Zhu Xiaozang (1857~1931) was one of the four great poets in the late Qing Dynasty. A Zu Mou, named Guwei and Huosheng, also named Cangyin and Qiangcun, was born in Gui'an (now Wuxing County), Zhejiang Province. In the eighth year of Guangxu's reign, he was promoted to Jinshi. In the 30th year of Guangxu's reign, he came to study politics in Guangdong, but he resigned due to disagreements with the governor. He died in Shanghai in the 20th year of the Republic of China. Zhu Xiaozang began to be known as a poet. When he was a Beijing official, he made friends with Wang Pengyun, gave up poetry and specialized in Ci. His poems "integrate the strengths of various schools of thought, and his voice and emotion become more simple and rich, clear, powerful and meaningful. He is the leader among all the poets in the world. His poems are of high quality." He is the author of two volumes of the poetry collection "Qiangcun Yuye". His disciples died after his death. Long Yusheng is a supplementary volume, included in "Qiangcun's Suicide Notes".
Wu Ye Ciao·Tongzhan Garden, Dengji Altar, Thousand Buddha Pavilion
Zhu Xiaozang [Qing Dynasty]
Spring clouds stay deep in the virtual altar, the chime is first broken, and the steps around the pines and yin pairs lead to Zhu Lan.
The wind keeps blowing, the yellow line is mulberry stems, and the setting sun silently sets down Cangshan Mountain.
Qing Ping Le·Ye Fa Hong Kong
The side lights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is moving in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape?
The rivers and lakes are about to fade away, and the wind is blowing in the helm. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
Huanxisha·The only bird rushing to the waves
The only bird rushing to the waves means leisure, the rose clouds are like ocher and the water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian.
The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The place where I travel alone is not deserted or cold.
Nan Xiangzi · I can’t sleep on a sick pillow
I can’t sleep on a sick pillow, and I have tried my best to dream of Xiaoan. At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring.
The bottom of the song is with the respect, and the flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
Huanxisha·Cuifu Red Bandit Clip
Cuifu Red Bandit Clip welcomes the shore, and the wind is blocked for a while. Shui Chuang Guanzhu burst into tears.
If there is a meeting of Zen Yue Xindan, the rise of wine and sadness will always be unknown. To whom does Changchuan Guyue show his light?
[ Changting Complaints and Slowness Two Songs]
All gone, the emotions of crossing the river are windy and dew every year, the west gate of the country. There are cool clouds over the cyan sea, flying cyans last night, and the stone pavilion is hot. The cicadas and tall willows are everywhere, and the Pingping Island tree is broken. Don't sing and cherish the red clothes, it's like rain. ○Twilight. I don’t hate being separated from my classmates, I hate seeing my old family friends again. Qingdun's dream is broken, winning in vain, leaving without evidence. I have searched all over the fence and found no place for the mandarin ducks to sleep. The green covered pavilions are left to enjoy the setting sun.
Don't ask anymore, I am worried about the gulls and herons, the cold moon and the dusky sand, where will my dreams go? The old garden Cangbo, for whom the green comes, the old travel road. The stone scales are blown up by the wind, and they are whimpering in the autumn language. The running water is uneven, and there is no trace of dust. ○Previous degree. One day the wind was howling, and my steps came and went in vain day and night. New Pu Xiliu, ask who will believe it, good spring has no owner. Hate the two swallows, don't talk about the setting sun, and the smoke in the blue window. Only the mirror turns red, blocking Lingbo's new steps.
[Twenty-Seven Songs of Partridge Sky]
How heavy the cloud screen is in the dream, and the orchid period is still warm and full of old joy. The lights are floating, the embroidery is fanning, and the flowers are like sleeping, and the wine is not strong when I sing and drink the golden boat. ○Spring is silent, hate is in a hurry, and the cold letter from Fengcheng returns to Hong. The desire to keep silent is supported by the moon in the sky, knowing that the rain on high buildings is the wind.
Yeshui Inclined Bridge For another moment, I complained about my old knowledge with a sad heart. The desolate and charming Nanguo is passing by with a whip, and the pure and miserable Xifeng is peeking from the side. ○New snow tears, old string poems, and butterflies are coming from the gate. The red corn and the white chrysanthemum are all fine, but they are thinking before the wind.
Jade protects the fragrance around the unreal memories, and the lovesickness and wine stir up the hatred of spring. In the past, there were lotus leaves in the stream, and in the night after, there were clouds in the dream of pear blossoms. ○If people have faith, there will be no traces of things. Don’t be ecstasy if you chant lightly and get drunk. The round toads have not yet gone up and the setting sun has set. They have counted all the new toads and closed the door.
The wind leaves traces at the end of the sand, and the evening is cool. After the rain, the sound of mountain whispers makes me wake up in bed. Luo Wen's water is more stable than the empty dowry, and Pin Yu's sail is like a painting fan. ○In earthly affairs, in Shuiyun Township, the barbarians are good at planning and working hard to join the merchants. When I dreamed of returning to the moon and arriving at Wu Peng Yue, I recognized Shuangxi and sailed across it at night.
In the sentence, the spring posture is green and green, and the sky is newly blooming with traces of fat. There are trees and people standing in the distance, and orioles are flying around in the wind. ○Moving to the evening window, occupying the empty island, the flute is playing in the water window and the breeze is blowing. The eyes are full of endless emotions, and I want to pick apple blossoms and smile.
I shed tears in Tokyo to talk about my dreams, and lose my life in ruins of paper. With fragrant lips, I beg for wine to welcome the New Year, but when I become jealous, I hate the flowers given to me for the New Year. ○No words, but a long moan, a short crotch and an elegant cry. Don't think it's too much to be a good friend, even if you live with a good friend, you're also the boss.
On the right day, the alum head hates the short wall, but this year there is no gurgling behind the house. Green pine trees may not hinder a wise path, but gray hair certainly does. ○ Chi Lu'er, control the yellow shoulder, compete with Qiu Fan in hundreds of ways.Exposed the stick to the east and returned to the ear, and the servants were free to leave the camp.
The chanting is flowing on the temples and the tears are drying, and it is difficult to return to the sea. However, from the Jiu Mo cruise route, I recall the Shuangxi short pole boat. ○Outside the fields and rivers, beside the wild incense, I smile while drinking. The crows have all flown away and the firewood gate is closed, but the mountains are still full of people watching the setting sun.
The east wind is cloudy for ten days, and the sorrow of spring blows sparse hairpins on the snow. In the desolate day of the human world, the blue waves ripple in the hearts of the dead. ○I get tired of reading and pouring wine. I am lonely and have no place to visit. A night in Jiangcheng Huangmeiyu is not as deep as Xu Zhou's tears.
Don't be afraid of Tusu wine entering your lips, and the curtain door becomes strangely warm despite the snow remaining. The light from the sky lingers all night, and the flowers in the sea illuminate Mochun. ○The chanting temples are short, the colorful symbols are new, and the five lakes are still full of people who have not yet returned. It will be easier next year to help the plows and repay Tiao Mountain with a frame of clouds.
Everything is new in the Gangfeng eyes, what use is it to compete with floating clouds? Occasionally, I took action from the pheasant, but I refused to lower my head to pick up the benefits. ○ Worrying about the country's disease, groaning in agony, the whole family is pounding medicine to stir up autumn dust. Wine boats, tea sets, rivers, good weather, begging for cormorants in spring.
The Guan River in the city is clear with snow, and I wander alone to avoid the bright eyes. Spring sorrow is like water with gulls rising, and the mountains are like bridges and geese. ○The years have changed, and the fragrance of rain has disappeared. Who can write poems and send them to the thatched cottage? The temple bells ring when you wake up from the drunkenness, just like listening to river boats in the middle of the night.
Like the clear water, the hair shines on the temples, respecting the predecessors and the end of the world. The wine intestines are as thick as a halberd, and the writing pen is frosty and miserable. ○ Throw a pillow and sit down, roll up the old sigh, don’t be afraid of the crow roosting behind the evil crow. The red candles change to the human world, and the green mountains return to the dream home.
Hundreds of teams are traveling in the meandering spring, and thousands of forest steps are covered with light and deep clouds. The cloudy and sunny days are like wine, and the sadness and joy are flowers in the new year. ○The dream of flowers is short, the wine is sad, and the sweetness is endless. The Taoist does not smile at the east wind, but sweeps the floor and burns incense to write a book.
The little fairy is not beautiful, and the golden layer of the platform misses Chanjuan. I have paid Qianqi a favor several times, but I have endured loneliness for more than ten years. ○The water from Qiu arrows and the smoke from magpie furnace will scatter money without any reason. It's already the time to worry about the curtains, and I'm trying to send Xinhan outside.
The golden dou is filled with smoke towards the cool evening, and the frost is flying when it hits the curtain. The fragrant phoenixes formed a team one after another, and it was too crazy to shake the game. ○3 Sighing, thinking a hundred times, and severing the ileum are common. In front of the mirror, I learned how to throw my hair into a bun, but I was still jealous of the crazy flowers.
Tiny dust waves avoid Luo Shen, jade-faced fan and gentleness. The morning glory whispers pity in the palace at night, and rides at the palace gate to worship the Lord. ○The rain turns over, the clouds merge and leave, and the snow only sheds its old cry over the years. Qing Kuang would rather have no regrets when he goes away, but he embroiders a long banner to pay homage to the World Honored One.
His singing voice is always superb, and he has endured many lives without losing his temper. Zhirao is now using his hair as Xiangze, but he is not willing to use his body as a pillow. ○The toad bites the lock, the magpie crosses the beam, the owner is interested in Wang Chang. I am lucky to have a dream of a brothel, sitting next to a beautiful lady.
I heard that Chanyuan traveled to Beizhu, and the east wind was as cold as autumn in the garden. There are no more decorations on the palace body, and it is forbidden to make a bow in rows. ○Happiness is easy to disperse, dreams are hard to stay, and the female bed Luan tree is worried about others. The red silkworm is as haggard as the cocoon, and it has not rested since it has reeled out all the spring silk.
Looking in the mirror hazy and lazy to take off my hair, I laugh out of boredom in vain. Looking at the blue bird, the news is happy, but the black dragon lying on the ground is jealous of the matchmaker. ○The word "Sheng" is wrong, Jin Shuo returns, and he is willing to devote his efforts to the bed. I don’t know if the ninth day of the ninth lunar month is still the seventh day of the lunar month, and I fold a red note to express my hatred.
may not be young yet, just like the bees and butterflies. The side businessman Xiaoling renovated the water, and the old branches were crazily fragrant. ○In the wind and rain, some people are singing "Bi Hong'er" in a low voice. Only then did I realize that the golden bells were ringing all over the trees, which made people feel sad for the fallen leaves in autumn.
I have always loved you through all the calamities, and I will wear incense sticks with you. The ungrayed wax torches are spelled into tears, and the strings of the hanging strings are broken and I can't bear to stop singing. ○ Stop hesitating, it’s been wasted, and the whip is too much to bear. There will be encounters in the world, but what is the hope of youth?
Dare to learn from the ancient paintings of Pingxiang, but learn from the example of Shenggou Yuanlu. The scalp is still there to look at the mirror, and the heart is exhausted but the cup is covered. ○The ants are full, the horses and cows are shouting, and the names and official positions are in the general area. The monument is almost like a levy of Western characters, but Mr. Wang’s pen has disappeared.
Loyalty and filial piety have never been fulfilled. In recent years, Jiang has been extraordinarily warm. The rhinoceros horns in the eyes are wrong, and the cow clothes behind are full of hatred. ○Things are revealed, and the body of water is clouded, and the lyricist puts all his efforts in vain. It's sad that in this human world, there is no unfinished cause in other lives.
The water of the sob Dan Leng is not rippled, and the little red snails float around. Sitting in the wind, the autumn fragrance is close, and the coolness of the dew is too much. ○ From the filthy man, why will the sun die? There is no need to worry about the drunken captain in Ba Ling. The visitor in front of Baitouye Shiting Pavilion disappeared all his life, Ming Ke.
The cicada's wings are single and silky, but the silk is not light. The pink is clear and the vermilion is thin but becomes full and full. Call for the shameless hanging luan fan, don't pretend to throw the little wild goose kite. ○The clouds protect you, the moon is about to greet you, and you are the most pitiful among the people. Huahua is relatively used to it, so she doesn't want to respect her previous opinions.
Zhu Xiaozang (1857~1931) was one of the four great poets in the late Qing Dynasty. A Zu Mou, named Guwei and Huosheng, also named Cangyin and Qiangcun, was born in Gui'an (now Wuxing County), Zhejiang Province. In the eighth year of Guangxu's reign, he was promoted to Jinshi. In the 30th year of Guangxu's reign, he came to study politics in Guangdong, but he resigned due to disagreements with the governor. He died in Shanghai in the 20th year of the Republic of China. Zhu Xiaozang began to be known as a poet. When he was a Beijing official, he made friends with Wang Pengyun, gave up poetry and specialized in Ci. His poems "integrate the strengths of various schools of thought, and his voice and emotion become more simple and rich, clear, powerful and meaningful. He is the leader among all the poets in the world. His poems are of high quality." He is the author of two volumes of the poetry collection "Qiangcun Yuye". His disciples died after his death. Long Yusheng is a supplementary volume, included in "Qiangcun's Suicide Notes".
Wu Ye Ciao·Tongzhan Garden, Dengji Altar, Thousand Buddha Pavilion
Zhu Xiaozang [Qing Dynasty]
Spring clouds stay deep in the virtual altar, the chime is first broken, and the steps around the pines and yin pairs lead to Zhu Lan.
The wind keeps blowing, the yellow line is mulberry stems, and the setting sun silently sets down Cangshan Mountain.
Qing Ping Le·Ye Fa Hong Kong
The side lights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is moving in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape?
The rivers and lakes are about to fade away, and the wind is blowing in the helm. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
Huanxisha·The only bird rushing to the waves
The only bird rushing to the waves means leisure, the rose clouds are like ocher and the water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian.
