In the distance there is a harp, and the sound of the empty soul urges the rain.
Juanjuan tell yourself what's on your mind
Moon shadow, longing for fireworks, several red candles
Old dreams in the world of mortals have become empty
The rain wets my eyes, and I lean on the well every year and look forward to returning home.
What I'm most afraid of is that I've already torn apart two lines of tears without realizing it.
I'm wandering around in the world and can't find your paradise
Looking into the east bottle and looking into the west, I wish I could never forget it
It's the Qingming rain again, and the chrysanthemums are folded and sent to you
Sing your favorite song softly
——Xu Song, "On the Qingming Rain"