A rain wet all my memories, homesickness is like a garden full of leeks; Long cut; Cut it long. Everything in my hometown flashed in my memory. In my lonely heart, my thoughts are like fish swimming around. Once indulged in the frustration of life, however, the unchanging posture of that mountain and that simple family and hometown faded into a song without words and a poem with Kubinashi rhyme in poetry. My soul has already floated out and returned to my hometown through thousands of waters in Qian Shan. I am enjoying pure rice wine with simple folks.
When the geese flying south can no longer be seen in the air, when the leaves on the buttonwood are yellow and blue, my unchanging homesickness is playing leisurely, just like the flute in Qingyuan, my hometown. Also like Li Houzhu's "hate like grass, you will live farther and farther".