The fragrant lotus leaves are gone, and the green waves are rising in the west wind. Still haggard with the time, it is unbearable to watch.
The drizzle dreamed of returning to Jizhai far away, and the cold wind blew through the small building. How many tears are there to limit hatred, relying on the lantern.
The clear words remain the same, but the days of the past can never come back.
Conception: