Retell the mausoleum creatively with about 150 words.

After autumn, cicadas are so sad and in a hurry. Facing the pavilion, it was at night and a sudden rain had just stopped. Outside Kyoto, farewell dinner, but no mood to drink. When I was reluctant to go, the people on board had already urged me to start. Holding hands, looking at each other, my eyes were full of tears, and I couldn't speak until the end, and I couldn't say a thousand words in my throat. Thinking about going back to the south, this journey is another journey. Thousands of miles away, there is a wave of smoke and the dark night sky is endless.