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The sky is about to hang and the earth is overturned, and ghosts and monsters are looking for a way out. The common people in Li were lying barefoot, weeping for both joy and sorrow. In the starry night, where the dark clouds gather, the king of heaven cannot cover the tiger of earth. The old woman was staggering along the road and asked with a smile where she was in the underworld. There is no pure land in the world, so how can we calmly transcend it? How can a mere pot of turbid wine save the world from suffering? Weiruo tastes joy and anger alone, and looks at the twilight of the world slightly drunk. The lonely smoke rises in the poor autumn of the desert, and the general's hair is gray and his bones are withered. Who would like to visit Yueqiao Garden? Try to find a dimly lit place. Taste the bottom of the porcelain bowl and sip the turbid wine carefully. Those who are honored will be safe and sound, while those who are humiliated will be prosperous. The world falls, the sun and the moon hang. Death is like a lamp going out. If you don't know that you will be buried, how can you blame others for not helping you? Why not find your own way? A little bit of thin wine, old feelings of half a nobleman, the wilderness is deserted, and old friends are sparse in dreams. I knew it was unprecedented in the ancient times, but I expected it would be vulgar. When the wine is gone, scoop up a cup of dirt, enough to bury my character.