A song of mourning cannot be compared to the moonlight of Luzhou.
Two lines of red tears, painted with ink.
It’s scorching hot weather, but it’s sunny in Melbourne.
Golden arms from all directions, a bloody battle in half the city of Yansha.
Wuling was young and unruly and was tortured.
The six gods have no master, and they tightly cover the Huajing City.
The seven-string plucked harp and the sword dance recall Nanshan.
The eight notes are melodious and perform light singing.
Jiuquan smiles and mourns the Qingming rain.
A sonnet remembering the passing of Magpie Bridge.