There are no waves in the blue sea, but there are roads in Yaotai. After thinking about it, we both flew away. I love you so much, so tired and without tears. The paths are red and sparse, the suburbs are full of green, and the trees on the high platform are somber. The spring breeze does not let go of the poplar flowers, and they flutter in the faces of passers-by. The orioles are hiding in the green leaves, the swallows are separated by the red curtain, and the incense in the stove is quietly turning on the gossamer. When I woke up from a sad dream, the setting sun shone deep in the courtyard.