Flowers weep, swallows fly low, the sound of clear rain breaks; wanderers return, light smoke piles, worshiping ancestors, no words of sorrow; recalling the old appearance, talking about the past, toasting with a thin glass of wine; the living are drunk, the dead are sleeping, wishing to pay ashes; pay respects Dear sages, I send you my thoughts from far away, and this love will always be with you.
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