The flowers have fallen and the dream returns
The color of the water looks across the clouds and mist
The dream turns a thousand times and the spirit is like the west
Thousands of waters are covered with grass It’s hard to break up with love
Thousands of snows fly into a thousand dreams
Imagining into a thousand dreams in the floating dust
Ye Yue laments the mourning of flowers
Qing Chi For whom does the wind fall?
Forget the Jianghu under the waxing moon
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