Last night I happened to look through "Quequatrains of Tang Poems" and read one of them:
The sun sets through the screen window and becomes dusk, and no one in the golden house sees any traces of tears. It's late in spring in the lonely empty garden, and the pear blossoms are all over the ground but the door is closed.
It was just seven or four sentences, but it made time seem to have stopped for a century, and my hands had no strength to turn it down anymore. . . . . . In a trance, the afterglow of the setting sun shines on the red wall of the lonely palace, and a group of crows in the distance gradually fly away with the shadow of the sun. Inside the screen window reflected in the dusk and sunset, the poor woman was crying silently. Spring has gradually left, and the pear blossoms in the yard have fallen all over the ground...
Intention: