Drunk for flowers, fighting in spotted clothes. The lotus flowers are still in the scented wind. At the bottom of the clear stream, there is smoke inside.
Thousands of layers of jade are still in color. Woe, woe, woe.
Banana rain. Angrily wash up. Try makeup on the distant mountains and green mountains in the east pavilion. Lazy and freshening up.
When the song starts, troubles arise in the cold, and flowers come and go. Water, water, water.
——The Ten Beautiful Books of Red Disaster
I just want to commemorate those things that I hope to keep.