The temples are far away, and the city even has deep snow.
Grass grows on the shore, and the city turns to trees deeper.
Fleas are born in autumn, and the city is foggy.
No wine under the flowers, I want to go back later.
The vase falls with the wine, and the book is opened.
Flowers in the next pot of wine, no friends, drink alone.
Wine is often brought under the flowers, and the bright moon is good for going upstairs.