Travel thousands of miles in autumn, set up brocade, and have a good friend Meet in a strange place. Love singing, poetry is thin. The mountain man couldn't understand what the ape crane said, so he smiled and asked me if Wei Niang was there. I still remember the long beach painting boat, which blooms in soft spring, and we joined hands several times. Everything will remain the same after we leave. But in front of Sister Jing, there are no willows recently. And seagulls. Poor Cecil fisherman. Heartbroken doesn't hate the old people in the south of the Yangtze River, but hates the fallen leaves, which lasts the longest. When you are tired of swimming, it is wine that reduces your worries.
This is a real flute under the moon.
And "Wan Li is a lonely cloud, drifting away gently, so where is the old friend?". I still remember it in my cold window dream, so I have done it. " This was written by Hou Jingkun in the rubble among the ruins.