The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The place where I travel alone is not deserted or cold.
Nan Xiangzi · I can’t sleep on a sick pillow
I can’t sleep on a sick pillow, and I have tried my best to dream of Xiaoan. At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring.
The bottom of the song is with the respect, and the flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
Huanxisha·Cuifu Red Bandit Clip
Cuifu Red Bandit Clip welcomes the shore, and the wind is blocked for a while. Shui Chuang Guanzhu burst into tears.
If there is a meeting of Zen Yue Xindan, the rise of wine and sadness will always be unknown. To whom does Changchuan Guyue show his light?
[ Changting Complaints and Slowness Two Songs]
All gone, the emotions of crossing the river are windy and dew every year, the west gate of the country. There are cool clouds over the cyan sea, flying cyans last night, and the stone pavilion is hot. The cicadas and tall willows are everywhere, and the Pingping Island tree is broken. Don't sing and cherish the red clothes, it's like rain. ○Twilight. I don’t hate being separated from my classmates, I hate seeing my old family friends again. Qingdun's dream is broken, winning in vain, leaving without evidence. I have searched all over the fence and found no place for the mandarin ducks to sleep. The green covered pavilions are left to enjoy the setting sun.
Don't ask anymore, I am worried about the gulls and herons, the cold moon and the dusky sand, where will my dreams go? The old garden Cangbo, for whom the green comes, the old travel road. The stone scales are blown up by the wind, and they are whimpering in the autumn language. The running water is uneven, and there is no trace of dust. ○Previous degree. One day the wind was howling, and my steps came and went in vain day and night. New Pu Xiliu, ask who will believe it, good spring has no owner. Hate the two swallows, don't talk about the setting sun, and the smoke in the blue window. Only the mirror turns red, blocking Lingbo's new steps.
[Twenty-Seven Songs of Partridge Sky]
How heavy the cloud screen is in the dream, and the orchid period is still warm and full of old joy. The lights are floating, the embroidery is fanning, and the flowers are like sleeping, and the wine is not strong when I sing and drink the golden boat. ○Spring is silent, hate is in a hurry, and the cold letter from Fengcheng returns to Hong. The desire to keep silent is supported by the moon in the sky, knowing that the rain on high buildings is the wind.
Yeshui Inclined Bridge For another moment, I complained about my old knowledge with a sad heart. The desolate and charming Nanguo is passing by with a whip, and the pure and miserable Xifeng is peeking from the side. ○New snow tears, old string poems, and butterflies are coming from the gate. The red corn and the white chrysanthemum are all fine, but they are thinking before the wind.
Jade protects the fragrance around the unreal memories, and the lovesickness and wine stir up the hatred of spring. In the past, there were lotus leaves in the stream, and in the night after, there were clouds in the dream of pear blossoms. ○If people have faith, there will be no traces of things. Don’t be ecstasy if you chant lightly and get drunk. The round toads have not yet gone up and the setting sun has set. They have counted all the new toads and closed the door.
The wind leaves traces at the end of the sand, and the evening is cool. After the rain, the sound of mountain whispers makes me wake up in bed. Luo Wen's water is more stable than the empty dowry, and Pin Yu's sail is like a painting fan. ○In earthly affairs, in Shuiyun Township, the barbarians are good at planning and working hard to join the merchants. When I dreamed of returning to the moon and arriving at Wu Peng Yue, I recognized Shuangxi and sailed across it at night.
In the sentence, the spring posture is green and green, and the sky is newly blooming with traces of fat. There are trees and people standing in the distance, and orioles are flying around in the wind. ○Moving to the evening window, occupying the empty island, the flute is playing in the water window and the breeze is blowing. The eyes are full of endless emotions, and I want to pick apple blossoms and smile.
I shed tears in Tokyo to talk about my dreams, and lose my life in ruins of paper. With fragrant lips, I beg for wine to welcome the New Year, but when I become jealous, I hate the flowers given to me for the New Year. ○No words, but a long moan, a short crotch and an elegant cry. Don't think it's too much to be a good friend, even if you live with a good friend, you're also the boss.
On the right day, the alum head hates the short wall, but this year there is no gurgling behind the house. Green pine trees may not hinder a wise path, but gray hair certainly does. ○ Chi Lu'er, control the yellow shoulder, compete with Qiu Fan in hundreds of ways.Exposed the stick to the east and returned to the ear, and the servants were free to leave the camp.
The chanting is flowing on the temples and the tears are drying, and it is difficult to return to the sea. However, from the Jiu Mo cruise route, I recall the Shuangxi short pole boat. ○Outside the fields and rivers, beside the wild incense, I smile while drinking. The crows have all flown away and the firewood gate is closed, but the mountains are still full of people watching the setting sun.
The east wind is cloudy for ten days, and the sorrow of spring blows sparse hairpins on the snow. In the desolate day of the human world, the blue waves ripple in the hearts of the dead. ○I get tired of reading and pouring wine. I am lonely and have no place to visit. A night in Jiangcheng Huangmeiyu is not as deep as Xu Zhou's tears.
Don't be afraid of Tusu wine entering your lips, and the curtain door becomes strangely warm despite the snow remaining. The light from the sky lingers all night, and the flowers in the sea illuminate Mochun. ○The chanting temples are short, the colorful symbols are new, and the five lakes are still full of people who have not yet returned. It will be easier next year to help the plows and repay Tiao Mountain with a frame of clouds.
Everything is new in the Gangfeng eyes, what use is it to compete with floating clouds? Occasionally, I took action from the pheasant, but I refused to lower my head to pick up the benefits. ○ Worrying about the country's disease, groaning in agony, the whole family is pounding medicine to stir up autumn dust. Wine boats, tea sets, rivers, good weather, begging for cormorants in spring.
The Guan River in the city is clear with snow, and I wander alone to avoid the bright eyes. Spring sorrow is like water with gulls rising, and the mountains are like bridges and geese. ○The years have changed, and the fragrance of rain has disappeared. Who can write poems and send them to the thatched cottage? The temple bells ring when you wake up from the drunkenness, just like listening to river boats in the middle of the night.
Like the clear water, the hair shines on the temples, respecting the predecessors and the end of the world. The wine intestines are as thick as a halberd, and the writing pen is frosty and miserable. ○ Throw a pillow and sit down, roll up the old sigh, don’t be afraid of the crow roosting behind the evil crow. The red candles change to the human world, and the green mountains return to the dream home.
Hundreds of teams are traveling in the meandering spring, and thousands of forest steps are covered with light and deep clouds. The cloudy and sunny days are like wine, and the sadness and joy are flowers in the new year. ○The dream of flowers is short, the wine is sad, and the sweetness is endless. The Taoist does not smile at the east wind, but sweeps the floor and burns incense to write a book.
The little fairy is not beautiful, and the golden layer of the platform misses Chanjuan. I have paid Qianqi a favor several times, but I have endured loneliness for more than ten years. ○The water from Qiu arrows and the smoke from magpie furnace will scatter money without any reason. It's already the time to worry about the curtains, and I'm trying to send Xinhan outside.
The golden dou is filled with smoke towards the cool evening, and the frost is flying when it hits the curtain. The fragrant phoenixes formed a team one after another, and it was too crazy to shake the game. ○3 Sighing, thinking a hundred times, and severing the ileum are common. In front of the mirror, I learned how to throw my hair into a bun, but I was still jealous of the crazy flowers.
Tiny dust waves avoid Luo Shen, jade-faced fan and gentleness. The morning glory whispers pity in the palace at night, and rides at the palace gate to worship the Lord. ○The rain turns over, the clouds merge and leave, and the snow only sheds its old cry over the years. Qing Kuang would rather have no regrets when he goes away, but he embroiders a long banner to pay homage to the World Honored One.
His singing voice is always superb, and he has endured many lives without losing his temper. Zhirao is now using his hair as Xiangze, but he is not willing to use his body as a pillow. ○The toad bites the lock, the magpie crosses the beam, the owner is interested in Wang Chang. I am lucky to have a dream of a brothel, sitting next to a beautiful lady.
I heard that Chanyuan traveled to Beizhu, and the east wind was as cold as autumn in the garden. There are no more decorations on the palace body, and it is forbidden to make a bow in rows. ○Happiness is easy to disperse, dreams are hard to stay, and the female bed Luan tree is worried about others. The red silkworm is as haggard as the cocoon, and it has not rested since it has reeled out all the spring silk.
Looking in the mirror hazy and lazy to take off my hair, I laugh out of boredom in vain. Looking at the blue bird, the news is happy, but the black dragon lying on the ground is jealous of the matchmaker. ○The word "Sheng" is wrong, Jin Shuo returns, and he is willing to devote his efforts to the bed. I don’t know if the ninth day of the ninth lunar month is still the seventh day of the lunar month, and I fold a red note to express my hatred.
may not be young yet, just like the bees and butterflies. The side businessman Xiaoling renovated the water, and the old branches were crazily fragrant. ○In the wind and rain, some people are singing "Bi Hong'er" in a low voice. Only then did I realize that the golden bells were ringing all over the trees, which made people feel sad for the fallen leaves in autumn.
I have always loved you through all the calamities, and I will wear incense sticks with you. The ungrayed wax torches are spelled into tears, and the strings of the hanging strings are broken and I can't bear to stop singing. ○ Stop hesitating, it’s been wasted, and the whip is too much to bear. There will be encounters in the world, but what is the hope of youth?
Dare to learn from the ancient paintings of Pingxiang, but learn from the example of Shenggou Yuanlu. The scalp is still there to look at the mirror, and the heart is exhausted but the cup is covered. ○The ants are full, the horses and cows are shouting, and the names and official positions are in the general area. The monument is almost like a levy of Western characters, but Mr. Wang’s pen has disappeared.
Loyalty and filial piety have never been fulfilled. In recent years, Jiang has been extraordinarily warm. The rhinoceros horns in the eyes are wrong, and the cow clothes behind are full of hatred. ○Things are revealed, and the body of water is clouded, and the lyricist puts all his efforts in vain. It's sad that in this human world, there is no unfinished cause in other lives.
The water of the sob Dan Leng is not rippled, and the little red snails float around. Sitting in the wind, the autumn fragrance is close, and the coolness of the dew is too much. ○ From the filthy man, why will the sun die? There is no need to worry about the drunken captain in Ba Ling. The visitor in front of Baitouye Shiting Pavilion disappeared all his life, Ming Ke.
The cicada's wings are single and silky, but the silk is not light. The pink is clear and the vermilion is thin but becomes full and full. Call for the shameless hanging luan fan, don't pretend to throw the little wild goose kite. ○The clouds protect you, the moon is about to greet you, and you are the most pitiful among the people. Huahua is relatively used to it, so she doesn't want to respect her previous opinions.
Several high-rise buildings are hidden to send the sunset, and the Tianjiao evening festival is accompanied by the cold fragrance. The colorful clothes and the walking stick call for Wendu, and the vertebrae are bunned with Meng Guang in the New Year. ○Autumn is shining, the sun is long, and I can see red mulberry trees on the sea for three years. West Lake Return to the boat to look for the gulls to make an appointment, so that the plum blossoms can enter the cup.
[Second Fragrance Two Songs]
The sky is still misty, click away the two liang, and the corner of the building is green clouds. Dream appointments can't come, and a microwave can't hold you back. The injury has not been taken into account, but the autumn is still a little bit, and there is fresh frost on the temples. Gradually, I fall in love with you, miss you every other year, and drink deeply under the flowers. ○Who feels that the back is weak and twilight, and he is impatient to sing at night, and the jade rope is low. The plan for the five lakes is wrong, and the apple blossoms in the country are no longer what they were yesterday. What's more, the oars painted on the empty river are desolate and damaged, and Xiao Niang's eyebrows are in calyx. Waiting for a message, the river rises, and the moonlight sets again.
The color of dew is jade, with tears on one side, and the east wind can hear the flute. Dreaming of the old stone lake, the high branches have not yet been picked. Looking into the mirror, I feel a little sad about spring. I am worried about thinking about it, and I am writing leisurely in Jiangguan. Calling you to sleep, a fairy cloud appears, whispering cranes compete for seats. ○In the country of Xiang, the old covenant is silent, the sea of miasma is cut off, and the dust accumulates half a calyx. Feng Jian cried by mistake, not allowing us to meet but remembering each other. The discussion in the golden house was not approved, and the resentment was swallowed, and the Luoting was desolate and green. The message is waiting to be sent. The rare green feathers are cold and can be tolerated.
[ Zhu Yingtai's three recent poems by ]
The candle flowers are cold, the furnace spikes are heavy, and the makeup is half-curtained. Luo Fan's grace is sparse, and the word "Jin Ji" disappears. It is extremely pity that the spring shirt is wide and the autumn quilt is narrow, and the Chu clouds are heavy and the dream cannot support me. ○Drinking. Because we were separated from each other overnight, our temples turned into stars. There is no basis to remember each other, and there is no plan to pity each other. I would like to turn my heart into a round ice, fold it layer by layer, shine upon it, and draw a screen to the bottom of the mountain.
The peak screen is covered, the stone is noisy, and the evening sun is gathering outside the sand. Unexpectedly, the fragrance is sparse, but the beauty is still gorgeous. The noisy birds' crows break through the clear sorrow. When the east wind does not arrive, the countless branches will be blown away. ○Already feeling miserable. The wine floats on the clothes, and the maidservant sheds a thousand tears. It's hard to reach old age, and the clouds are dark at dusk. Therefore, the mountains are not without spring, and the desolate waves are mournful, but they come and stand on the threshold of the end of the world.
The bun is emerging, the makeup is swept away, and the hair is worn with slight steps. Walking onto the red carpet, all the seats are filled with eyes. The fragrant sandalwood shoots at the frightened giant, the spring orioles stop singing, and I want to listen to the fairy music of Jialing. ○More expressions. Walking empty-handed with the wind in your sleeves, liberation is always unimpeded. Is it Li Henan or Li Bomei. Sometimes I take off my singing shirt, put flowers in front of the mirror, pick one, and force Xiao Nan to wear it.
