The sky is clear, but my heart is unclear. The moon and stars are few and far between, and magpies are flying south. Walking around the tree three times, there is no branch to lean on. It's as bright as the moon, when can I shake it off? The water in Canglang is clear, so I can wash my tassel; the water in Canglang is turbid, so I can wash my feet. It's a pity that those who maintain the present do not retain the old, but maintain the good times.