Since the Qingming Dynasty, my ambition has been high, and my luck has declined in the last days.
Looking at the riverside with tears in my eyes during the Qingming Festival, the east wind thousands of miles away is just a dream away.
The setting sun is cold and the grass is heavy on the door, and the green moss spreads over the basin after the rain.
Jade is for the spirit, which is difficult to compare with purity, while snow is for the muscles and bones, and it is easy for the soul to disappear.
The beautiful heart is a little delicate and weak, and the beautiful shadow has traces of the third night of the moon.
Don’t say that the immortal can become an immortal, and accompany me to sing the dusk passionately.