I wonder who can destroy the boundless empire? It's hard to cover up the old dream in white clothes.
The breeze blows and the tea smoke dissipates.
When I return to my hometown, my lover has gone.
Frost stains the maple forest, the beautiful pot leaves the pavilion, and sings to the moon.
The dreams are similar, but the people are different, and the wait has become empty.
The rain is hitting the banana trees, but the only sound is the jade chime, but the feeling remains the same.
The sound of the string breaks, just watch the flashy brocade dream disappear.