Lanling King Liu
The willows are straight, and the smoke is green. On the Sui Embankment, I have seen it several times, and the water is floating in the water to see people off. When I come to see my motherland, who knows the tired guest in Beijing? Changting Road, every year, should have more than a thousand feet of flexible strips.
Looking for old traces leisurely, drinking wine while mourning, leaving the table under the light of the lamp. Pear blossom and elm fire promote cold food. I am worried that the wind is fast with an arrow, and the waves are warm with half a pole. I turn around and count the posts after a long journey, looking at people in the north.
Sadness, hatred piled up! Farewell to the lake, the lake is silent, the setting sun is slowly rising and the spring is endless. Reading the moon and pavilion, holding hands, listening to the flute on the exposed bridge. Thinking about the past is like a dream, with tears falling secretly.
This article is divided into three volumes: youth and frivolity, silent years, mutual understanding and separation
But if you don't have the energy to write or can't continue writing the third volume, there may not be one.