Song Chen Jie
Bambusa bambusa makes Chu Qingkou rain, and Lingxi Road drools gradually.
Sangma people on both sides of the Taiwan Strait wrote a book, and a river gull and heron formed an alliance with me.
The wind rings and the sun shadows, and the clouds and pestles beat the waves and hit the rice.
In a few days, I am already sloppy and unable to go home next year.