Sow Some Seeds and Raise Some Seedlings

There are people here who have a long road in life, and the horses walk quietly; there is wine in the pot that needs to be drunk, and after dreaming, you will dream today and tonight. I am a guest in my dream; I am humble by birth, but never humble; my heart is often sad, but never desolate; my nature is always my own, but never conceited; my goals are illusory, but indestructible. The Dream Chaser. Another night of drunkenness in Chonglou, the purple moon surrounded the clear autumn; I dreamed back to the young man who was brave and traveled to Kyushu with righteousness. The light of the sword kills the shadow of the sword, the sound of the bow is thick with cold light; the sound of the gun appears only when it is heard, and the soul of the spear has died. The breeze blows thousands of miles, and there is no end of blood; the flesh paved the road, and the bones filled the ditch. Zui Chonglou, Zui Zhonglou! I wake up from my dream with three morning calls, and my head is already covered with white frost. Of heavy tenants. There are also rivers that have no roots when blown by wind, and a city that cannot rain when struck by thunder. The ups and downs of the ages are reflected in this sword. The rise and fall of the guest. There are still people with murderous intentions and people in the wind...