After a farewell, the two places were separated from each other. It was only said that it was March and April, but who knew that it was five or six years ago?
The lyre has no heart to play, the eight-line script cannot be passed down, the nine-stringed chain is broken from it,
Looking at the ten-mile long pavilion, I have hundreds of thoughts and thousands of thoughts, and I have no choice but to hate you.
There are thousands of words to say, and I am bored by the ten columns, and I climb up to the sky to see the lonely geese.
In the Mid-Autumn Festival in August, the moon is not round, but in the middle of July, I burn incense and candles and ask the sky,
In the dog days of June, when everyone shakes fans, I feel chilly. In May, pomegranates are like fire but are watered by bursts of cold rain.
In April, before the loquats turn yellow, I want to look in the mirror, my mind is confused and in a hurry,
In March, the peach blossoms float with the water, but in February, the kite strings are short.
Ouch! I wish that in the next life you would be a girl and I would be a boy.