Yu Linling Liu Yong
The cicadas are chilling, it's late in the pavilion, and the showers are beginning to stop. There is no trace of drinking in the tent of the capital, and the place of nostalgia is the orchid boat. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked. The thought goes away, thousands of miles of smoke waves, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast. Since ancient times, passion has hurt parting, and it is even more embarrassing to neglect the Qingqiu Festival. Where did you wake up tonight? The dawn wind and the waning moon on the willow bank. After so many years, it should be a good time and beautiful scenery. Even if there are thousands of customs, who should I tell them to?
Intention: