Outside the gurgling water and green bamboos, I sit alone on the broken bridge at dusk.
The wine flag is slanted on the hilltop, and we drink bottles of wine together to pay respects to the rivers and lakes.
Outside Jinling, beside the official road, the graceful clear stream reflects the clouds and reeds, and I return to the boat to mourn in the sunset. With the west wind at our back, the old trees are tilted, and the wine flags are leaning on the small building, but the road goes back and forth without remembering the year.
Intention: A glass of wine to pour out all the sorrows of the world, past and present