WIND AND RAIN
I ponder on the poem of The Precious Dagger.
My road has wound through many years.
……Now yellow leaves are shaken with a gale；
Yet piping and fiddling keep the Blue Houses merry.
On the surface， I seem to be glad of new people；
But doomed to leave old friends behind me，
I cry out from my heart for Xinfeng wine
To melt away my thousand woes.