Many changes, few joys and sorrows, wasted years and vicissitudes of life.
Don't linger, smile one after another, the years are wasted, the heart is not old, and the aspirations are still strong after the vicissitudes of life.
Ups and downs, life is always hard to find, joys and sorrows, love and hate are all gone.
How many joys and sorrows are in a dream, the clutch is empty, the ups and downs of the world of officialdom are many.
It is difficult to separate, love and hate, joy, anger, sorrow and dreams are endless, gatherings and separations are unpredictable and orderly.
East and West, the world is ups and downs in a dream, joys and sorrows pass by, and many separations and separations chase Feihong.
I lament the pain of separation and union in this life. Who knows that this life likes joys and sorrows, gatherings and separations in the world are uncertain, and there is no reason for the ups and downs of officialdom.
The ups and downs of destiny are always in vain, and the joys and sorrows of the world are filled with tears.
Life and death cannot control love. The gathering and dispersing of sorrow, joy and anger are uncertain, and the ups and downs of the world have their own reasons.
A dream comes together, ups and downs in autumn, many joys and sorrows always cause worry.
With a smile, life and death are at a loss. There are so many ups and downs in the world, so don't take it easy to get together and leave at will.
It is always difficult to fall asleep due to separation and separation, joys and sorrows cannot be written into poetry, and it is impossible to know the ups and downs of life.
Feelings are there, like smoke gathering and dispersing, dreams leave no trace. Happiness and anger go with the circumstances, separation, union and poverty are all at my discretion.
Another year of gatherings and separations has happened. The ups and downs of the official world are pitiful to a few people, and joys and sorrows, love, hate, and poverty are all natural.
The joys and sorrows of the world have been going on for many years, and the ups and downs in the world of officialdom are as easy as taking it easy.
The two are vague and unpredictable. The ups and downs of life are full of pain.
Officials are light-hearted and can do as they please. Who knows the joys and sorrows of the world?
Another autumn is in a hurry, life is short, love and hate are gone with the wind, separation and separation are cloudy and clear, and the water flows.
The heart is full of love, the eyes are filled with tears of joy and sorrow, and the ups and downs of life are always sad.
Why look in the mirror and sigh at the spots on your temples? Poverty and sorrow have been irrelevant since ancient times. Three cups of turbid wine invite the bright moon, and a ray of breeze sends you back.
It’s not easy to meet, so why should I sigh in melancholy. The turbid wine invites the bright moon. How high is the king in the world?
You are at the end of the world and I am heading east. When we meet a close friend while drinking wine, our love is strong. There is no one to ask about poverty and sorrow. Why should everything be in vain when you are drunk?
Why bother asking about the end of the world? There is no need to lament the years when you grow old. If you have wine, you might as well talk to each other.
If you don't need it as a gift, why not take a boat with wine? I am also poor and worried about sleeping drunk.
I have no choice but to look in the mirror and still have my inner thoughts. I asked you if I can share the beauty of the moon.
I am not as rich as you, but I am poor in wine. Why should I care about poverty since ancient times?
The sorrow of poverty has paid for the third night of rain, and the old and sick still need a cup of tea. The wine is gradually declining and the message is sent to the end of the world.
will not return and will be cut at will. There is no doubt that there is a haze in my heart.
The peach blossoms are particularly delicate in March, the cuckoos burst into the sky, and the farmers are puzzled by the seedlings being planted in the fields.
The sun's shadow is slanting, and there is someone in the source who takes credit. Whose child passes by the door, smiling and pointing at the mulberry trees and learning to grow melons.
Whose beautiful girl's mulberry flowers bloom all night, and the sound of cuckoo is cleverly arranged.
In the middle of the cuckoo sound, the old age is gone again, and all the wicker branches are gone. Whose house has two or three swallows, mulberry trees, and hemp trees?
A song about mulberry and hemp fills people's homes with fragrance, while the cuckoo sounds amidst the sounds of fresh tea.
