pot of muddy wine. Say goodbye to Meng Han tonight.