Don't like rain, don't like snow, the temperature drops.
Future surnames are shivering in the cold quilt.
Don't open the sky, listen to the sound of hooves in your ancient city.
I have dreamed of Butterfly Villa Week for thousands of years.
In vain, peaches come and go.
The girl wearing embroidered shoes met a problem.
The dog days passed, the next year.
I saw reeds on the beach.
At the water's edge
Live in vagrancy and mature in the pupil.
Hurt young lovers
On windy days, just sprinkle some sand in your throat.
Take a ladle of Yangtze river water and let the worldly feelings go.
I can't get my voice out of my head.
I can't find a good fairy tale to wear this year.
On the head of that snowflake
Invisible infiltration into your ancient city pool
Moist, but unable to speak.
Thousands of years of Zhuang Zhou collapsed and died!
The postscript is the "Iron Horse Glacier" in the Peach Blossom Dream.