Zhuo Wenjun's Poems of Complaining Lang
After a farewell, suspense hung over the two places, saying only that it was March and April, but who knows that it will be five or six years. The lyre has no intention to play, the eight lines have no transmission, the nine-ring chain has never been interrupted, and the Shili Pavilion wants to wear it. I can't understand it, I can't understand it, so I have no choice but to blame Lang. A thousand words can't be finished, and you are bored. Chongyang climbs alone to see the lonely geese, and the full moon in August is not round. In July and a half, burn incense and hold candles to ask heaven. In the summer of June, everyone shook my heart. In May, pomegranate was like fire, but it was drenched with cold rain. April loquat is not yellow, and I want to be confused with the mirror. In a hurry, the peach blossoms followed Shui Piao in March, and the kite string was broken in February. Hey! Lang Lang, I really hope that you are a woman and I am a man in the next life.