A cold current suddenly hits, south of the Yangtze River and north of the Yangtze River. The autumn wind is urging, and the wild geese are flying south.
Even taking a souvenir is in vain, the sky is dark with heavy mist.
Life has been full of partings since ancient times, but love cannot be said in late autumn.
Strange roads, cold and hot weather, no one can tell me how miserable I am.
The children in this world are full of love, but tonight I drink wine and feel sad and heartbroken.
How many new and old sorrows have come to my mind.