Today, I came here again. I don't know where the girl went. Only the peach blossoms are still there, smiling in full bloom in the spring breeze.

The night will be over, I lie in bed listening to the sound of wind and rain, in a daze in my dream, riding an armored horse across the frozen river to the northern battlefield.

The spring tide brought the rain late and urgent, and there was no boat on the wild crossing.

A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day; The mourner's heart is going to break on his way.

Since that parting, I have always missed that beautiful meeting and hugged you in my dream many times.

Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?

When you ask about the untimely return date, late rain will rise in the autumn pool. Why * * * want to cut the candle at the west window, but want to talk about the rain at night?

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