The cicadas are chilling, it's late in the pavilion, and the showers are beginning to stop. There is no trace of drinking in the capital tent, and nostalgia is in Lanzhou. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked.
Thoughts go thousands of miles away, the sky is vast and the mist is heavy at dusk.
Since ancient times, sentiment has hurt parting, and how can it be left out in the Qingqiu Festival! Where did you wake up tonight? The dawn wind and the waning moon on the willow bank. After so many years, it should be a good time and good scenery. Even if there are thousands of customs, who can tell them? ——Tiaoji Liu Yong's "Yulin Ring"
Intention: