I wrote a four-sentence farewell poem.

After the stars and the moon, the lonely geese mourn at night.

Bing Xin's bosom friend, the best voice of unfeeling.

This poem is definitely my own creation.

Because I personally prefer classical poetry.

So this poem is shy and obscure.

The translation (free translation) is attached here

Although the stars are thousands of miles apart, the moon follows them, and the lonely geese can only moan alone at night.

Bing Xin is the best language between confidants, and perhaps ruthlessness is the best music.