The dream of returning home is like spring water, lingering around my hometown. In the dream, I think of nectar, and in words, I cherish the lamp. Dreaming about the bright moon, recalling the Mid-Autumn Festival song. There is no one in the boudoir candle, but there is a dream soul in Luo Ping. The sound has been lost recently, and I look at the king's door all day long. Wherever you go in the mountains, you will return to Yiluo late. When I returned to bed, I suddenly dreamed of being in Songqiu Mountain.
Dream A melodious flute sound called me to the window. The autumn evening breeze brought the rich fragrance of Milan flowers. In the distance, a prince who was tired of traveling waved to me, holding a freshly picked leaf flute in his hand. My calm heart is filled with ripples. Prince in my dream, why are you so late? You make me think that our encounter in this life is so far away. The handsome young man who was once is no longer the free and energetic figure who once had frost on his temples. Why are you so tired? What remains unchanged is your gentle smile like the petals of autumn chrysanthemums. Where are you returning from? Are you mining in South Africa or exploring Europe? Why are you so haggard and boasting of being down and lonely? But I can clearly sense the penetration in your ordinary mezzanine. There is some kind of mysterious prince. It was my childhood dream. The hope that will never be extinguished in my heart. Why are my eyes so sad and full of doubts about reality. I don’t know if this long-deserted harbor can carry your ship, which has gone through ups and downs and is riddled with holes. Expectation. Repaired broken ship