Falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect flowers.
Spring silkworms will not run out of silk until they die,
The wax torch will turn into ashes and tears will not dry up.< /p>
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisturizing things silently.
Looking up will make you higher, drilling will make you stronger.
The peach gift is silent, and the lower part is a path of its own.
Once a teacher, always a father
It is difficult to say goodbye when we meet,
The east wind is powerless and all the flowers are withered.
Spring silkworms are dead. By the end of the day,
the wax torch turned to ashes and the tears began to dry.
In the morning mirror, but the sad clouds on the temples have changed,
When you sing at night, you should feel the cold moonlight.
There is not much way to get to Pengshan,
The Blue Bird is diligent in visiting