Liu Er Shou
In front of the Taoling gate, there are fences, and in the Yafu camp, there are Zhuqi.
There is no old thing in the process of human affairs, and every spring till green.
A thousand weeping willows brush the golden thread, and the sun warms the wind and leaves the eyebrows.
Worry to see flowers flying wild and uncertain, but also with the light Wuling son.
The Original Poetry: