Sitting, in the mood of autumn
Listen to the horseshoe squawking, splashing up and falling flowers
Also, the anvils of July gone
You, dwell by the water
Fingertips, caressing the desolate rhyme
With the mourning of the southern flying geese, it gradually entered the heart
The thoughts in the slow voice swung away
Millennia, ripples of sorrow
Cold and miserable
Yellow flowers thin west wind
Blowing cold, whose autumn dreams
Pour a glass of light wine, how can the rain fall on the sycamore
Under the uncut west window, standing
who? The shadow of the belt widening
Yiyi's Baqiao Willow, bleak Qin Louyue
Choked up whose whistle
Deep in the moss, a touch of desolate smoke
Buried whose past lives and present lives
The drifting of falling flowers and flowing water, the illusion of sorrow and joy
A sad song, whose old dreams were fooled
Autumn is thick, the west wind left in the Song words
Blowing, the trembling of the last autumn leaf
A river of tobacco, rain long pavilion
I use a patchwork plot
Wet, rushing dreams
Listen, horseshoes, gone in time
The smoke clouds of the next life gradually drifted in the long wind of the years
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