The setting sun in Jinling is bright, and the purple clouds in Linzhou are misty. Silhouette is quiet, who is alone when the autumn wind blows?
Sleeping together hand in hand, pillow on Qixia Mountain. There are many disturbances, drunk and cold, how can Chanjuan be happy on New Year's Eve.
The heart of Xuanwu Lake is surrounded by cold green and the birds are singing in the stream. It's a different kind of sky.
The fragrance fades and the dark chrysanthemum remains disappears from the dream, and the cinnamon osmanthus is even more sad about the railing.
When I came, I still said that I would add a meal, but now the smoke has dispersed, and it is difficult for Feng Luo to return.
The water of Qinhuai River has passed away. When will I see Jinluan?
Conception: