Slightly dewed, dipping sleeves, swallows around the spring willows. The lotus boat is alone, the past is no more, who can accompany him?

The landscape is still the same, all in one person's eyes. What year and night, the two phases hold hands, and the golden wisps are old. The cool night is long, the candlelight is slightly warm, but the heart of the person has changed.

The smoke clouds closed the window, smiling at the March rain.

Chapter 70 of "Little Words": I would like to take this poem as a record I am playing in my hand, please wait a moment,

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