The drizzle wets the flowing light, and the fragrant grass grows with hatred every year. Yansuo Fenglou has endless things and is vast. Luan mirror and mandarin quilt have two broken hearts. The dreams of my soul are melodious, and I sleep on the embroidered bed full of poplar flowers. Fortunately, the door is ajar and the sun is setting. I owe you a few lines of spring tears.
——"Nanxiangzi"