The high halls are full of elegance and grandeur, while the vast mansions are desolate and cool.
The breeze stirs the boudoir, and the setting sun illuminates the courtyard.
Under the hesitant cloud house, I whistle and sing against the Chinese couplets.
You will never return from your journey, who will I pretend to be?
When the stove is closed and not used, dust grows on the mirror box.
The Qiluo color is abnormal, the gold and green are dark and lifeless.
I forget my royal duties during the delicious food, and I often stop drinking wine.
Looking into the empty space, you can only hear the sound of sparrows.
Worries and thoughts are connected together, and the center is like waking up.