The familiar melody just outlines a little memory.
The cool breeze is like water, but it is not water; the spring breeze is like Yang, but it is not Yang. There is no recall of what I think about, and how can I repay what I think about? It's just that the breeze blows on the body, intoxicating the heart, and making the mouth crazy. No one knows my gray hair, and no one knows my thoughts. Open this book and comfort your thoughts! Everything written is nonsense!
Intention: There is no point in thinking about someone secretly in your heart, but writing your thoughts out is called yearning.