It seems that this star is not last night, for whom the wind shines in the middle of the night (Huang Jingren)

A few times the flowers sat under the blowpipe, and the silver and red walls entered the distance.

How many times have I sat under the flowers blowing pipes, and although the red wall where the Nayi people were located was close at hand, it was as far away as the silver man in the sky.

It seems that this star is not last night, for whom the wind is shining in the middle of the night.

The stars in front of me are no longer the stars of last night, for whom have I stood in the wind and dew all night?

Lingering thoughts exhaust the cocoon, like a heartbreak peeled banana.

The lingering emotions have been like a cocoon of silk, and the heart has been like a stripped plantain.

In March and May of three or five years, the poor cup of wine never disappeared.

Remembering the night of the full moon when she was fifteen years old, I cannot remove the sorrow in my heart with this glass of wine in my hand.

He, dressed in white, had an independent atrium and looked at the moon for a long time. The cold wind and frost dew of Ren Night wet his clothes and also wet his sad and sad heart. The red wall is as far away as the silver man, and the people in my heart will never see each other again.

Under the moon before the flower, the scene of blowing and dancing is like yesterday, and now it has long been a thing, again and again, and can only stand here alone and play a song. But there is no more brilliance in the eyes, as if they were dead ashes. With this cup of sake in my hand, I can no longer relieve the sorrow in my heart.