Life is like a dream, a bottle of wine can return the beauty of the river and the moon.
The little fur coat is cold, and the water is falling and the flowers are flowing to the west.
A wordless encounter dulled the soaring flames in memory.
Does he love me? Do I really love him?
The wick will keep burning, even if the lamp is as small as a bean.
They are little people who can't help themselves in troubled times, and their love lies in the blooming of tea and flowers.
I'm waiting for you to break into my eyes,