An angry drink turned into tears.
I miss you in the distance, a war without smoke.
You take the lead? Retrograde is ahead.
The raging plague drags you underground to sleep.
No time to say goodbye, no time to take a look.
You are the root of the Chinese nation, regardless of blood.
Or foreign blood, whether it's white hair.
Still black hair, clear rain.
I will never forget you in heaven.
Laugh at the spring flowers and listen to the mountains and rivers.
Let grief rain, let Qingming pass the grave.
Guiyang County People's Government-[Poetry] Qingming Rain