The lights are shining brightly. After people say goodbye, when the night is cool. The first return of the west wind's dashing dream. Whoever misses me will just sleep on his pillow and frown. Jinping embroidery and autumn. The intestines are about to break, and the tears are secretly shed. The moon is still shining to the west of the small window. I hate you, I remember you, and you strive for knowledge.