[Five Songs of Water Dragon]
Spring has gone for a long time in Baolan, but the jade slave is still trapped by the east wind. The thick posture is washed with tears, the loneliness is not allowed, the rain is crisp and the smoke is dizzy. The dimples disappear and the dust disappears, the ice silk is worn, and the beauty is strong. Since Xie Lang left, no one has asked about the money on Yaotai Road. ○We tease each other and don't agree with each other, but we accompany him to the palace to hear the news. In the days to come in the West Garden, there will be countless wilting flowers. Gradually blow into powder. What's more, Feiqiong is about to leave the song, but Su Luan has no faith. Looking towards the bright moon, I see a branch of dew, annoyed by the new frost on my temples.
The dream of beauty does not wake up and worries about spring, and there is a thousand red places to explore the beauty. Whether it is emptiness or color, Yao Ji is drunk and Vimalakirti is sick. Amid the sound of Jie drums, the red flags are visible, and the east wind stares at them. Laughing at the prosperity, idle bees and butterflies, the sky is chaotic, and there is frost. ○When I heard about the colorful decorations in the Tang Palace, I decorated the curtains as much as I wanted. If you lose his romance, you will have a cellar of fragrant clouds and spring flowers. The rapid growth brings beauty, the winter heats up the mind, and you have a good life experience. Ask the high-rise building to complain about the flute, howling at dusk, are the plum blossoms blooming yet?
The sky is like a thousand-foot collapsing pines, and the thunderstorm flies through the sky and reaches no place. A knight-errant in Beijing, wandering in the mountains and forests, this man is haggard. I'll just sit back and follow the dust. It's not my business to come to Kyushu. In the midst of an urgent calamity, I pushed away the plank and let go, confused and confused. ○ I also know the case of Peng Shang, who is saddened by the past. The Great Wall The horses are merging, and the clouds are beating against each other, and the autumn is thousands of miles away. Returning to lie down in the deserted river, my dreams broke in the middle of the night, and I shed tears in the miserable spring. What's more, it will bring sorrow and blessing, and the soul of Hunan will return, even in the human world?
Ten years of life were in danger, so Wang Jing climbed up the stairs in silence. Yu Yuan was in a hurry, but he could bear it for a moment and then calm down. The land is filled with worries, and the old dreams are banished, and they are all broken up once and for all. There is no point in the pain to attract the soul, and there is an edict to express mourning, and the tears in the sky are gone in the middle of the night. ○The dying Zhongxing disappears, and the wind and clouds cover the hills. Wuxi wrote an ode, Maoling asked for manuscripts, Zhan Ming has no limit. I sing a sad song alone. When the purple clouds go away, I will be desolate. The wilderness is left to fetch, man and nature are lonely and angry, and all the spirits are with him.
The official boat with painted curtains is in the clear autumn, and the five lakes are as smooth as the palm of their hand with wine. The Hairpin Festival is over, the plum trees are far away, and the mountains and rivers are safe. The golden tiger is in the wild smoke, the purple red is riding on the new horse, and the rewards are distributed with love. When I asked Huangchi where the sword energy was sinking, there was a sound of sheng and yu at the bottom of the pool. ○Who is the prime minister in the ancestral hall, and Fei Gou stays in ZTE's thoughts. The war drums of the east wind are replaced in a hurry, and the sound of the west pond is sung. A game of vicissitudes of life, nine poems and poems, and several times of despair. I hope that next year will be more healthy, the green walls will be rubbed again, and the yellow flowers will be poured into the wine.
[ decoding the five poems of ]
The rain is extremely cold, and the water is getting thicker near the West Pond, making the screen a scarlet color.I am tired of traveling, and I am shouting at the wine bar. I hear the beeps incessantly, and the distant sky is like ink. The messy leaves are red, suddenly scattered, and there are traces of mandarin ducks. Facing the floating smoke and dark candles, the ancient curtains are painted, and the country disappears. ○The green window has been full of resentment, and there are trees at the end of the world, and the sound of sadness is mixed in. There will be appointments and heavy dreams among the fragrant bushes. I am afraid that the flowers in front of me will drift away, and I will always be melancholy. After all the dry loads have been wiped out, they have never been reduced. Qiutang Boli. But winning, tears in the mirror, breaking the clouds together.
Xi Hua Chi Pavilion, protecting double drawing boards, light spring and low network. The shadows are smiling and dancing, the expression is graceful, and the worries are uncertain, and the swallows are fluttering and the orioles are moored. Don't bet on yourself, someone is there, watching through the wall. Put the clothes on the ground, rectify the phoenix hairpin, and the cicadas will still plunder the temples. ○The handsome tour in the West Garden seems like yesterday, the embroidered pillars are covered with moss and are easy to blow down. When I asked about it, I relied heavily on Chunjiao, and my eyes were full of lovesickness, and I couldn't hold my back. The pear moon is melting, and it is leisurely and evil. Dongfeng Hongsuo. At that time, where the fragrance was lingering on my hands, bees buzzed tiredly.
The green screen is fragrant and silent, and the bronze curtains promote the evening, and the jealous clouds are wandering. I remember that every year of Ye'e and Fangmo, the scenery changes several times, and the dust on my forehead is dark. Looking forward to the widow'e, for the spring scenery of the six streets. It is very clear that the blue luan has little faith, and the shaft of the moon is in the sky, falling and throwing it lightly. ○ Cangzhou is half lost in the old country, the copper and flowers are reflected in it, and the sky is full of sorrowful memories. I want to shed tears all over the place, and feel miserable for the Golden Immortal, who is about to die for the time being. Don’t sing into the small shadows of mountains and rivers. Play the mourning pipe. With a broken lantern on my back and someone supporting me, I dream of finding a cold post.
The broken incense traces lead to the cries of smoke and green feathers, and you can peek into the gap between the curtains. The dark tent paper, the remaining ink, and the musk dust mixed with it, half disappeared on the forehead of the palace. I endure the cold, have a makeup mirror, and cry in sorrow. I am disappointed that the new song scatters the snow, the old music has a faint fragrance, and the broken red cannot be found. ○I accidentally threw it in the dream of Yaotai, and the clouds on the beautiful mountains commented on the mooring, and I smiled shyly. When cooking, the cyan jade is always soaked in cold springs, ripples of sorrow, unable to change the spring. The soul has not returned, so I will not complain. High-rise building transverse flute , accompanied by dusk, backlight shadow, Cuizun can be seen.
The emotions are tied up with sorrow, and the bones are refreshed by the wild smoke. The sky is endless. Next to the dew well and the sparse leaves of tung trees, I believe that after passing through the cool dusk, I can paint the true colors of autumn. After the wine is finished, the geese and books are broken, and the clouds are floating in the northeast. Looking at the green mountains in the three mountains, the dust rising in the sea, it is difficult to remember the feelings. ○Come here and have fun. Looking into the fresh frost mirror, Wu smiles and his head turns white. Waiting to knock on the king and make a secret appointment with Luanchai, he is afraid that he will sleep soundly on the pillow and sell Yaobi secretly. I dreamed of entering Guanyu, but I was filled with hatred and cold waves. The west wind blows away, complaining and whispering, and accompanying others.
[ Qi Tianle Thirteen Songs]
The brocade nest is wet with red clouds in spring, and things are happening in the Forbidden City in a hurry. Leng Zong Yanjiao, stop bathing in the hot spring, and change the world with the east wind. In Chanyuan's dream, she deliberately put on new makeup, washed her cigarettes and combed her hair. Extremely jealous of Yaotai, the jade concubine is speechless and depressed. ○Lvzhang is melancholy and begs again. The night is full of wax, and his mood is unclear. I resent the coldness of the phoenix and the darkness of the toad, and the thick tears of Yanzhi are wiped out. The beautiful flowers are displayed across the street, and they are willing to lose to the west corridor, which is charming with spring peaches and plums. If you don't marry Hanzhang, the plum blossoms will fall and the remaining pistils will be regretted.
Longchi is light-colored and the east wind is gentle, and the spring light shines through the city first. Three rises and three sleeps, one wave and one sleep, decorate the cold time. Ninety-nine pieces of silk and silk are replaced by a new look. Mo Chen was amused. In the magpie tail incense, I waved my Hanyutang hand a few times. ○ Qingyin: Things are far away in the sky, the royal screen announces the office, and the jade case is in the velvet. Liuguan Time, a century-old cultural relic, is no ordinary nostalgia. Fangshao is all there, but there is no spiritual harmony in the dream, and the rain is soothing and the smoke is slipping away. I broke the moss paper and filled it carefully with plum blossoms and thin pistils.
The flowers in the city are like sleeping in the cold weather, and the rain can be heard all night long. The old foil lamps are floating, the new mud is clogs, and the misty spring mood is in the empty mountains. Looking for gulls on the road, asking who is the master of the severing of the alliance in the desolate snowy west bay. The astringent finger refers to the frost string, and the sorrow of the night window is pressed against the last year's score. ○ Tired cranes hang by the drooping rainbow, twittering thousands of times around the branches, complaining empty-handedly about missed dates. The bamboo book lattice is covered, the branches are intertwined with the mirror screen, and the sparse fragrance is abandoned. As Wu Bo said, he was afraid of stepping heavily on the rock and getting lost in the dust. Later, we made an appointment with a secluded neighbor, and the dream clouds separated the fields.
After half a day of cold weather and dusk, the plain forest gradually becomes more sad. Tired shadows nestle in the smoke, sour voices are silent in the moonlight, and the north and south of the city are full of dust. Chang'an html The four-year-old girl cries into Yanqiu again, pecking her all over her old home. Asking about the setting sun, Yuyan lamented about the old round fan. ○The birds flying south are astonished and dispersed in the sky. The bad formation is in the autumn, the empty boat is treading in the dark, where is Yang Kanlian's love. The dream of Jiangguan is short, and I am afraid that the old nest will be replaced every year. A single crane returns to nothingness, so don’t regret it when it is late.
The leaves in the high forest are unnoticed, but the autumn is less shocking in Chang'an. Tears cover the sparse lapels, sorrowful calls break the corners, and new knots are wounded in the arms. The road back is bleak, facing the swaying Cangzhou, surrounded by thousands of traces of dreams. Standing until the setting sun reaches its limit, the old friends will not arrive together with the wild geese. ○The chaos of the Qing Dynasty is reduced, the old sentences are embedded in the wall, and the tobacco is empty. The homeland is full of dragons, flying immortals support cranes, and the news is faintly heard Jiang Biao. The centrifugal force is quiet, playing a flute at dusk, the water and wind are still in tune. Send a message to Nanyun, the people of Maoling are getting older.
A light red is not as good as Qiong Niang's dimple, but a heavy step builds the new Asia. The musk hair is in fashionable makeup, the clouds are melting into greasy jade, and there are handfuls of ice silk in front of the mirror. The soul of spring gradually fades away, leaving the fragrant basket and fairy clothes, and the cold clouds are all removed. Awakening the loneliness, who is carrying the autumn couple? ○The man in the clothes has not been gone for a long time, and the painting railing is not warm, so he went to visit. The bright brocade is at the beginning of the frost, the setting sun is at the end of the tree, and the sadness is gone into the dusk. After dreaming of the fairy city, the remaining lead tears are secretly flooded, and I remember you in the clear night. The moon falls in the river sky, where can I write in the green silk?
Candle dragons fly onto the coral shore, and thousands of lights in the sky become buds. The dried scales cover the spots, and the scars are obtained, which are condensed into the continuous stream and collected in the morning. The smoke is moist and the dew is irrigating, so I wear a warm velvet towel, and I have been able to endure the cold. The old spring bushes are gone, but the poor Zhu Feng is still in her old nest. ○The beauty of the Yue Wang Terrace shines brightly on a stormy night, and the sky is half dark. The cocoon butterfly moves home, the scenery of Rongsha changes, who can see outside Gugen Ridge. The Jiao Ke has not been changed, so it is good to stay there every year, and I wish you the best. The dream is full of hibiscus, and the sun is blooming on the green sea.
I endure the tears of the new pavilion every year, and the country is too devoid of talent. The villages are empty and the battlements are destroyed. Where can we go in such a difficult situation? Frost is rising in all directions, with the sound of frightened geese, half-military. I am used to mourning the autumn, and it is always boring to belong to each other. ○Who can share the beauty of faith when you climb up the stairs? If you haven’t returned to the lake and the sea, how many separations can there be? Flowers will fade tomorrow, white hair will appear in the morning, and people will be surrounded by misty waves. The old gift of dogwood, looking at the floating clouds in the northwest, makes me wake up drunk from a dream. And the shadow of the dangerous fence, leaning on it without hesitation.
Hemp shoes With no intention of returning, I feel lonely in the world. The whole room pretends to be cold, and the guests return from far away, and the autumn tide of separation and hatred grows with them. The chanting is dirty, and I want to leave my life in the mulberry fields, so I go back to the place. Taking care of one's own mourning strings, who can save Du Ling in the Northern Expedition? ○The wind returns to the lonely tree gradually. I can’t climb up the side, and I feel melancholy on the wrong road. The Gujiao Central Plains, the vast swamps of mist, what a place worthy of alliance and restful soil. The lonely light is close by, Shengshou is lying on the deserted river, looking at it with his white head. The dream music book, the sound of wild geese in the south of the building.
After the lonely minister Jiang Hai Zhan Ming, his beloved wife returned to him for ten years. Du Lao's hemp shoes, Winter Lang's candles, and long-knotted goblet are in past dreams. Wu Gou is sitting there, willing to grow old and sink, and has always been flying. Don't worry about the world, don't work hard and enjoy the glory of the day. ○Leaving the country with a white head and a light fortune, the road has lost its ancient meaning and destroyed the fragrant urn. Doubei is climbing, Zhounan is falling, and the moon is still bright for thousands of miles. The hemp is folded and sent away, but the gulls still have the intention to cherish it. Yue Ke chants, and the sick shoulders are shrugged by frost at night.