Catkins fly, people have not returned, and swallows cut the spring light on the mulberry trees on the road.
The small courtyard is deep in the scholar's house. Drinking wine and talking about mulberry and hemp in the east fence, the sound of cuckoo and peach blossom reflects the sunset.
The sky clears after the rain, the swallows cut the spring breeze, the sound of cuckoo urges the plowing to start early, and the peach blossoms in ten miles reflect the sun.
The sound of China and Japan has gone to the west, the peach blossoms and flowing water are low, and the small bridge is low. Whose young woman is looking at the mulberry and hemp in confusion.
I have been lingering in the peach blossom garden for a long time, and spring has come again amid the sound of cuckoo. I want to ask where the mulberry trees are and whose house red apricots are blooming against the clouds.
The clear scenery is in my heart, regardless of the sound of mulberry trees and hemp trees, the sound of spring is stirring, and it is easy to work in the peach blossom garden.
Talking about mulberry and hemp, the spring breeze in March comes to my house, sowing seeds are busy in the sound, and the clouds are drunk in the peach blossom garden.
The sound of cuckoo calls back spring, thousands of peach blossoms bloom one after another, my home is in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, and someone comes from the deep mulberry trees.
The peach blossoms and flowing water should know me. Another year is coming with the sound of cuckoo. I want to ask if Sangma is not beside the white clouds.
Whose house does the spring scenery belong to? Busy sowing seeds amidst the sound of mulberry trees on the street, drunken clouds in the peach blossom garden.
Talking about mulberry and hemp, the quiet courtyard is my home. I am busy sowing seeds in the sound, and the spring breeze is full of peach blossoms all night long.
cries blood, the peach blossoms are dyed red with tears, there are so many things happening in the rise and fall of the family and the country, how many people share the same years.
The peach blossoms have fallen away, and the willow silk is slanting. The sun's shadow is in the sound, and I want to ask whose home Sangma is ten miles away.
I've gone to the ends of the earth to look for youth, but unfortunately tonight and tomorrow will not be the same.
The sky reflects the blue sky, the autumn atmosphere is singing, and the wind blows on the rice waves while admiring the moonlight in front of the window.
The wild geese are blowing and falling in the sky. I can't sleep at night without a solitary lamp. A pipa song is mixed with wine and the shadow of the beautiful girl is reflected.
Walking in the water, listening to the sounds of birds, the wind carrying the fragrance of flowers makes me sleepless until dawn.
I am fishing leisurely, leaning against the building alone, with the sound of geese calling and the moon coming in the shadows.
The shadow of the sail is far away, the people are quiet and the sound of the oars is long, the wind is clear and the autumn scenery is beautiful, and I lean on the railing without sleep and remember my hometown.
Why should the fragrance be so far away? Only when I don’t sleep can I realize that the night is deep, and it’s hard to hold back the tears in the shadows amid the sound of drizzle.
The sound of autumn rains all night, and I faintly cross the small bridge. The wind and dew at the west window make me sleepless.
The lights are red, the rivers and lakes are green, the singing and dancing are peaceful, the wind is blowing, and the clouds are lingering until the middle of the night.
Listen to the autumn rain, the wind blows and the remaining red leaves fall on the steps, the chirping sound is intermittent, and the thin shadow lingers in front of the lamp.
The autumn scenery was just right all the way, the moon was full and the moon was full without sleep at midnight, the sound of crickets was intermittently urging people to wake up, and the whirling shadows of osmanthus made the guests pity.
Singing along the way, the green water has clear shadows, and I have no sleep at night and open the window to express my love.
The flowers and shadows are chanting, and the willows are green by the window. I can't sleep without thinking about lovesickness.
White catkins are floating all over the sky, and I listen to jade flute in front of the window. The cold sound and thin shadows accompany the flickering lights all night long.
The new willows are crowing, the spring is deep and the old painted beams are gone, I lean on the railing without sleep and think about the past, the wind blows and the flowers fall all over the courtyard.
