Song Liu Yong
The cicadas in autumn are so sad and urgent, facing the pavilion, it is in the evening and a sudden rain has just stopped. Farewell outside Kyoto, but not in the mood to drink, reluctant to leave, the people on board have been urging to start. 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. Where did you wake up tonight? Yang Liuan and Xiaofeng are dying. This is a long time, people who love each other are not together, and I even expect to be satisfied with the good weather and scenery in name only. Customs are strange, who to talk to.