The remnant cuckoo in Xichuan is crowing, but the country has not sold out its literary algae. At the beginning, Qingmin bloomed into green ink, and the wax flowed as brightly as possible. I hold the sutra alone, facing the kitchen there are several rainbows, and I hold a huge treasure. The rare book is so large that it is surrounded by crimson clouds. ○Tianzhang is relieved of his anger, and the luan returns to the phoenix dance and flies down to Pengdao. The secret book is engraved with flowers, the magic goblet is used to understand the secrets, and the family method can be revealed in the forest. The humble ministers chanted and prayed, thinking about entertainment and entertainment, and the signs of ZTE. Shijie Gongjian, right text and read and recreated.
The emerald green is slightly ethereal, the tower is Asia, the frost is beautiful, the sky is bright, and the island is in the sky. The mountains protect the clouds, the waves absorb the moonlight, and I dream about the windows separated by flowers. The fragrance period is dark, and I am afraid that the water leaves will turn red, and I will feel like last year. Who invites the east to hide in the old place? The pines and laurels in the hall are full of fun. ○Who knows the clearness of a lapel, the soft dust cannot fly, Ran Ran's poem. The merchant chants the whining flute, and the jade plays the idle flute, but only the gulls can speak. I am tired of traveling in the west wind, and I hope to return to the boat with great despair. I will pay for my leisure time. Stand up to the setting sun, and the flowers are deep even to the villa.
At dusk, even the trees are fisted and the crows are silent, and the river is cold and the flute cannot be heard. The leaves are frightened by the waves, the wind blows and the horns are broken, and the sad farewell returns to Luan thousands of miles away. The lamp window leans on itself, the ice gradually folds into Wu Mian, and the wine is thin and careless. There is still a lingering fragrance, but the deep night does not warm my old heart. ○The deserted chicken calls the tired traveler in vain, but when the frost and sleet gather, who will take advantage of it? The sound of arrows and water is numerous, the lattice yarn is light-colored, and the cold toads are sleepless. The green quilt in the west building is afraid that I will be sad overnight and it will be difficult to send the jade. The dawn waxes with red cries, and the traces of dreams are washed away with tears.
[Two Songs of Crow's Night Cry]
The spring clouds are deep in the virtual altar, and the chime is broken. Walk around the pine yin with double leads and come out of the vermilion balustrade. ○It blows constantly and the yellow line is mulberry stem. The sunset is speechless again, going down Cangshan Mountain.
The west tower gurgled all night, and the jade furnace was broken. Only the apricot blossoms are at the same temperature and the weather is cold. ○The spring tide is long, staring at the sky, the magnolia boat. If you don't believe in the word "Return Date", please read more.
[Dream Lotus Two]
Xixia Mingduanqi. Bring the east wind to the geese, and the bamboo shoots will be ten miles away. The spring road is empty in the mirror, and my mood is light. Pan Yu seeks wild drunkenness. It attracts autumn glances every year. Looking forward to visiting the mountain spirit, I regret that the servant girl is not ready, and the orioles are calling out. ○Turn to Yaotai’s eyes. It is suspected that there is a double success, so the chain is ended. The old dust is like a dream, and it has to be washed away by chaotic clouds. Stay in the saddle to eliminate Ming Cui. The setting sun is cold and cold. I am not afraid of the spring review, I know that the road to immortality is close, and the slightest steps sound feng shui.
curtain flower shakes Mengqi. Leading the way to Yunchao, we reached the village of Liva. The blue waves have no shore, and autumn is outside the golden opportunity. The cold clouds make the guests drunk. Xiting once tried shampoo. In front of the crisp flute wind, people calling for autumn are walking late, and fine dust is rising from their socks.○The scrolls are all at the bottom of Wuhun.com. The sound of the flute comes and goes, and the pendants are scattered in Zhongzhou. Tyranny asked again, smiling redly. The distant peaks are closed to sweep the green leaves. The mandarin ducks express their jealousy. Cooking at home, looking for old stories from barbarians, drifting across the five lakes.
[Raofo Pavilion]
The cyanotic smoke gathers in the sky, the incense outside is resting, and the decayed light shines on the Xiao Temple. Pearls and dew float on the pistils, which always urge handsome couples to get drunk every spring. Leaning against the painting railing again, who would have expected that peace and hatred are difficult to deal with. The remains touched the ground. There must be an autumn soul secretly awakening in the middle of the night. ○The characters on the wall are scattered, and the detailed words have been lost for hundreds of generations. What's more, the old friend shed tears when he was hurt. The west wind is always cold, and the flute next door is eerie. Don't know the future yet. There is a situation in the west hall where I sit alone and have no sleep. Around the flower shade, the traces of dreams are like water.
[Preface to the Oriole's Cry]
The light clouds are dim near the building, and the spring clouds are everywhere. The painting railings are wrapped around, the frozen willows are first weeping, and dark knots form in the sky. The little birds are calling, the years are passing by, and the desolate waves are wandering late, but there is no doubt. I am away from people, my heart is broken, the sun is setting, and the flakes are falling. ○In the past ten years of Donghua, I have been obsessed with wine and relied on my own faith. Looking at the road in the mirror, I can see the familiar West Pond, where the sound of Chu Yin flows and the resentment of red green is flowing. Endowed with deep feelings, Lanquan embroidery brush, tears bursting, copper fairy lead water. I am accustomed to hurting spring, and the butterflies and orioles are silent. How can I wake up from my dream? ○Liu Lang is getting old, Pengshan is just around the corner, and he is tired of old travels. When the sky is tight and the east wind blows, the crimson pistils turn upside down and the misty cuckoo sounds mislead people. The Milky Way is moving at night, the Pearl Palace is knocking in the morning, and the incense paper flies out of the Luan seal script, quietly and darkly, the sea is vast and the stars are hanging on the ground. Love is full of resentment, and the foggy cloud windows in the pavilion suddenly throw away the red weft. ○Old songs from Hengfen, new chants from quarrying stones, materials for painting are just late. Afraid of inspection, outside the furnace and smoked flowers, the flute music is on the edge of the plum blossoms, the wine is sober and the goblet is on the edge, Fengcheng Twelve. Drinking in the tent at the east gate, carriages and horses on the west platform, looking back at the place with white heads in the rivers and lakes, cherishing the beauty, and having to cover the wounds with high robes. The white gull is gone and it is difficult to tame it, the swallow curtain is alone, and its soul is wandering thousands of miles away.
[Fifteen Poems of Bodhisattva]
The Japanese in the green cloud fell into a low position and his servant girl was heavy, and he was doting on each other for no reason. Peacocks fill the southeast, and the water in Shenzhong is filled with water at night. ○Some people have red candles on their backs and light makeup on their eyebrows. Why do you plant spring sorrow? When spring breaks, the sorrow will not end.
Both faces should be angry and happy, and the new and charming look is unconstrained. The mirror is filled with tears, and I am jealous of spring. ○Two swallows in the middle pond, learning and speaking are different. The waist and limbs are worked hard, and the flowers are tired to support her.
The orioles' cries break through the red clouds and heat, depriving him of the season of deep sleep and flowers. If the swing is not dismantled, who can be patient in spring? ○The peaches are not fully climbed, and the beauty is lost in secret. Teach him Yu Wei Sheng, both of you will listen or not.
I sleep with my head covered with a long book in the phoenix nest, and I have no intention of raising flowers and fighting on the grassland. Supporting the dream to go down the west tower, I feel sad on the Furong River. ○The road is long and the oars are rushing, and the teams are bathing in red clothes. If we don’t live together in Hengtang, Qiuchao will be busy day and night.
The talented dragon cake leaves people with words, and the gift of treasures drives people away. Going to live in two hazy places, there is no way to connect with each other. ○I turn over the elephant game in the morning, and I am too lazy to draw the Qiongchai divination. Until the flowers fall, you will not know the sorrow of spring.
The dragon species sheds tears in front of the flowers on its sleeves, and its white head gathers its collar to smell of spring. I am walking wildly on the solitary tent, and the wind is blowing from east to west, north and south. ○ I glanced at the old tree, but no orchid buds were seen. Pouring wine behind the curtain, the pear blossoms are cold to the heart.
The wind is strong in Xizhou and the birds are chirping, and the swallows in Wenliang have no place to live. Looking at each other in the Yujin Hall, the heart is full of fragrance. ○The beauty of the mountain is frowning, and the spindle is spinning. Lang's intention is not clear, and the green window is idle and dreaming.
carp The wind is blowing and the waves are rising, and Huang Gu is knocking on the stars at night. The ice shuttle is gathered with a smile, and the river is newly crossed with a slight frost. ○The zither has long and short pillars, covering up the sound and having no owner. In the dream, green plums are thrown, and the flowers in the garden are spread out.
Flowers turned to Baole Xinfengqi, and Shen Shenfang's book gold shop closed. The mountain pillow is greasy and red, and it is like throwing the luan handkerchief at a feast. ○The brocade machine has no strength, and the dense threads are woven in pairs. Thoughts are written in ashes, and Chunluo calligraphy comes.
The dogwood brocade bouquet is narrow and the Hu shirt is narrow, and the wearer is sitting on his shoulders, leaning against the flowers. Turn back the fan to call for the wind, and the red birds will bloom in the spring window. ○I feel sad and heavy, thank you Xingyun for sending me. The sound of arrows and arrows is faint, and people with floating lanterns do not return.
There are staggered pairs of bee-ya and butterfly pavilions, and the four corners of the pavilion are decorated with tassels. A sudden breeze blew over the bridge, and the wild flowers turned red. ○ How come the jade seals and green tassels are full of twists and turns. Shang Lu understands the chain, but it is difficult to take action in front of others.
Weak Yang looked down at Qin Heng, the old man. The treasure belt is a sparrow and fur, and the east is at the top. ○The pills on my back are strewn across my back, and my hands are turning around. It saves energy and produces red mulberry, and the heart of the flower is fragrant.
The whole mirror is full of reds and rushes into a single boat, and the baht clothes are in turmoil. Xinyu made an appointment with Xia for dinner, but she regretted not having a book to repay him. ○ The fairy skirt has a thin pleat, covering the mandarin duck's sleep. The word brocade is too unfounded, and leisure and sorrow arise hand in hand.
My belt was untied last night and turned into knots, and I was afraid of the wind when it invaded the green space in the morning. Don't go near the west end of the river. You will be completely naked. ○The heart of the piano is with you, and the dream breaks the couple of Qin and Taiwan. The paper tube is full of autumn, and the mirror is red with tears.
The insects sing in the cauldron of warm medicine, and I am tired and don’t care about the remaining lamp.The river geese are sleeping in sorrow, and the thin curtains are catching the dawn cold. ○ A careful inspection of wine glasses will reveal the depth of alcoholism in autumn. Don't worry about your waistline, just wear it down.
[Four Songs of Tasha Xing]
A single shirt that shines in the water, a small fan with a fragrant fragrance. In the evening, I feel sad and lean on the railing. The cold gulls don't come back every once in a while, and the mirror's heart turns red overnight. ○After being drunk in the mountains and lakes, it hurts the heart. Autumn comes to draw complaints about Wucheng. The tired guests of Xie Tang always disappear, and no one sheds tears to wet the flying swallows in the west.
The wax snow suppresses the plum blossoms, and the fragrant ash drains the wine. Those who cross the river fall behind the east wind. Crazy reputation and short clothes, separation and separation are like willows in a long pavilion. ○The frost in Yan Guan is heavy, and the moon in Liang Yuan is thin. Thirty years of scenery for nostalgia. I spent my old age with tears and Jiangnan, and spent my time worrying about the messy flowers on the wrong road.
The name of the word "jin" is fragrant, and the meaning of the strings of the piano is wonderful. Twelve garland flowers. When the wind comes, there should be the harmony of Feng Sheng, and when the moon shines, the eyebrows of the moth will be bowed. ○The snow is clear and the clouds are white. Yutai The family law is thousands of years old, who can interpret the flow of waves in the south of the Yangtze River, and share the king's beautiful words to eliminate debts.
Flowers win more than time, love words in the basin. It is a majestic night of ice and snow, and there are many clouds at the end of the day. How can you, sir, be an idle chanter? ○Short brown romance, the Great Wall sounds pricey. Song Yi's poems were written in the same society, holding a cup and dancing with a sword, and scrambling for a picture of smoke and silk.
[河都神]
The wax smoke of the candle trees is faint, and the white horse in the flower robe comes. The sky is moving across the sea, green dust is flying, and the flags are full of flags in the morning and evening. ○The wet mist lingers in the Banzhu Courtyard, and wild crows circle like an array. The emperor's son did not return in the evening of autumn, and he dreamed of the bronze chariot in his single quilt.
[Four Poems of Linjiang Immortals]
The old covenant has been lonely for ten years, and the high buildings have been cleared overnight. The blue sky is like water with geese flying in the air. Under the fluttering bamboo, there was the sound of sleeping on the bed. ○It is a pity that the desolate stream stirs up dreams, and the apes and birds in the simple book are still frightened. Call Mingyue urgently to send you a cup. Eliminate worries and spend your life with a pair of smiles.
There is no place to talk about the lovesickness at the bottom of the flowers, the incense remains and the candles linger. The spring cold is distributed to the single habitat. The sorrow is greater than the amount of brocade, and the hatred is curled up in Luoyi. ○Who believes that by the side of Xie Niangxiang Pavilion, the brocade characters at the end of the world are mesmerizing. The willow flowers are blown by the wind and the orioles are singing. Don't weep on your lonely pillow, looking for dreams in the west of the moon.
Keep the money in front of you and drink deeply, and don't have to worry about it. The bright moon lingers on the tall building. There is no doubt about waving the glass, but it is not appropriate to stop playing the flute. ○Personnel information has been lonely for a long time, and dreams come to China. I can't stop crying at midnight. There are love songs in the small sea, but there are no girls watching the high hills.
