In the twelfth lunar month in Yecheng, snow has begun to fall, and as far as you can see, it is dense and endless.
I walked up the long road paved with white snow, step by step, and climbed to the Tongque Terrace alone. The strong wind blows and scatters the peonies on the temples. The flowers are yellow, yellow and purple, which is really beautiful.
The moonlight is very pale tonight, I sit quietly on the cold jade steps, except for my brocade shoes, letting the cold wind penetrate the moon-white socks. Looking at the shadows on the snow, with clouds in their buns and makeup, there is a hint of glamor in despair.