The shadow of the setting sun is far away, the singing birds are long and the willow silk is long, the golden breeze is refreshing, and I lean on the railing to recall my hometown.
The moon is like a hook, the wind rolls the bead curtain up the small building, the sound of crickets scares the guests from their dreams, and the shadow of osmanthus in front of the court stirs homesickness.
The willow silk breeze blows while fishing, and I lean on the railing to look at the distant mountains without sleep. A fishing song sails are reflected in the water and clouds.
The wild geese carry the sound of autumn flowers and shadows to the high buildings, and the sleepless night conquers thousands of miles of sorrow.
The shadow of the sail is far away, among the water and clouds, the autumn wind is sighing, which year is it?
There is endless flow of sand, no one can pity me, I am a lonely boat with a leaf in the cold river and thousands of miles of sky.
The sunset reflects in the water, and the flying waterfall leaves with the waves, fishing alone on the Hanjiang River for eternal love.
Where can I park my solitary boat? I can fish alone in the cold river for thousands of miles in autumn. The sunset in the western mountains makes me sad.
The moon shines on the cold river, and the water is leisurely. How long will it take for the lone boat to go far away? The wind blows and sheds tears of lovesickness, but I don’t see the sweetheart falling into sleep.
Flowing day and night, counting the spring and autumn at the end of the world, one leaf goes with the wind, fishing alone in the cold river with the moon full of the building.
Counting fallen leaves in the morning and evening, watching the flowing waves in spring, summer, autumn and winter, a lonely boat in the distance, drinking alone on the cold river in the middle of the night.
Traveling thousands of miles alone in a boat, how sad it is to fish alone in the cold river, and fly down the green mountains without stopping.
I fish alone in the cold river and swim leisurely in the water, while the west wind scolds me and lovesickness chases the blue current.
The tragic song has long flow of tears, and the world of mortals has gone away, and the remaining sails are gone, and I am alone in the wind, rain and cold river.
There are several springs in the mortal world, and the passing water leaves no trace. The lonely boat is a leaf in the cold river and the moon is half round.
A lonely boat on the water, how sad it is to fish alone in the cold river, and everything is over in the world of mortals.
The night is deep, thousands of miles away, the stars are falling, the bright moon is shining like gold.
The blue water is long and the sky is like a flowing moon. I have been counting the autumns for several years. I am sad for thousands of miles away from the cold river in a lonely boat.
With the bright moon, I travel straight down to the sky for nine days, and my lonely boat leaves with the wind, fishing alone on the cold river for thousands of miles.
Where is the lone boat on the cold river to watch the sunset, thousands of miles long stream of flowers behind the garden.
A lone boat comes chasing the waves, the cold moon shines on the tower, and the stars fly down into the dreamland.
The clear spring stone flows upstream, and I have complained about it for several spring and autumn years. The lonely boat is far away on the cold river, thousands of miles away, and I am sad.
Whether it is west or east, the wind is thousands of miles away, and the clear water flows for a long time.
The moon shines on the Hanjiang River and the night is bright. The leaves of the lonely boat drift away, and the border gates refuse to stop at the end of the world.
It's hard to keep me, and the smoke disappears without remembering the spring. The last thing is that the moon rises over the sand in Huanxi, and the clear light still cares for the flower people.
The snow and moon are always about love, listening to the sound of rain in Huanxi River in Xizi, spring is gone and autumn is coming, and the colors are as you wish.
Where can I find the fragrance when spring comes? The green swallows return to the clear water and mountains. The flowers have fallen and I don’t know. After the people have gone, the willow silk will still hang down in Huanxi.
The scattered willow trees are also new, the sand in Huanxi River is colorless, and the clear water and green mountains are even more intoxicating.
The willows are new, the light of the water and the shadows of the mountains intoxicate tourists, the swallows dance among the thousands of flowers, and Huannu laughs and talks frequently by the stream.
-- Zheng Huixian