Autumn is gone and I have nowhere to go. I chant leisurely, drunkenness and restraint. Who knows that old travel in Xishan is wrong? The spring bamboo shoots in the street are cheap, and the fish are fattened in the net. ○ I will never ask about the fate of this life. Chunfan will return to his post. Only Ying Yang is my teacher. To avoid people, the horses are coiled, and the eyebrows are placed accordingly.
[Xia Fang Yuan Si Province]
sells the powdered rice and reduces the incense tube . Bend your knees on the copper shop to support you and fan the wind. The fragrance of weeping lingers in the dew of the tung trees beside the well. The meaning of Yi Qiu's words is red, the sleeves are red.
The palace willows are green and the water is red. Tears and eyelashes listen to the orioles, Xie Niang returns home in spring and misses her. It's better to have the same mind as Weizi. The two phoenixes are whispering in the cool night, in the middle of Shu strings.
The autumn water falls, and the stone lotuses are empty. Stepping into Lingbo, the old flowers and skirts are red. Across the river, east wind blows in the evening. For whom to drive a boat and pick hibiscus.
The joy is cold and the jade platform is empty. Resentment enters the Xiangtian sky, and dreams return to the waves with red fishtails. Qulan blows the wind. Countless colorful clouds rise in the east of Jintang.
[Qin tune lovesickness]
The east wind blows in the dream and is as lazy as the clouds, and it is the song that occupies people's arms. The flight of wild geese is low, and there is a mess of dust. ○ I am walking alone with my mind on the stiff treasure se, and I am wearing a scarf in the Pavilion of Leisure on both sides. Xiaolianzhuhu is still from last year.
[ Jade House Spring eleven poems]
The dream of the silver screen is warmer than the hairspring, and the cicada and daisy brush are warmer than the comb luan mirror. The two moths are eager to learn and the mountains are far away. How many spring sorrows are full of them. ○The book does not come late for joy, it will haunt me thousands of times. There is no basis for every word of lovesickness. It is better than the south tower behind the geese.
Beside the Jinse dressing table, the sky in the south of the Yangtze River is so far away when I wake up from my dream. If you change it to Pan Yanjing, you can see that Chu's waist skirt doesn't care about her thinness. ○Don't regret meeting each other late when we are in love. We will hold the red incense in our hands and cherish it. Ming Dynasty There is an east wind in the land, and there is no place to persuade with hundreds of lamps and thousands of cups.
The gold-winged bun invades the morning silk, and the jade poppy in the water feels short. silk dyeing is in urgent need of spring, and the red color will be lighter before washing. ○The scenery of throwing shuttles reminds us of the Spring Festival Gala, and the Beidou hangs on the city to hear the leaky board. I pick a luan as a ribbon and send it with peach roots, so that I can share the warmth and coldness of your heart.
My heart is full of charm, but my husband's intentions are mixed. The flowers cannot be connected without stems, and the geese cannot fly away if they are sentimental. ○The spring breeze does not allow the flowers to stay idle, and the whispers lead to the empty clothes. I will ask you about your return sooner or later, and you will look at your temples in shame.
The music and songs are quiet at night on the cloud screen, and no one is allowed to listen to them in sorrow. Yan Gui is a talker at the bottom of the flower, and wakes up when the moon is full. ○ Yingying hates the dimples and looks into the mirror, but hates the shadows on the temples if you don’t believe in them. There is an east wind outside the five-shift curtain, and tomorrow the flowers in the South Garden will settle.
Waking up at dusk from the farewell wine, walking around the West Pond, the waves are like mirrors. The rain adds sourness to the green plums, and the wind clears the cherries. ○The toad flowers still illuminate the deep path, and the return date of the annoyance and chaos has not yet been determined. The dream is heavy, the wax lamp is red, and the bed is half cold and heavy, and the quilt is left.
The oil walls of the embankment are soft from car dust, and the sleeves are dyed with spring water. When will the orchids crow and the eyes clear, and the osmanthus leaves will make up the light in front of the eyebrows. ○The penis leaks into the Qiong tube at night, and the musk deer smokes at night after returning slightly drunk. The little toad is like a mirror, don't peep into sleep, it is displayed by one's own hands on the winding mountain.
It is already the setting sun and dusk, who can live under the albizia flowers . I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no fixed path. ○It was not a sentimental encounter at that time, and Hongying went with the water. Don't sleep alone to find each other. There is no place to join hands in the dream.
The sound of the boat is similar to the sound of crows rolling over Wu, but the words on the machine are not sent to Wu Niang. Just by the tide coming downstairs, I will take the old and new tears in front of you. ○The bath orchid joins hands with the year to eliminate the intoxication of music and songs. The time of flowers does not hurt the spring, but the sorrow of spring is not solved.
A young man who doesn't make any plans to kill off his youth will live up to the banquet and banquet. The cuckoo sings on a good day and night, so we must pay attention to the spring today. ○The setting sun is full of smoke and willow ileum, and the light rain orchids sheds a thousand tears. Waiting to find it in front of me, I want to avoid the spring sorrow except being drunk.
It is already the setting sun and dusk. Who lives under the acacia flowers? I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no way out. ○At that time, there was no amorous encounter. The wind blows and Hongying goes with the water. At dusk, we lay alone on our pillows, looking for each other. There was no place to join hands in the dream.
[Cockfight Chapter 2]
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the twins are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○Jiang Lang hates him to the end of the world, and is afraid to see him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain is solved, and half of the bed is messed up.
Meibian respects you, and remembers the horizontal branches. The post road is far away, and the sorrow is shallow. Looking at the dusk, no one can be seen due to the cold. ○The green servant girl's pink cheeks are still there, why does the sound of the green bird change? The moon is late and moss is growing all over. Dreaming about sparse fragrance, playing the flute in the middle of the night.
[ Tang Duoling three poems]
The first month of the month is slanting in Tiange, and the colorful clothes are leisurely in the old home. If the disease is caused by the west wind, it will also protect the screen. Enjoy the feeling of lonely and cold butterflies, but the fragrance is not there, and there are crows on the temples. ○The frost on the side of the hat fades, and all kinds of feelings increase in front of you. The people who roll up the curtains are both at the end of the world. The truth is that when you look in the mirror with autumn makeup, people are, after all, lighter than flowers.
sweeps away horse hoof marks and eliminates condensation and oil wall dust. The red heart and the frost are frequent. A jade hook sloping along the road, no longer intended, Douluo skirt. ○The dark green is charming, and the orchids are desolate in ancient spring. From year to year, we garrison the deserted villages in cold weather. Tears burst into the west wind, and the original small fire is still there, but the soul has not been summoned.
The shade of the corridor turns to the sparse locust trees, and the round toads illuminate the upper steps. Relying on Kong Zun and wandering in cool dreams. How many Qingxiang and Yao people complained, how many times, cranes flew over. ○The calyx of the lamp is half turned into ashes, and the short book is written thousands of miles back. Both Baoyan and Wangui are in bloom. In the past, all the people leaning on the railing had changed. When I asked what happened, I fell in love with the world.
[ Yanshan Pavilion ]
All the rain is gone, the light is pale yellow, and countless crows are frightened overnight. I hate Hannan. In the old days, there was only chaos and dust following the fence. After sleeping for no reason, I forgot about the misty rain in Longchi. Why bother. He pressed Che Yiliang again and replaced him with gold thread. ○It is a taboo habit to worry about one's life experience and rely on solitary roots. The clear frost accompanies people when traveling. In the west bagpipe, the mountains are full of eyes, and the spring cannot be held by silk threads. Since I am afraid of the waist of the palace, I have often been jealous of people leaning against the curtain. Go back. Still dreaming about the wind all day long.
[Three Songs of Qi Liao's Resentment]
Falling to the ground, the wine is as sweet as snow, and the nightingale wakes up from the drunkenness. With eyes open, there is a curtain across the water, the color of the weeping poplars, the pavilion in the sky above the green sky. A new sorrow has arrived by the gull's side. I respect the guests in front of me, and I am afraid of the hair on my hair. Leaning quietly on the fence, you can see wind and flowers everywhere, and the flat spring is scattered and full of thoughts. ○I didn’t get tired of traveling. When Wu Hao's shadow happened, when would he stack the drums and cast a bow? The clear waves of the green ladle, ten years of words, sigh with sorrow, the night light is silent and silent, always sold out, the love of my hometown. Flowers fly to Fengcheng, the east wind is shorter than the dream, and the tears are zero.
The flute is heard and the cup is gone, the mash is frozen and the tears are congealed. Facing the cold moon, I lie on the beam in the sky, the maple forest is black, and my dreams are broken without any basis. When I was young, Huang and I gathered together to say goodbye. It hurt our eyes, and weary guests looked at each other. Strange miasma flowers, haggard and broken red silk, hurried away, looking for the fallen alliance in the night ditch. ○The most important thing is my old friend Maoling. Rubbing the green ink, the feelings seem to be drunk but still awake. Talking about the drifting in detail, there are mourning geese, two or three calls, the horizon calls back Liaohe, teaches recognition, the old spring city. The soul of the poem is shocked, the flowers are in the shade, and the dust is dark.
The fragrance of willows blows in the shop, and the wine curtain outside the river is green. Next to the water, the cuckoo whispers, and under the spring shade, I call to the flag pavilion. Middle-aged people are full of sorrow and resentment, latent urges to change, snow on their temples and nightmares. When the peak rises and the river passes, no one can see it, and the dust of the old country grows dark. ○ I died of illness in Maoling. After the Bronze Immortal left, Jie Hui was afraid to ask Kunming.The atmosphere is full of tranquility, the old man is Mi Jiarong, the scenery of falling flowers in the south of the Yangtze River, and the love of ten years. A grieving infantryman, I wish I was drunk with sorrow and shed no tears.
[Ugly Nuerman]
A few crows fly low, flying through the wet smoke and chaos, secretly leading to the end of the year, and the columns are white. Leaning thinly on the branches, I dream of the city without leisure. Qionglou is dark and gloomy. The jade concubine is tired of dancing, but still loves the cold. ○The Ba Bridge is gone, the flowing water is soft and the jade shines back on the saddle. The forest outside and the mountain scenery at dusk are left, and Qin's servant girl is resentful. In the flute, at the end of the world, the silk clothes will return the dream lightly. On the slope of Langgan, the plum dust has not been washed away, and it is difficult to care for the lonely joy.
[Four Poems of Ruihexian]
Chechenluo Xinyu. There is Yaopu Qinzun, and the traces of the old nest are still there. The cold current Fengcheng is behind, and the west peak is half calyx, facing people. Good neighbors are accustomed to buying, so they share furniture and broken books. Cherishing the lingering fragrance, desolately entering the treasure bush, it is easy to become haggard while drinking. ○Don’t blame me. Hundred-year-old trees, empty mulberry trees for three nights, leisurely and generous, my house is full of love. Hidden in the ear, surrounded by thousands of people. You must be aware that you are a working bird. Three coins in the wind branch should not be used as a place for pilgrims. Tired and sad at dusk, I lean on the barren fence, with the thin vines facing me alone.
The spring shirt is stained with tears. Western geese arrive at the guest's pillow and leave their souls slightly. Old Weidu in the south of the city is as beautiful as the end of the world, and the flowers look like mist. Qin Zheng spreads his music, but he is afraid of wine and jade pillars stained by dust. Ask Ma Bo, Wanli Gubai, Du Juan, who knows the minister? ○Moonlight. Tonight, after all the changes, I recall the memories of Chang'an, the children of two families, tired of traveling in their remaining years. The wild reed is about as small as it can be. Don't look up when you go up to a tall building. Spring in the south of the Yangtze River is good, but the setting sun is the hardest. Across the green mountains, who cares if everything is fine? Go and live in the broken clouds.
It rains constantly. The west wind blows away again, and the wild geese leave the river. The lanterns are dim and the hall is empty. I am carelessly throwing away my books, and I am sparsely eating my wine cup. It's easy to be tired when I'm lonely, thinking about lovesickness, and the gray of spring is lingering. The material sinks into scales and does not send aromatic sound. Complaints enter the highest building. ○Need to read. The belt is wide and narrow, the camp quilt is cold and warm, the mirror has deep and shallow frown, and no one is watching. Who cares? Meng Yun is in chaos. Afraid of the curtains and candles hanging on the back, the jade hairpin knocking, and the tears in my eyes from the end of the world. If you count your youth, there will come a time when your age is getting late.
is filled with resentment. Staring into the mirror, I feel worried about my gray hair. Being homeless makes me sad to say goodbye. I am still in love with the new sound, and I am still in the past. Sit and read in the mulberry field, let the soft red and gray change the calamity. The rest of Xingge and Xishe stored manuscripts. Shi Ting hated his bones. ○No idea. I am tired of traveling in Chang'an, and I pay my respects to the cuckoo again. I am lost in my dreams, and I am crying in the snow in China. Thirty-year-old, broken heart. Afraid of climbing the stairs, my eyes will be red and have no ground, and the grass in the south of the Yangtze River will stop for a while. Relieve the sadness, the Huai River in my hometown, the moon is shining late at night.
[Eight Poems on the High Balcony]
The smoke from the floating trees is gone, the seals have faded, and the remaining cold is still the moss. There is not much meaning in the painting, and the beauty is usually buried in the dust. The setting sun means to pity each other, which means that the heart is worried and cannot tolerate gentleness. And sell him, with a cool toad on his forehead, to accompany the deep respect. ○Is the jade lady returning from Donglanbu? There is half a bundle of incense left in the bonfire, and the quilt is embroidered solitary and warm. According to the agreement, the sound of the eaves drips through the curtain until dusk. When the morning comes, the spring tide will turn away. Ask who it is and know the ice soul. Thank you for the east wind, don't look at the flowers, but worry about the roots.
