It is the green onion that cannot be washed away in the old years, and it is the memory like flowers in the youth and vigor. Turn it into a gambling book and the fragrance of tea will fade away; roll it up into a thousand mountains outside the Great Wall to watch the setting sun. The blue sky is falling in the yellow spring, how can you be so miserable?
Even if we travel eight thousand miles through the clouds and the moon, our face will eventually be covered with dust and our temples will be like frost. He thought, that person was probably lonely, otherwise why would he enter his dream every night.
Love and hate are fruitless, but farewell is also good.
Conception: