At that time, pear blossoms were full of branches, and practice was boundless. I stepped on the ancient road of Bonan, looking for incense and sighing at old streets. I met only for joy, and the water reflected the color of the moon. I was confused for forty years. I stepped on the footsteps of the top scholar, and the old land was new. I did nothing about the Millennium poems of generals and poems of the past. Willow in the wind, boating in the West Lake, looking for a strange land, persistent life, a glass of wine to relieve my worries, long live with me, the year of my native land, the rivers and lakes will always be there, looking back at the countryside, sorrowing people's roads, choosing life and being with the king.