& lt jiangchengzi >
Yi Mao remembers the dream of the twelfth day of the first month.
Ten years of life and death are two boundless.
Never think, never forget.
A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about.
Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.
When night came, my dream suddenly came home. Xiao Xuan window, get dressed.
Care for each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears
It is estimated that the annual heartbroken place, moonlit night, short matsuoka.