Even the smoky smoke and the clear waves in the small mirror make up the West Lake in miniature. The language becomes like a bird, and the time is like a fine grass. It is clear that the red cotton road of Jade Pagoda is full of smiles but the guests are sparse. Too hasty, dragging the road to the end of the world, stacking drums in the corner of the city. ○A cup of pins and Luofubi account for the fresh wind and sun, the sky and the beard. There is the sound of cuckoos, and the morning glow is falling into the sky. Dancheng is not the same as Vimalakirti, I am afraid that the flowers will be scattered and the people will be more isolated than the mountains. Ironing returns to the soul, Xiaojie is full of flowers, leaving a verse like this.
The floating foil lights are down, and it is drizzling when I return to the building. The next year brings leisure and sorrow. The red pistils bid farewell to spring, and the east wind blows over the deserted ditch. The golden twins form a knot in the heart, but the dream is still lingering, and Yan Leng scratches his head. Leaning against the empty curtain, the bright mirror lingers, and the temples change into flowers and shame. ○The east wall sent Mr. Xianyang away lightly, fearing that in the next three years Chu Yu would fall ill. The waves are turbulent, and the white bird is gone and hard to stay. The flowers in the barrier are laughing and flying in the spring language, bearing old feelings and beautiful jade horns. Although it is cold and cold, there are many twists and turns, and it will be the festival of Qin Yu.
Cold jade and autumn clouds, decaying silk and dim willows, and alum heads are lightly painted on the forest hills. Xiyue was born late, and she looked down and could not see her sad face. Respect the sky and still love the earth. Accompanied by resentful insects, whispering in the wilderness. The most popular. I dream of floating lanterns alone, singing and throwing poles continuously. ○The partridges are singing about old things in the south of the Yangtze River, counting on Qiao Feng’s family background, and people are relaxing outside. In the thirty-year period of Wu Qi, He Tianchang occupied the high cold. In the chaotic night of the countryside, there are flying geese flying across the mountains. Near the west wind, when the sorrow is doubled, the poet will never return.
The red cold silk basin, the dry ink and colorful posts, who will remind you when the years are gone. Every inch of spring is covered with cold ashes. I just believe that the east wind is lazy tonight. Negative cold chants, residual drunken feelings. Ask Guan Shan. The plum blossoms in the flute have been blown open several times. ○The sound of the neighbor's drum is indistinguishable, and it wakes up the hazy pavilion and the residual dreams. The shadows of horses and the sound of chickens, the news from the horizon is still guessing. The empty hall is filled with ice and snow, fearing that it will be out of date and spring will not return.The most boring thing is to take Wu Shuang and drink deeply.
Short moss flying silk, long waves wrinkled, city curtains river willows competing for green. When you are drinking and drinking, you are still like a flag pavilion when buying spring. The colorful flags remember the flower's birthday, and the green windows reflect the mood of the children. All arrangements were made, the trusses were painted with Wu's strings, and the pavilions were made with Qin's zheng. ○The old man does not want to be cared for, but to mourn and get drunk for the rest of his life. There is no owner of the east wind, and the labor and complaints are silent. There are a few hazy clusters of snow on the east side of the mountain. This year, we can see the Qingming Festival again. Afraid of meeting again, She Yan returns and complains about Piao Ling.
Blowing the sword to drive away sorrow, waving a cup to persuade the shadows, the lake is full of warmth and tenderness. As soon as the waves are cleared, the guests come and take time to relax. The next year, I had a misty dream in the sky, next to the clear clock, I endured the news. The sleeves are scented with fragrance, carried to the empty hall, and the traces of poems are ironed. ○ Covering the door is not idle smoke and water, it is the most bitter to wash away the autumn heart, but also to support the spring. The small pavilion is brightly lit, and the lonely moon is looking for someone late at night. Holding a hibiscus flower in your hand, you can remember the success of your eyes. Then I followed you, held Huang Hua in my arms, and guarded my solitary root.
Medicine wraps up care, plum branches iron the eyes, and time changes the world. The harvest is blurred, and the red flowers are forgotten. Wind and rain often come together on the bed, and the cold chants and leisurely drunkenness disappear. Don't even mention it anymore. The rooster crows and the torch flies. ○The Ming Dynasty was a shocking seventy. The two old houses had a long credit in the Old Testament. Drunk and leaning on Tusu, I would rather know the liver and lungs. The fighting was full of sorrow and trouble, and he had no words for Alien. But because of Yi, the Beidou railing is staring at Beijing.
[Ten Slow Songs of Magnolia]
In the lush greenery of Yecheng Mountain, there are several shades and white gates. The walls are covered with flowers, which have been replaced easily, and the monuments are old and carved with moss. Far away. Dang Qingxi hates, there are vicissitudes of life, still makes the soul ecstasy. Jiang Hong is still in his eyes, and cranes are flying in the sky. ○ Rock pepper, the Zen words are desolate, and there are no sentences to express the immortality. Counting the merits of resisting sparseness, dividing notes and companions, one case is fluttering. Tonight, I am sober and the moon is setting, I am afraid that the west wind will blow the snow on my hair. Roll up a letter of green ink, and pay all the sadness to the Southern Dynasty.
asked Donglan Shouxue, if it still disappears, when will it be Qingming? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown where it belongs, the moss is greener and the flowers are upside down. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○In many lives, there will be guests who cherish the fragrance alliance and worry about the inscriptions of acne flowers. Despite all the tides and winds, the Japanese were forced to fall, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
Give Minghu a song to recognize the trees, the year of Zhongxing. Count the small team on the outskirts, the barrier of the Central Plains, and have nothing to do. Decaying fence. At the old singing place, I asked Yueming and Yuanhe when they would return. The dream of the battleship is broken by the east wind, and the makeup of the dowry is cold. ○Unprovoked, the gold and greenery embrace the sandalwood music, abruptly interrupting this lake and mountain. Think of Wu Feng and stand on horseback, lotus flowers and osmanthus seeds, stop singing in the fields. In Yanyuan, I didn’t buy a fishing rod because I was afraid that fishes, dragons and wind would disturb the gulls’ sleep. Drunk and wiping away the remaining tears in the West City, the shadow of the faded Yang on the temples is still there.
Behind closed doors, spring has not yet awakened, and the warblers are singing again, reporting the fragrant season. In the lonely mood, the crisp flowers are shadows, and the honey torch sings newly. Peep. The frost on the mirror's hair is wisps on the temples, and I bear the burden on my neighbors and present them with ancient plum branches. Lao He wrote a letter through the maple window, waiting for the moss and bamboos to be lost in despair. ○At the end of the world, my sick pillow has not returned yet, and I wake up at dawn. Laughing at Dongfeng’s homeland, red and green, all are deceived by sorrow. Fragmentation, tired writing every year, one year's worth of fragrance is too much to mention. The steps in the middle garden are waiting for care, and the curtains are small and wet in spring.
Listening to Ku Tong's words, I know your hatred, ten years later. There are many tears and flowers, and I am lost in Yan Lao. Spring has been gone for a long time. Destroy each other. Menghua's hometown, strangely dressed in single clothes, with no way to escape the dust. Jin Se looked at Cheng, who was drunk for a while, with his head turned gray and his eyes lowered. ○ If the difference is bad, Jinguan willow will become silk, and Li Xufei will be banned. Asking how to spend time, the smell of officialdom in the setting sun, the passing of time in the heart? The barbarians, the old crazy and rational, have fallen into the Yin River and the cuckoos are singing outside. Don't go up to Wu Tai and look north, the slanting smoke and chaotic water are depressing.
Lianghua dew falls in the evening, light autumn is here, and the water is west of the fence. Looking at the clear waves on the temples, sparse people and green walls, I am used to being lonely. More disabled. Sleeping late and sick, there are mourning crickets and diyans in front of me. The anxiety of being alone is getting worse, and old friends are paying new bills to Wu Jian. ○Unexpectedly, painting a fan of green mountains invites dreams to fade away. The traces of Nai Qiuhong are easy to catch, but it is difficult to climb Jinliu. When I am sad, I take care of myself with the light behind my back. I cannot tolerate the sound of rain in my middle age. Don't forget that it's late in Cangjiang, and the dust can't reach the gull's side.
Ma Cheng was in trouble, but with tears in her eyes, she asked Xiling. Believe that there are beautiful lakes and mountains, but boring bottles and bowls, and tired eyes cannot be green. wandering. Shuilou's writing requires a boat and a series of feelings in his later years. Just before leaving the tomb, the old man is really riding a whale. ○ Yao Qiong, I asked Xuanting where to go, but the nine debates were in vain. Calculate the floating and disappearing, resist the sparseness of fame and fortune, and pass on the sutras of thoughts. In the dark, whispers are whispered on the night stage, and the wind blows in the throat and the flute is silent. Tears in the eyes and dust in the paper are ignored. Who can share his life in the auditorium?
Washing Meghan off her face, changing years, with the sound of rain.Look at the flowers in the honey torch, the silk dish is more beautiful, and the curtain is more fragrant. Loudong. The crows haven't risen yet, the singing dust is dark, and the curtains are still trembling. The chants and the jade paper are mixed together, and I am still wandering around Jinqi. ○Happy. Half-cold green dragon. Buy Wu Peng for trouble. The smiling yellow tangerine has not been broken yet, the make-up is washed clean, and the east wind is used to the humidity. When we meet again, behind the mirror screen and in the dream, I ask when the sleeves of the palace will turn red in the cold weather. The flowing clouds are moving with both hands, and the old love is annoying Qiong Zhong.
Next to the osmanthus trees in Canglang, written with sincerity, this chapter is about a small mountain. Laughing at the lotus clothes made by Chu, why is Wu enjoying the festival? Feixian. Suyun is in the place, and the hands (left and right) and south bucket are scattered in the world. There is no need to be attracted by the flowing clouds, but the beauty remains in the mirror. ○Youzen. Cooking tea and cigarettes on the couch, hair on hair from a few years ago. Cherish this meaning, the worries sink into the land, and the lonely dreams climb to the sky. On the side of the gull, keep the stability in the later period, and manage the double fiber to pass the wild gull. If you are better than me, I will look for you. There should be someone outside the world.
I asked about the thin snow in Donglan. It is still gone. How about Qingming Festival? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown attack point, more green moss, upside down and borrowed red flowers. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○Many births. Visitors cherish Xiangmeng. The flower inscription of "Chou". Gradually, all the winds were exhausted, and the Japanese were forced to support them, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
[Five Poems of Manjianghong]
If you don’t believe in the immortal poet, to this day, there is no place to bury your sorrow. Carrying it in your hand, you can keep the four seals of health, and you can sleep alone in Huangge. It's so dirty that I've been rewarded by the dust, and I haven't changed to a leisurely life. If you are about to leave, why would you care if you go through the tomb? Chang'an City. ○Literal impairment and difficulty with vertebrae. Distribution and distribution, water flowing eastward. It's not as good as cooking Shanhu. Who is my friend at the end of my stay? I will end up playing in seclusion. Asking about the sacred mountain, the wind often leads the boat back to the boat, so what's going on?
put his staff down and asked who it was, Gao Xia Zhenyi. Outside the dust, there are sleeve handles on floating hills and shoulders on Hongya cliffs. Paper tubes from across the county are delivered every day, and clouds emerge from the mountain barrier. The letter liver and intestines are like two poets in the snow, sharing the same breath. ○ Xunyang Guo, incense burner color. Remember once hanging, west wind seat. In an old life, all I owe is the pair of clogs. Whoever is born in a boat will be a pure companion; when he enters the mountain, he will be a stranger the next day. The rest of the year is cold, the wind and snow dream of Kuangjun, and the short position is white.
The gate faces Qingshan and is called Jiuyin and Donggao Pavilion. There are waves of red peach blossoms and plum blossoms on the shore. A small building is the best place to hide the case, and the Oubo coupon has not been settled for ten years. Asked when, the effect of the essay is hidden, and the gentleman is lazy. ○My chest is lumpy and I feel sad and sleepy. After grinding and grinding, there are thousands of volumes of books. Repairing the rafters with laughter, sending sea swallows in the air every year. A long-term strategy is not like drinking from the river, short songs are like resting and Nanshan gangue. I like to go to the class, but I don't take it easy when I am young. I am late in Cangjiang.
The ancients are accumulated and the sky is empty. Who can ask, it is auspicious and golden auspicious weapon. The charm is right, it is judged to be suspended and half blocked, and the earth flowers are condensed. Sanshou Xisi's Ode to Work, a new interpretation of Chinese characters. Accompanying the ship, Mi's boat floats on the Cangjiang River under the rainbow moon. ○Good at writing and good at writing, but secretly. The past is vague, and the golden legend is written down. When asked about sinking, how long will Jiuding people be free? Small buildings all contain the beauty of mountains and rivers, and new poems must have the aura of clouds and thunder. It was late at night, and when I came back from Changle's dream, I burst into tears.
There is no shade in the big tree, it is not like the clouds, and there are many fragrant carvings resting. Facing each other, the wind and rain of spiritual flags are fierce today. The ancient heart is as solid as iron stone, no one can plant it with time. On the branches facing south, there should be old cuckoos singing, which is very sad. ○Treacherous juniper is cast, and injustice is settled. The Orchid is destroyed, and Qiu Qiu is destroyed. Ask Qiao Ke, how often do you see Jin Ou round and missing? The red bird must be weeping in the air, and the green moss may be stained with Chang Hong's blood. The mountains are empty, jade bones are cold and holly green, and the mausoleum is sad.
