From a berth in Tonglu to a friend in Yangzhou.
Tang Meng Hao ran
The mountain was dark when it saw it, and the darkness of the mountain flowed eastward, day and night.
The wind on both sides of the strait rustled the branches and leaves, and the moonlight reflected on the river, a boat on a river.
Jiande's scenery is good, but it's not my hometown. I still miss my old friends in Yangzhou.
Recalling those two lines of tears that I couldn't restrain, I looked at the west side of the west bank and sent sadness to Yangzhou.