The world of mortals is prosperous, and the water moon reflects flowers.
Yesterday is gone, the prosperity has stopped, there is water left in the cold mountain, and the grass is sad.
Time is long, and the world is boundless. Look at the scenery and ignore the sadness.
Years have passed, and the hero has passed away.
Sadly, how can the alternation of the four seasons be reversed? However, Qiu Lai's leaves are yellow, and the morning dew dries easily. Will people who see and hear not shed tears?
Honey, I like dead trees in early spring. I'm afraid of hot summer. I'm sad about the fallen leaves in autumn. I'm sad about clothes in the cold. Every time I think about this, I will linger, hurting my spring and dying. Gradually worried and depressed. Wouldn't it be a pity if the world were like this?
Yesterday's yellow flower died young today. Yesterday's account was warm and there was nowhere to live tonight. What a beautiful white-headed woman, but she was giggled by romance. The ruthlessness of the years is enough to exaggerate the beauty and make it instantly white.
Youth is fleeting, like a hundred rivers flowing into the East China Sea. If the sky is pitiful, the long-cherished wish will come true, and the long river of years will suddenly return to the west. This must also be the end of spring, when beauty dies of old age.
Think, worry, hate and cry.
Life is like a dream. Dream with bare hands, wake up and lament life.
Life and death cycle in the mirror. Yesterday, I swam barefoot, but tonight, I dreamed of coming back early.