Chou-yu Cheng
I walked through zd Jiangnan
The face in the season is like a lotus flower.
If the east wind does not come, catkins will not fly in March.
Your heart is like a little lonely city.
Like a bluestone street facing the night.
Without a sound, the spring curtain in March will not show its strength.
Your heart is a small closed window.
My dada horseshoe is a beautiful mistake.
I am not a returnee, I am a passer-by.