There is a sentence in a poem by Li Qingzhao: What is loneliness, what is loneliness and what is unhappiness.

I'm sorry to tell you that there is no such straightforward statement in the complete works of Li Qingzhao. If it is artistic conception, there is a slow voice.

The voice is very slow:

Look for it, it's cold,

Sad and sad.

When the temperature was warm and cold that day,

This is the most difficult to arouse interest.

Three glasses and two glasses of light wine,

How to fight him? It's late. It's urgent.

Goose is very sad,

We're old acquaintances.

Yellow flowers piled up all over the ground,

Haggard and hurt,

Who can pick it now?

Looking out the window, how can you be alone?

The Indus River is drizzling,

At dusk, dribs and drabs.

This time, what a sad sentence!