The moon flows silently in the horizontal ditch, and in the sparse shadows of the apricot blossoms, I play the flute until dawn. More than twenty years have been like a dream, although this body is in shock.
This is a fragment of a poem. I can't remember the author or the whole thing.
I was reading Liangjian at the time and saw it during the tragedy at the end.
Anyway, that's it.