It is impossible to write about the frivolous and unrestrained times of troubled times.
I can't write the sentimental and lingering flowers.
An ordinary life, free from worries.
The whole body is clear, and the black hair falls.
All I see is the faded flowers in the mirror,
Who forgot to fold it down?
Chrysanthemum cake needs to be mixed with white water, so that it will be particularly fragrant.
And I volunteer to be that glass of water...
Intention: