Listen to the night rain

People are silent

Xiaolou is another night

The wind blows down

Ye Manting

Pipa, bamboo, nameless grass

………………

When it was raining at night the other day, I wrote it in the midst of insomnia, and I didn't know how to write poetry, so I guess I just instinctively wrote about my feelings at that time.

PS: I'll get through it this weekend, and I'll break out behind closed doors, I hope next week's work won't be so hard, and I'll have some strength to update a little more.

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