I think floating life is just a dream. Those flowers blooming and falling, and the clouds gathering and dispersing are all regarded as a fate in this life.
If you are not a human being in the next life, there will be no future life if you are a human being.
There is such an illusory dream, I promise myself.
There was no one accompanying me on the way here, and I was alone on the way back.
A line of light smoke on the ridge moves far away, and the traces of water disappear in an instant. Even if the drops of pearls and jade break the beauty's face, the flying geese pass without leaving a trace, competing with the sky, but it is only a dream for a moment.
There is no one to complain about, no one to fall in love with, gain, heartbreak, loss, heartbreak.
Tossing and turning with sorrow, I sing this life.
The green onion has passed, the cardamom is gone, waiting for the New Year.
Only after entering the dust can I know the taste. My peace of mind is just a bowl of loess.