Fill your cup with green wine and stay a while. Don’t hurry off.
Of spring’s beauty, two parts are sorrow, and one part is rain and wind.
How many times will the flowers bloom and fade?
So sing your heart out, and don’t complain.
When the peonies bloom next year, where will we meet again?
It's so well written, why did it stop?
Please write it down and stop digging holes. . .
Help you clean up the cobwebs. . . .