The bright moon should laugh at me affectionately, and laugh at me now. Disappointing the heart of spring, walking alone and singing alone.
Lately, I'm afraid that talking about current events will get me all over my neck. The moon is shallow and the lamp is deep, where can I find the clouds in my dreams?
I still don't know who I am writing about my cousin picking mulberry seeds in Que? Lu's? Shen Wan? Or is it me - Tong Jia Qingwu
Nalan Xingde is a name that is imprinted in my heart. People say that he is a handsome young man in troubled times, and he is regarded as the first poet of Manchu Qing Dynasty. However, to me, he is always the clear young man who goes around the bed to pick green plums. Donglang, in the next life, you and I will not be rich flowers in the world.