Under the shade of drunken flowers and dusty mud, you can return to your hometown and remember each other forever.
The wind is coming, the light is flowing gracefully, who pays attention.
The cold light condenses, and the misty mountains are hidden. I only hope that the red makeup will welcome you ten miles away.
The dream is about to wake up, the moon is about to be new, the round plate of white jade is winding up.
When we first met, tears overflowed. Looking back at dusk, we must not give up.
