blameless

sweeper

come among us

make us part of the fallen leaves

the man who cooks the crane

Made a good pot of tea

Invite us to a fireside chat

Very little snow falls on plum blossoms

More dust covers common ground

The person who burns the piano looks at the fire and remains silent

Words we can't say, tears we can't shed

There are traces to follow in life, but no branches to rely on

Ten miles away, we are our own vassals

snowy winter

The guests pass through the small town together

Walk for a while and cross a river. All beings are in a hurry, like dry fish