·If you don't see spring mountains, it's rare to meet brocade words. Grinding and carving, who understands me? Exquisite spring offenders, beautiful years, time passes, years are wasted, tossing and turning, not talking to others, pure joy falls, no song can be composed. The pear blossoms are plain, the roses are drunk and sleeping, clear and sparse, the wind is gorgeous and calm.
Intention: