A song of tenderness, a song of sadness for a lifetime, how to pick up a paper boat on Huai' an River.
Under the bridge, the shepherd drinks the lamp. Do you take off the wreath of pansy?
The person I miss most weaves the light of the world with the branches of apple trees, and holds the last reserve of iron and blood tenderness with delicate hands.
Love is deep, the rain is hazy, and Li Heting stands in the river.
Where does Xiao Lang miss people again? The bright moon usurped the cup several times.
That feeling burned into my heart, like the tears of a girl with nowhere to escape in the dark, soaking my eyelids, and I stood here.
Jun, that is, plum rain, rain and fog. I started studying in the morning, the world promised.
Tell a heart to take a ring from a broken rose branch.