Author: Wen Yiduo
Fantasy Meeting-Original Works
When the sun goes down, responsibility closes its eyes.
The dim darkness and sour silence in the room,
By a kind of if not,
-A bittersweet evening.
Like a cloud of white clouds, mist and desert,
Holding a crowned crane-
Immersed in the newly shed moonlight,
Is he the elegant man?
We haven't spit out a sound yet;
I accidentally touched his clothes just now,
Many secrets, such as rushing to Sichuan,
From this rub, I rushed back and forth.
I want to ask who he really is.
Check ... where is the month? Where are people?
Since then, fierce darkness, roaring silence,
I tossed and turned in an empty bed and couldn't sleep all night.