[Four Songs of Huanxi Sha]
In the song, the soul of spring cannot be summoned, the rain is coming from the flute on the Hengtang, and the wet smoke is cold on the west bridge of Liuyi. ○One water will wipe out the old covenant, and the chaotic peaks will be like smiles and manage the new beauty. This year, I will be free to stop the wooden railings.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like ocher and water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the clouds are returned when the bun on the window mountain is lifted; the place where I walk alone is not desolate and cold.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
[Nanpu]
Nanpu Yu pattern is born, it is the night, the rain marks are dyed by the new daisy. A warm and warm green, the road to the end of the world, Jiang Lang's secret soul is everywhere. It hurts the spring deliberately, the old love is shy and the learning is shallow. The brocade scales are about to be sent, but if there is no good dream, the heart will be broken, and the flowers will flow eastwards. ○We gathered together several times to see the riverbanks, and we watched the Mandarin ducks and swallows stay in the Qiang. The most miserable person is wearing a gauze, crying and making up, but there are thousands of teardrops. Tongci is slightly supportive, and Jinglan is gone. What's the matter with the little wind? The furrowed brows remain the same, and the boat is far away.
[Cuilouyin]
The beads are covered with clouds, Qiongtai is decorated with pink, and the east wind is full of reds. The years are changing with surprise and darkness, and the corners of the curtain are filled with fragrance. Tassel spring bottom. There are tired feathers nestling in and crowing, and idle bees staying asleep. Whoever cooks and smokes at night will look more haggard than anyone else. ○It seems to be remembered. Jialu Qinzun, who is familiar with Yu Panhanbi, has learned a strange calligraphy. There are several round clusters of light shade, still adorning the flowers in the east. The plains are desolate, clouds are scattered, and the wind is blowing. Excuse me for being drunk, Xu Lang. Today, the paper is filled with chaos and sorrow.
[Three Songs of Danfeng]
The garden is like embroidery, the rain wets the red flags, and the dust floats in the fragrant pavilion. The dusk is independent, and the curtain of spring is still beautiful. They are clearly a handsome couple, but in an instant they are arrogant. The alliance between the mirror and the phoenix is cold, and the clothes and makeup are thin. The green bird is sending messages, and the silver hook is carefully recognized, and the tears are flowing through the corners of the paper. ○ From now on, don’t worry about your intestines. When you remove your soul, you will always be afraid of the evil waves. The night is dark and the sky is cold, all the lead is washed away, and the eyebrows are green. The old love has already faded away without being told. Red candles and jade hairpins are easy to break, but regrets can be grasped again. In Ying'e's dream, Zhi Shi was thinking about it.
Sitting in a secluded room with a bed, a spring window with grass, and a bright candlelight. The pearl ship arrives, and the beetle dust is lightly unrolled. In Yuanhe's era, Yixi's titles were everywhere, and there were bookstores everywhere, which could eliminate the mausoleum valley. Passing by, the clouds and smoke spread across the province, arousing the Ci Immortal, and a smile accompanied the loneliness. ○According to the music flute, the world changes, the old apple is broken, the green is desolate and the fragrance is left. The creeping grass is full of wind, and the very fragrant pepper is sparse with rain, so that everything can continue. There is a touch of cold green of Benfeng beside the ancient and modern. Seeing off Feihong at night, I lean on the railing in despair. Ancient Yun hides, treasures the blessing of words.
Jun admires the plump frost flowers, and the rhyme is like a solitary string, like a book guest in autumn. Orchid and Tsuen are full of flowers, so it should be called the southern country of love. The song changes the temples, the old man's thoughts wander and ask, the orioles spend time in adversity, and the radish flowers attract people. In the sentence about leisurely life, I can't bear to hurt the spring, but when the spring is gone, I will leave tears stained with my guess. ○I send you to look at the end of the world in despair, the dusk clouds suddenly merge into endless blue. The sleeves are full of jade flowers, the rooster crows in the wind and rain, and the heart is full of pity. The Cangzhou period is here, and the setting moon shines on the beams. The king of creeping grass has a sense of life experience, and he bows his head white. When will I hold my arm and meet the dream of the river?
[Mysterious Yin]
Who and Soul-Calling Xianggao Road. Peilan Yingzhu is scattered. The horses and horses are raised in the old place where the squatters were killed. I miss you, but I am suspicious of you and have no chance to meet you. The meaning of the old words in the hanging garden is sad and sad. The feeling of spiritual practice day and night is so helpless. ○ Borrow the fragrance of Hui Yao, spin it and inject it with pepper pulp. The spring is pouring out again, and the fragrant clouds are spitting out. White neon baby fu, ancient and modern hatred, temporary complaints. Looking at the repair door, I wake up alone, but I stand still. The river is dark and the night is miserable. The soul is back, the wind and rain are blowing.
[Eleven Poems of Niannujiao]
When I wake up from a dream of picking incense, I am a person from Shejiang River, not a singing couple in my youth. The mandarin ducks in the escort team are looking at each other, and there are countless flowers in a mess. There is a lot of wind in Jinxu, and the Zhufang is very cool, and it rains continuously. There is so much hatred in the south of the Yangtze River, so the old immortal will stop singing sad lines. ○In the evening, there is a fight across the bank, and the new songs of the field are broken, and the sound of the flute is sent away. One scene makes people famous, who cares? It is miserable to enter the mist of the flute boat. Luo Shan is cold, Zhu Lan is haggard and tired, so he has to move to another house. The remaining cicadas are rogue, and the setting sun has cut off their return path.
The green pines and the cold sun are so unforgettable that the ruthless spring beauty cannot be removed. Strength and scenery, wherever they circulate, are still clear and cold. On the garrison drum tower platform, the Buddha's fragrance is dusty, and the orioles are recognized for the first time in three or two. The sound of the piano is broken, and the heartbroken flowers are left outside. ○At the end of the day, who is calling for the souls? The ghosts of Xuluo Mountain mourn and chant in the sky. All of them are Zhenyuan, and they are grateful to the court officials. It is a pity that the white heads are gone together. It's cold in the old days, and the new pavilion sheds tears at sunset, filling the mountains with sun flutes. What happened to the vicissitudes of life? The smoke and chime in the forest are silent for the first time.
reveals that the scholar is old and has a good pool and a common painting meaning wandering. The jasper passes through Tianjin, and tourists dream of passing by, sharing the rain-heated cigarette holders. After writing thousands of lyrics and sharpening the sword for ten years, I am determined to return to farming. Will the small building be added? The white head is still firmly in place. ○Rare two pictures of Goose River, a boat with a rainbow coming under the moon, drinking in a piping tube. Sitting and recalling peace, drinking wine and chanting things, showing the clear curtain to the cool hall. The Lingbao kitchen is empty, the Fengcheng sword is combined here, and the Qiu Valley in the middle is in the middle. Qian Lang's sentence is good, so you must fill in the corners of the paper.
Qiao Fengxi Pavilion has Wu Ou and separate seats for leisure and fun. Extinguish the candle and bring it with you, under the cool moonlight, to deal with the tea melon love words. After playing the flute, the queen returns, the curtain is opened and the fireflies come in. A fan of wind is priceless. The rare stars appear and appear, and the thin clouds are picturesque. ○Forget about the autumn season in the sky, the red walls and green walls are hidden, and the wheel is hidden. Regardless of my merits and demerits, I will do my best to win a cool night. The leisurely feelings of the needles, the beautiful dreams of the old flowers, and the careless description. Gao Wu shakes the dew, and fairy feathers come down from the distant sky.
Half of the bed is still covered with snow, there are idle gulls, and a couple who is surprised to discuss the spring. The wild plum blossoms are still blooming in the cold weather, but the fragrance of valerian leaves is countless. The winding bank has continuous radials, the short pavilion is full of wine, and the wind and rain are busy and leisurely. The sky is full of smoke, and I look through the window at dawn to read the title sentence. ○In the morning and evening, the dust in front of Huangge, the green and old promises of dreams, go with the wild waves. Swallowing the Tiger Mountain, the flute beside the bridge also plays incense at the other side of the lake.The qiongrui is climbing again, the green birds are like calling, and the old pair (left mountain and right wave) live. The light clouds are boundless, and the falling red rests on the sail road.
originated from Shu studies. I asked Lu Jin who asked the old man from Heshan. There are huge collections of wines, carved by Tianshui, and the treasures in the art garden exceed the beauty of Qiongjiu. Three baskets of clouds are lost, one basket is allowed to be borrowed, and the good tree is worthless. Yuanting oil element dyes the shirt sleeves with antique fragrance. ○The seventeen posthumous chapters of the past events are divided into three main points, and they have been written and circulated for a long time. It is said that it is like a fragrant pepper, scheduled for daily classes, and gathered ginger sprouts for generations. Jin Xie holds the book, Yaohua deputy Mo Cao, and the coupon is famous for Shanshou. The sun rises when the sun rises, and Zong Shou falls during the passing period.
Even in old age, we are still the same flesh and blood, fighting to control life. Children are created by nature, teased in vain, and find their home as time goes by. The old floor has three rafters, two hectares of fertile farmland, and the Qing Xiangqu lies high. Weaving cunts in the deserted bay, old immortals come to accompany you alone. ○Who said that tired feathers are nesting in their nests, the dust is startling and the sea is mourning, and Ying's songs continue. Difficulties arise in all directions, but they are all the same, and the pine and chrysanthemums in the countryside are cut off. The green mountains of my homeland, the white hair of Cangzhou, and the dendrobium trees in my dreams. In what year, I was afraid of the base, so I cherished my best wishes.
Good doctor and good appearance, remember the country's sages, and the famous theory will be related to each other for thousands of years. The whole body of benevolence and art is all virtue, and it depends on the harmony of the family. There are red apricot trees, white flowers and calyxes, and spring jade. After three words of kindness, Zeng Xiaoqin was exposed in the pond. ○The couple has a flat head of seventy years old, surrounded by Guifang, kneeling on the platform and offering blessings. He was talented in the Tang Dynasty, promoted the Yuji season, and composed the song of Henan Fei. Thousands of joys, brocade flowers clustered in clusters, plans to add houses. With two supporting dove sticks, the small garden is filled with fresh green in spring.
In the flat root palace, I feel regretful about the ancient dust and the things that have been broken for three thousand years. The trees are covered with smoke, the new paintings are in the book, and the rock walls of Qinqi are covered with green. The crane is gone and the cloud is alone, the Qiu is flying to the cold moon, and the snow is shining on Wu Zhen. What a heroic figure Dongyang Dabi is. ○In order to ask about the world, Qian You, pondering around the tree, who dares to be the first. If you want to see the clothes, Pan Bian wins, but Ke Qianzhi becomes extinct. The past and present are romantic, what is the literary talent of painting, and there is no trace of sudden disputes. Familiar with the theory of painting, I trust you with eyes like the moon.
Bai because of the cold society, the gloomy branches and the knotted cliffs are still in the past dream. The earth is thick and the sky is high, there is no place to stay, so I come to make offerings in the leisure hall. The frosty appearance of Otani, the jewelry of Hiraizumi, the great quality of Liangdong. Du Ling sighed, it has been very difficult to use since ancient times. ○Cherish the separation of this old man. The roots are close to each other, just like the phoenix nesting in the nest. In the fourth year of Ke Ye's reign, he never changed and asked for the emperor's favor. Five grains of pine and beetles, twins of Meg's age, we share the late cold, the whole hall is full of color, and there is a pen in Heyang.
Rui Shulang Jian, tracing the high ground, excellence and winning Liu. Four episodes of Feihong are not enough to count. The Art Garden alone has won the true award. The tripod has feet and a chi plate, the hairpin head and the phoenix stand, and the wonderful traces are imitated by ice. Every pearl, every word, will enter the net of pearls. ○On that day, I paid a visit to Jin Gaoqi, and wrote a detailed appraisal of the iron book, and distinguished all the traps and elephants in the sky. The ancient river is idle, but seeking truth is nothing like a romantic and grand prize. Illuminating the eyes with sesame seeds and mud, I am startled by the writings in the sea, everything is intact, the sound of pine trees and the moonlight are especially bright and clear for you.
[Four Songs of Huanjing Music]
The cicadas are in a mess, and it is reasonable to feel sad at night like a careless hair. Sitting under the lamp window without wine, but I feel that I am separated from the courtyard and singing songs is wasted. Look across the vast sky. The mirror in the west building is about Yuxiang. Awakening from old dreams, scraps and drips, Jiangnan’s remaining tears. ○ Remember the bottom of Pingshan Mountain. There are double photos of flowers, and the orchids are leaning against each other for a while, the smell of farewell. Even if the end of the world says the date of return, he will always be alone with his beautiful face and peach plums. I feel sad every year, I still use my wings to peek into the curtain, the cool fireflies are in the water. Even in the belly of Pisces, Jiang Bo does not care about melancholy.
Sai Hong is close, deliberately snuggling in the sand to spend the moon and make the sound of autumn. At dusk, I feel heavy with sadness. I spin my iron horse and feel sad and choked on the eaves. Sitting alone with tears splashing, the shadows of candles and candlesticks stand on the back of the mountain. Tiredness and sleep diminish, complaints arise in the distant night, and the clothes are new and cold. ○Listen to the pot lotus. In the remaining paintings of Meng Cangbo, the formation of wind crows is as black as dust, and their wings are not straightened. The sound of horns drawn in the rivers and lakes echoed in secret, the cool rain and mist were dim. It makes me sad because there are few people playing the flute and I wake up with the sunset. Pulse and pulse peek into the hair, clear frost flies onto the bright mirror.
The soul-breaking thing can make me feel melancholy when I am tired of writing and writing. The temples are ashamed of the dust mirror, the wax torch is gray with tears, who plays the flute and sings. On the Echi Pond, there are long strips with moon and smoke. Qian's plain hands help the drunk to call for help, and the soft waves of the oars. ○Stand and look at the tall building. There are wild flowers on the road, flying orioles have no hesitation to sing, and the grass is long. The east wind changes to the green forest pavilion, dark pear clouds and dreams come and go. Fei pining is the sound of the rain strings and the bright clouds. The moon is full of resentment in the west, peeking into the weeping tent of last night.
