More north-south mountain grave field, Qingming sweeping the numerous natural. Hu Die Fei as white ashes, into the red rhododendron bloody tears. Fox sleep on a thin mound of late children laugh stirrup before. Shall be deemed to have drunk the wine of life, ever drop to the nether world.
The hills south of the north there are many graves, Ching Ming Festival, various generations to come sweep, back and forth an endless stream. The paper money burnt grave gray, the wind and dance like a white butterfly, Weeping tears, as sad as the cuckoo. Sun, foxes sleep in quiet grave; night carefree laughter of small children in the lights. While there are pleasures to be wine; death even though there are descendants of sweep, and that the wine having the same sacrifice their lives to get it? This is a satire, reflecting the negative view of human life.