Ode to the Breeze

The peach blossoms bloom again and again, and the breeze and bright moon flowers come again.

The sea fog clouds rise and the wind and the moon rises, and the moon shines on the wind and clouds.

The wet wind burst with dewdrops, and the wind rose brightly again.

The tide is turbulent and the water gathers, and the gurgling Heng Gude is here.

Year after year, winter goes again, and the moon returns to the white and back.

Just as time goes forward, there is no return to the end.

It is rare for peach blossoms to come on a high day, and peach blossoms bloom from tree to tree.

The breeze warms the cheeks, intermittently reminiscing memories.

The peach blossoms are high and go with the wind, and the wind is vast and the wind is at your disposal.

But who knew that the wind and clouds had changed, and the flowing water was ruthless and the wind was rising.

The wind is biting, the flowers are scattered, and the heart wind is suddenly cold and the water is cold.

The infinite flowers have been broken, and my heart is very painful, who knows.

The breeze tempted me to sleep, and I was drunk like a dream.

2 March 2016

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