A pool of clear waves, a pool of green, plum blossom branches are low, and the lingering fragrance lingers in the nose.
The ink stains the turbid pond, the petals splash and ripple, the spring flowers attack and wither.
Sit and read by the window with half a cup of tea.
Relying on the pavilion to admire the moon, half a bottle of wine.
Deep in the palace, there is no time to spare.
A man in plain clothes is half elegant.
Why else?
What more could you ask for!
Even if everything is red, fat, green and thin after the rain, I can only be pure by myself
…