Yiziqing

A lonely night with dew, nodding and lighting the candle at the third watch, don't speak, don't laugh, burn incense in the sleeves of water and go around the beam. What is the beauty of a beautiful face and a harp? Sitting and chatting for a long time has turned old. The moon is blowing on the clothes, the green ink is drawn, and the love from the first age to the third child is painted. The jade basket hides a beautiful woman, the blood-clad skirt is filled with strings that grow late at night before the morning song ends. The shadow of the candle is hazy, as if the beauty is coming from a dream. In the blink of an eye, it's just a matter of despair.