Meeting each other is like a shadow passing by.
The white clothes are dusty and the cobwebs are empty.
The foolish dreams of talented men and beautiful women are mottled with flower shadows in the old garden.
That young man is the casual pen and ink of Lao Xuan, careless and breathtaking.
I especially remember the new words you recited under the old pear tree. Every word is both true and imaginary.
Now I turn around alone, all the flowers have fallen.
I feel lonely and have no one to talk to.
Ah, this is my first time posting~~~ I guess it will be very pure, I guess there will be no H, and it will probably be very weak, take your time~~ Damn it! ! ! (Make a fist..