The orchid boat leaves Wu at night, the willows weep and the apricot blossoms begin. Catkins are flying at the bridgehead, and the fishing village is solitary with green water. Looking back at the place where the broken lamp was slanting, I felt overwhelmed and hesitated.
Over the years, the love has faded and the bamboos have faded. The color is still light, and the leaves are withered. Leaving the song to wash away, there are still beautiful shadows and sparse shadows. When I returned home, it seemed like there was nothing. Only then did I realize that it was true.