I'm sitting here alone, mourning for both of us. How many years is my seventy years old? .
There is a better person than me, and God rejected a son. Pan Yue's mourning is still a waste of language.
Even if you can bury it, you can't tell a passion. What an illusory hope the fetters of the afterlife are.
However, when I open my eyes, I can see the whole night, the lifelong troubles in your brow.
Su Shi's Jiangchengzi
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 expected that heartbroken every year, on the moonlit night, short pine hills.