The beauty is far away, the lovesickness is painful, and the many thoughts are difficult to deal with. Meeting and getting drunk is the front edge. The wind and rain disperse, and they drift away. Why be passionate, why be infatuated. If the flowers were sentimental, they would have withered long ago. The affection is strong and the love is strong. How can we know that the red silk threads are a thousand times wrong, and the road is the same but the destination is different. Joy is also sorrow, happiness is also sorrow, walking on the snow to look for plum blossoms before resting, looking back to the end of the sky. It is better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes than to help each other.