Amidst the dark rustling Village. Rose cold. Sent the radial spring. Head off the dust of Beijing, Xiao Luan hear what day. Siskin Gu edge miles away, means the sky, Pik deep soul like Gone with the Wind. Smoked cigarettes do worry furnace cone sales. Glass of wine alone, who with strokes. Full of emotions, Ren Yin Jian, Fu pen hard to describe. Melancholy mountain breeze, blowing the old dream of the autumn night. Green wave shadow lake Waterfront wide until the end, by weeping willows, on half-bridge.