It rains heavily during Qingming Festival,
Pedestrians on the road want to die.
May I ask where the restaurant is?
The shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village in the distance.
The willow catkins are light and springy,
The green grass accompanies the solitary grave.
Burning incense to worship our ancestors,
The tears stained the towel with deep feeling.
The red candle flickers to reflect the old shadow,
Paper money is flying to send condolences.
Time flies and people and things change,
Only true love never changes.
Qingming Festival is held to remember old friends,
A wisp of sadness spreads in the wind.
May there be no pain in heaven,
It's warm in April.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
