Wind Fall

Yiren frowned, and there were two pairs of breeze sleeves.

It is suspected that the gaze is in a bun, and the hairpin is tied up.

The wind blows up the black silk, like a waterfall to disperse troubles.

The pavilions are green, and nameless flowers are falling.

Silk is like snow, and the beauty of ancient clothes is sorrowful.

When you meet a gentleman, play a song with the gentleman.

It is impossible to ask for it, and the wind is not clear.

The wind is getting in, and I'm getting haggard day by day.

Looking at the sky and clouds, I hope that you will fall into a dream.

30 March 2016

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