Author: simple
Underground
Underground, that's the underworld.
There are different surnames living in it
I guess this must be Elysium.
None of the people who went came back.
Close your eyes and go in.
Bypass the funeral
Let some tears and paper ash
Floating upward
People on earth
Cann't stop thinking
I don't believe people are really dead.
I think they have gone to live in another place.
Bless us underground.
Talk about us
Qingming Festival
Qingming Festival
Actually, I don't know.
Rain disturbs people and fog makes them faint.
A meter away, damn it, riding a wall.
The wind on the road moves the white flag and butterfly ash.
White-headed flowers are blooming.
A rising tide lifts all boats, and spring water splashes ink.
Clear, unclear
The witch cursed and sat from the moldy pu.
It's oozing all March.
Cursing the beautiful poetic scene incoherently.
Make peach blossom crazy
Stir the silence of April, stir
Dark and turbid, unclear.
It rains in Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Exquisite silk
Dense twill weave
painful
The restless soul is floating.
Can't see the black sleep.
Be separated by rain
Tearful eyes
Qingming in Lian Po
Feel calm and peaceful.
Turn a blind eye to the root cause
Become a mountain
When the wind comes, dogs will bark without warning.
Let the tears sparkle in forbearance.
Let the witch curse and drown in the silent secular dust.
It will clear up after the rain.
Article 3: Tomb-Sweeping Day
Author: floating in the middle of clouds
Lightweight, indulge in this helpless world
Light a candle, it smells good.
Worship the silence of life
Scintillation chamber
Memory opens, avalanche.
Hierarchical tree ring
Respond to the heartless bell
Clear tears, clear mind.
In Tomb-Sweeping Day, peace of mind.
Chapter four: Tomb-Sweeping Day's sadness.
Author: Liu Bo Effie
Nothing is better than being remembered by everyone.
Greater sacrifice.
Nothing is better than being remembered by the people forever.
More noble libation!
Your inscription is
Inscribed in the hearts of the people
Your great achievements,
Great feat.
Or bits and pieces in the ordinary?
But because of the infiltration of your true feelings,
As bright as a star
That's great.
I use my soul.
A pious touch
Your short but eternal life
Condensed words,
Every touch
My ignorant soul is like an experience.
The baptism of thoroughly remould oneself;
My conscience was abandoned by desire,
Is being punished and tortured.
All white and elegant flowers
Should gather in front of your grave,
This is a continuation of your elegance,
This is the condensation of your stereo.
All compassionate hearts
You should review it,
Even if it is hypocritical.
That's awe,
That's also humbleness.
Facing the fear and retreat of the nobility.
Standing at your grave,
I feel my heart is bleeding!
Lament the boundless sky
Whose depravity
Let your glory
Because of their corruption?
Whose erosion is it?
Let your grace
Die for their sins?