The door of Yin Qing is soft and clear. The sound of thousands of feet is around Beiqi, and the wind and rain are sad. Clouds carry trees like light snow and birds like lubricating oil. Thirty thousand, one thousand domains, the reflecting wall of the moon sinks eastward. Occasionally, I will hold a lamp under the mat, and the host will open a floor for me. Magu points to the east and the pavilion goes out to the west. An acre of peace is a bucket, and drunk ink is in Cangzhou. Think of Li Bai, think of Zhong You, and * * * will become a five-element wonder. Yin Qing Pavilion often pays each other.
Why didn't you say anything?