The years have blown away the bits of mist wrapped around the spring plum blossoms,
After the greenness fades away, the joints and silk threads are spun,
Grow vigorously.
She chased him for seven years, just for the smile that made him look like a god.
The fox meets the cat, just like the mist meets the forest.
Trapped in a quagmire, hopeless.
However, she enjoyed it as if it were sweet rice.