Then only the crane to Yangzhou, Hong Sang feathers off smoke. Millennium Chinese table does not return, to forget when Handan Road. An acid short pale blue canopy wind, overcast Guiku battlefield empty. West of the East desire the evening, at the clouds of chaos Shanqing. Who knows what song Lament, I own discretion wine. Drunk drunk a hundred years, no dream Zhejiang right. _Insert_ed between the arms of my wings, the top bone where Dan shed hair do. The following day with the king to heaven, not with the same joys and sorrows of this world. A language that does not have the stars, the sun west to east flow. Soon into the Cangming Liao Li, Tomb numerous calls can not afford.