We met at the beginning of the light rain season. Under the peach tree, you stood gracefully. Its flowers are not as good as yours.
It must be my luck to see Qingyang, and I miss you deeply.
I wish to be accompanied by a beautiful person, and look forward to traveling with you every year from now on.
At that time, the peach blossoms were red with rain, shallow and deep, and the spring breeze smiled. Flowers bloom and fall again, another year comes.
The spring in the south of the Yangtze River is good, but the winter is also delicate, as if I am quiet.
I will live up to the spring and live up to you, and the passing time will mark it.