Looking at the paper kite map window

Autumn thousands of thin, leaves fall rain Chou, East fragrance swam under the eaves of a veranda, layers of the setting sun, but see Rouge tea.

Looking at the paper kite map window, swaying celadon trapped bleak, but the ally in former days [times], woolly book Tropsch,, gold powder diffuse worry-don't remember?

Several glasses of melancholy, wine in the dark, a few years lisuo, sighed and thought have to worry about! Swan goose is out of mountains, but no pen and ink some vicissitudes, ten feet red dust, a few people who can see through. Sad life, forever there, you know?