If time goes back to the past. I will still do it without hesitation.
The breeze is moist and the tea smoke is rising lightly.
Reliving old dreams, old friends have passed away.
The maple forest is dyed with fire, and the qiong pot sings to the moon,
The long song leans against the building.
Year after year, before the flowers and under the moon,
A piece of wine.
The red lotus falls on the water, only the jade chime can be heard,
But the feeling remains.
How do you know that the red thread is a thousand mistakes, the same road leads to a different end?
Walking through the snow in search of plum blossoms before resting, looking back to the end of the sky
It means I'm really lazy...