Pinch your fingers and never spill the wrong needle. Peony brings spring.
It was dusk when the smoke from the kitchen chimney floated across the Yangtze River.
Move the boat to send fishing lights to other villages
Rain falls in the sky, tears sound, pear pillow sleepless.
I stroked the token and relived the frost mark on my hair.
And you hid it deep, but you accidentally left the embroidery needle behind.
The elegant embroidery of plain hand-cranked sleeves is clear.
Sandalwood through the window, you sigh in the west wing screen
Jinse's lonely voice and strings of memories are my past tears.
Begonia scattered all over the floor from the branches.
Messiness is the embarrassment of love.
I write poems to describe your writing on rice paper.
And you have withered, and this life has become a misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River.
I don't know much about poetry. I stumbled across this poem and found it very triggering. I don't know if it will help you. Let me give you a reference.