Hold Your Tongue, Don't Stir Up Trouble
Hold your tongue, don't stir up trouble
As if one has ever seen a painting of the old man's fort, a single stone pavilion stands, and a beautiful woman loves it; I would like to build it myself. My feelings tell me that the journey home is fraught with sorrow
The air connects the Red Sand Street Tributaries with the single Han Chinese on the Great Khan's side; Lu Jia does not wish to play and visit
The dark clouds over the Chu River, the friendship of the monkeys on the ridge, my body is frail, and I have been a servant to thousands of men
As the wet mud dries, one should remember the hardship of those who carve stone
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Hold your tongue, don't stir up trouble
