It's raining and clearing up in Phoenix Mountain.
The water and wind are clear. The sunset is bright.
Thousands of hibiscus bloomed in full bloom.
Where did an egret fly?
If you wish, I admire Pingting.
Suddenly I heard mourning kites being played on the river.
Bitter and sentimental. Send someone to listen.
The smoke gathers and the clouds gather, it is Xiang Ling as promised.
I want to wait until the end of the song to find out,
When people are gone, the peaks are green.
Conception: