The red door is deeply hidden, swaying in the spring breeze, ruthlessly calming desires and flying lightly. The broken heart is like snow, and the people's clothes are scattered. The morning is coming and the drizzle is coming, heading towards whose house, the east pavilion and the west pond. If you don't agree, it's like a peach with red stamens, left to wait for the man to return. I still remember the past events in Zhangtai. After saying goodbye, I looked green and green, like the old days. There are so many people walking on Ba'an, competing to break the soft branches. Now I hate crying and dew leaves, town the fragrant street, and throw them away because of who. They also compete for Ke and the jealous man praises the spring grass, following each other step by step.