On March 7, it was raining on Shahu Road, and the servant holding the rain gear had left earlier.
Everyone who was traveling with him felt very embarrassed. After a while, the sky cleared up and he composed this poem.
Don't pay attention to the sound of rain beating through the leaves in the forest. You might as well walk leisurely while singing and whistling.
Bamboo sticks and straw sandals are more agile than riding horses, so what's so scary?
Wearing a raincoat and letting the wind blow and rain, we still live our lives.
The spring breeze is slightly cool, waking up the drunkenness. The chill is beginning to set in, but the setting sun on the mountain top is welcoming at the right moment.
Look back at the place where you encountered wind and rain. Go back. It doesn't matter whether it's wind or rain or whether it's sunny.
There are three thousand floating clouds, I just hope that you can achieve your wish.
Vb: @xieyinyin