Crying to the end of the world, resentment into the youth. Poor fog and blood-stained haze.
I remember that the west wind and autumn dew were cold, and I once greeted Sihua.
The bright moon fills the window with sand, and weary travelers miss home. Spring and Worry in the Forbidden City.
Ran Ran's broken soul cannot be summoned, the green is cold and the red is slanting.