Postscript: Ask the heave
The blue sea and the sky are green at night, what is the tide of the tide?
The clear edges and frost mirrors contain clear shadows, and the curling is bright and the simple heart is clean.
There are tears among the flowers and wine, while the orioles sing under the moon and stop the piano.
I sigh in the shade of the sycamore tree, and I feel endlessly at the sight of the wind!
Chapter completed!