There is a slight wandering feeling about returning home. The books are covered with books, the west wind lingers leisurely, and the falling flowers have no trace. The lonely cold fragrance is given by the sky, and every inch is filled with thousands of threads. Blow it away without counting the separation. Why ponder and forget to fly back? No need to ask, this snow is an old trace. Who still remembers the hatred from that year? I have known myself to be haggard all my life. Blow it away again, the string is broken and your heart is cold, and you feel lost and confidant. Recalling the past is the most ecstatic, returning to the moon in the cup. Bring it again, the traces of dreams are faint. The fate of the world is always like water, and tears are rarely needed. How can we spend a lifetime of love? Don't be sentimental, for love will hurt yourself. The most important thing is to be away from human service. Being sentimental is of course merciless. Especially look at Pan Yu. How many pieces are broken and injured? Do not hurt others, just because of how many pieces are scattered! Confidant, confidant, although you are enough! !
Conception: