Time flies, before you know it, it is too late to regret it.
Sad cream on the temples and wet sleeves, how much is the loss?
The waning moon hook, the night wind is cool, but it is helpless and confused.
Xiao Yue is like a hook, and the poet is full of sorrow.
Looking at the sky is gloomy, looking at the earth is sad for autumn. How many times have you tried sweeping your heart?