High Balcony · The Tao is the South Wind

The road is the south wind, silent and soft, and the clouds are soft.

Jin Hu sheng song, don't come to a melancholy.

Now the moon shadow is obliquely gone, thinking of the small building, alone and quiet.

How can you forget, hand in hand, look back inch by inch.

It seems to have been tossed and turned several times, and even if they meet in an instant, the autumn dyes the sandbar.

The upper garden is deep, and the heart flows eastward.

The paper is full of light transmission, seeing the return journey, and endure to stay.

Ren Jiayin, half of China, half of Luan.

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