In the official residence, there is a shasha monk facing the couch,
Life is like poverty in the old mountains.
After waking up from the drunkenness, I smell the residual leakage,
Flowers fall and move to the kitchen to bring late spring.
Ink painting clears sleepy eyes,
Yunxia fairy cloak hangs on the body and chants.
I bow my head on the frost platform and think about my return.
Don't chase people away with your fishing rod.
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