Tired of embracing, reading through the setting sun and looking for microwave words. Let the incense fall and the swallows fall in love, and the red horse step on the horse, and there is no basis for keeping silent. Asking about flowers in Jiangdu makes you shed tears in the spring and rain. With all kinds of emotions, singing at night will make you drunk at dawn, and your fragrance will be perfect. ○Old ecstasy. There are thousands of treasures around, but now the pen is full of dust, and the strings are bitter. I pondered and patted the railings, wandering in the clouds and thinking like this. Sitting in Cangzhou, you can earn a lot of money and travel with articles. Autumn is bleak in the middle of the year, but Lan Cheng has a rich life experience.
[Fengchiyin]
Buqiu Qiongfei, in the old Lingbo place, the valerian shadow is shallow and the text is rippled. Remember that the beautiful woman chewed it at night, moisturizing the scented kiss, cooling and softening the skin. Enjoy the wisdom, the small Ou round mirror is the time of year. The east wind relieves the enemy, and the orchid boat urges the ship to sail, and there is no plan to stay in Iraq. ○The joy and despair are getting colder than water. I take advantage of the window to dry my inkstone and write to express my love. The material is pouring by the Zhi River, the green scales are just coming up, and the brocade characters are still late. A film of spring sorrow, broken red and flowing tears. It has not been removed, but the heart is dizzy and the jade saliva is silky.
[Three Poems of Bu Suanzi]
Cuiyu cries to her heart's content, who can be jealous of Qianxiu. The floating dusk is dark and fragrant, and the toad is not allowed to spend it. ○Wu Yuanyu's twin bodies fly along Yaotai Road. Let me ask the old painter from Qiantang who is the flute player.
Whoever earns the little red will let go of the poplar branches. Qingxiaoqiangdong is always unknown, what a waste of words. ○I know how to be carefree, regardless of wind or rain. It's like a golden fairy with empty hands and eyes dancing in the sky.
Thousand pieces of Wu flowers, followed by Ye Ying's words. When I sleep, there is a flicker of smoke in the bright window, and in my dream, there is the sound of rain in the corridor. ○When I am worried and leaning on the railing, I sing to the couple who are sitting at the wine table. I regret that I look back and forth, my eyes wet with tears.
[No. 1 in Dizhou]
The dust is light and dusty, the dust is messy, and the eyebrows are small when the banquet is held. The dense threads are connected, the clear words are covered with fans, and the Qin sky is misty and misty. There is a dark moon on the fan horse screen, peeking at people and taking photos secretly. The deep alliance between the jade beams and the shallow throwing of money will make you grow old happily. ○89 Jingwu Yishushao. Definitely lose and control the female's song. The curtain of love is new, the dream of pearl fields is far away, and they suddenly return to the embrace of sorrow. Before messing with the flowers, I shed tears. I stopped at the cup and looked at each other with a smile. Whoever beats the mandarin ducks, the brocade pond is empty and sleeps alone until dawn.
[Three Songs of Clouds Crossing the River]
Xin Hanluo was awakened, the curtains were covered with heavy rain, and a wild goose fell into the round sand. Waking up from the dream and saying goodbye to each other in tears, the petrels are nesting deep in the sky, jealously entering Mochou's home. The mirror is filled with red cries, and I quietly cherish my beauty. Thousands of silk threads, white willows, are not called Tibetan crows. ○ Sighing in the sky, a solitary flying bluebird leads the Yellow Cong, and the wave falls eastward. I gazed at Penglai in the dark dust and the autumn owl wearing yarn. Going back to the river to complain about the south of the Yangtze River, breaking the dark frost in the Cangjia. I was so melancholy that I asked about the flowers when I returned.
The river breeze is lingering on the night of wine, and the soft tide is half-falling, carrying dreams around the sails. When the lights are off, the spring is still shallow, the spring flowers are splashing with tears, and it is cold about the northern plum blossoms. After jumping up and down, we gradually came to appreciate the desolate and snowy south of the Yangtze River. The chanting is low, who is the white-headed couple? There is a decadent toad sitting in the photo. ○Essential, poems and poems written in times of mourning, sent to Lao Guanhe, stirring up all kinds of emotions. Hugh Geng will then fence the smoke willows, how can he pay for them. In the Ming Dynasty, Qinhuai's green temples were illuminated, and I was afraid of the rain, dim wind, and melancholy. The words on the wrong road made the blue shirt wet when we met again.
The spring clothes are noisy and plain, leaning against the building with tired eyelashes, and the wild geese are heading south. The flowers in the old Beijing are less busy, there is no reason to go and live, and I sit and read the willow green. It urges people to complain, and cries until the moon is behind them until there is no sound. Where to find it? Baitou Cuisine, a reunion of love after a new year. ○The condensation disappears, the stove smoke is attached, the medicine lingers, and the separation is uncertain. Hun has not forgotten the boat in Yanqiu Lake, talking about the rain on the bed. When our hearts and souls grow old, we must stay together, and we will spend our whole life enjoying the cold wine. Singing and looking forward to the pain, we will cherish our loneliness together in the end.
[Eighteen Poems of Huanxi Shazai]
The orang-colored screen is different from the twelve mountains, and there are two sad Luan in the mirror. Turn off the lights and wait for the dream to return. ○The pillow is covered with fragrant flowers, and the bed is filled with the gurgling autumn waves of jade. Xin Liang can't get enough of Lang Bian.
The tea has passed and the orchid has not yet been refined. The butterflies are worried and the bees are laughing for no reason. Someone else has just finished fixing the fence. ○ There are tears in the towel when I sing the Qing Dynasty, and I am frightened by the spring short sleeves. I had known that it would be difficult to save Fangjie.
Whoever sets up a field to try out the horseshoe, the Chunli team will temporarily support him. Wild smoke fans on Hengzhigang Road. ○The love in the West Sea adds to the leakage forever, but the East Wind is unable to manage everything. When we meet, we sing the white bronze song.
Drinking every day is nothing but raising a glass, smiling happily to wake up the heart. What's the matter with fan Chen and light clothes? ○Otherwise, the clouds and mountains hate to enter the painting, and the ducks and ducks walking together gradually become inorganic. Stepping in the wind is the true return.
Wearing wine and a single shirt, wearing a pair of glasses, Wu Bo has been full of hatred for ten years. When autumn comes, it is easy to sing a sad song when you are alone. ○The lyrics are thin when the moon is full of people, and there are many tearpipes at Jiangguan Pass. Han Ling was speechless and helpless.
The writing style is based on the slight flow of powder, and the book readers in the world are bitterly chanting the autumn. The small note conveys hatred and makeup. ○The moon shines brightly on the new mirror, and the lanterns look like ancient hairpins. Fu Ding is old and has to change his job.
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like water and paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The land is not deserted and cold when I travel alone.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow will always be unknown. Who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal to me.
Dreaming about the fourteenth journey of the Yanjiang River, the silk embankments and willows on the temples are full of flowers, and the fragrance of the year is ruthless with the water. ○ When the wine falls, the plum blossoms in the east wind will swirl, the sails will be greeted by fine swift swallows, and the sorrow of spring will naturally arise in writing.
explains that sadness is just a small frown, and it is clear that resentment is in the song, and there are original Ruizhu people in the world. ○ The wonderful dance bends down and turns over the brocade on the ground. She whispers and sheds tears to Liang Chen. The clothes are full of clouds from the old mountains.
Smallpox may not reach me. It is a song that occupies someone's arms, and the red and green curtains wander around. ○ Turn over the sacred interpretation of Jie Ku Zen, mourn the time and make the poet shed tears, it doesn’t matter about Chu Taiyun in the dream.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
Autumn is coming again. In ten years, the city is half covered with wormwood, and the eyes are wide open. ○ When the bones are out, it feels like a jade in the mountains. When the waist is bent, it is like dancing on the willow poles. Di flowers throw snow and dot the cup.
Why does the stream also have the surname Xi? It is more suitable to wear light makeup and heavy makeup. There are several piles of mangroves weighing down the reeds. ○The good years require wine, but the decadent style and gull period mean that although the West Lake is good, there is no need to mention it.
A team of maidens guides the oars, recruiting and extracting flowers and flowers every time, and a niche is filled with incense and thatched cottage. ○ Tai Xisheng’s family has no record. Since I am a Buddhist monk, I am here to serve as a package monk.
The dragon elephant is sold and sinks several pestle bells, the heavens have no way to ask the green peak, the solemn wheel and the painter. ○The desolate sky and water are still green, the ashes of calamity and birth and death are pitifully red, and the fragrance of flowers spreads everywhere.
Strider picked fresh slices of jade words, spring waves melted and released the pond, prolonging the life of the beautiful people. ○The good prophecy is that the turtle in the old stream looks to the left, the crane in the new song of longevity flies south, and the mandarin ducks are in a good mood.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
[Nearly seven good things]
The short hair is gradually fading, and the bully is weak. The power and scenery are flowing, but there is no news about yellow flowers. ○ Walking around the pond is timid because of the late cold, and it is forbidden to drink a small amount of wine. The Cangshan Mountains are speechless. Whose autumn colors are there?
Sleeping in the rain and mangling in autumn, I once went to the forest for hunting. Who begs for the clear dew from the golden stem, which heals the heart of the piano and quenches thirst. ○We have mourned each other for several generations, and the servant girls in high-rise buildings are extremely sad. Being willing to accompany a group of barbarians is better than having two clear pagodas.
Lake Qi Yu Yi Jin, step into Baofang Linyue. I can endure the coldness of the mountain pavilion and the spring, and my heart and intestines are like snow. ○Ten miles out of the mountain, how long does it take to hear the sound of crickets? It is safe and secure everywhere, and it is adjacent to Zhongfa in the south.
The immortal of Guanghan is left behind, and a toad household is opened in the fragrant world. A case of Hengsha's calamity change is more ancient than the moon. ○The body is not hindered by the yellow cloth, the ground is broken by the sky cloth, the eaves are covered with all the money, and the basket is used for the dragon and the catty ax.
Koujiaofa sings loudly, who reads Taoism at the same time. Don't make crazy plans to envy the fish, treat the stream as bright as jade. ○The rivers and lakes are still full of people who have not returned, and the dead sheep laugh at the valley. In the morning and evening, I go to the foot of Xinjiang Mountain to buy spring raincoats and yellow calves.
The candle flowers in the floating mat are cool, and the wind is blowing in the water outside the fence. After the flute was over, he was suddenly urged to go back, feeling a great deal of pity. ○I remember Xu Yunying a hundred times, and I can cook it straight. There is no such thing as a banquet, because the red goose will not be eaten.
is at ease in the ice, and the pen is like a dragon. In the Golden Butterfly Pavilion, there is a crazy uncle from the Chen family. ○In the past twenty years, I have been full of talents, and my dragon-carving hand has shrunk. If this matter comes to an end, we will go to Lugo to pursue him.
[Twenty-eight poems with subtracted characters of Magnolia Flower]
There is no solution to the worries, the bottom line is that the wine debts last year after year. I don’t know how deep my sorrow is, but my heart is on the silver screen every night in my dreams. ○The sky is full of frost, and I can see the autumn mountains shaking away. If you want to return to the boat, you will ride Feihong to visit Jiuzhou.
has a good conversation, but only asks for wine from a silver bottle. The arms are wrapped around the waist, and the body is in a state of extreme health. ○When the dim light illuminates the scene, why do ghosts and monsters need to ask about their shadows frequently? Who is right and who is wrong will never return without leaving the green hills.
The Huai River flows like Dai, and Wu Pengyun carries it all in June. The clothes were hurriedly untied, and the fire of war was shining across the sky to the east of the sea. ○An official is dying, so I wrote seven pages of letters to him. Fengyi was ashamed of Fan Juqing in Shanyang throughout his life.
shed the rules of your sentences, and pass through the alleys from poor days to dusk. On the frosty moon, I walked up to Fanlou to sell a restaurant. ○Wandering in the bamboo forest, write down the eight-point move Amai. After the dawn, the star is lonely, leaving no inkstone to be passed down to the family.
With a green beard and a tree-like chin, I have been a quiet man for thirty years. The rest is in Jingguan, and the mountains are slovenly with thick clouds and sneers. ○The desolate pavilion is picking up leaves, and just a few strokes of pen are asking for rice stickers. Instead of going back to sail, it ended up being a fate of porridge and rice in Beijing.
The diseased bones are separated, and one sacrifice can lead to liberation. The broken temple returns and the soul returns every night. Ji Mu's move. ○Moss flowers and couches, life candles discuss the heart and always see the postscript. Where to dip your towel and fight with wine at Beiguo Gate of Qingshan Mountain? Do you know about
Mengou? He is a fisherman in rivers and lakes. I don’t dream of Huangliang, I am lying in bed with the autumn waves rolling over the ground. ○Suspicious things happened in the Chu Palace, and the sky and the earth were filled with tears of snow. Who ordered Wu Yang? He was sent to the wilderness at midnight.
Penglai was relegated, and whoever brought him back would return to his official post. I was so sad that I was surprised to see the huge gully boat hidden in the sky. ○ It’s not your intention to look at each other as a ghost and to correct your worries.The spiritual principles are endless, and the sixteen views are recorded while sitting high.
Traveling in the sea, watching the flying geese rising. The west wind blows from the sick bone, and a night of frost destroys the mirror. ○How can one redeem one's body? I am tired of crying for three days. The grass in the pond has dried up in spring, and there are no dreams in the west hall after all the tears.
The sword tip cries slightly, and the sea water stabs the sky and floats with blood. In the courtyard of the miserable moon, who can understand Zhang Xian and accept Guangling? ○In a corner of Fuchun, scattered rock flowers and red birds peck at them. Where does the white head go? In the mountains, no one asks what is right or wrong.
The ruthless Xiangshui River is shaking in the autumn colors. The cold moon returns to the radius, relying on the Qingqin music score to make a big move. ○The righteousness of life makes Jiang Han cry with sorrow. There is snow on the temples and frosty beard, and the chest first closes up to Mount Huashan.
Golden Taigu, a hunting gift with no mercy. The drunk hat is tilted, and I can't bear to look at the nine flowers in Lingjun. ○The jade flute blows in the wind, and its small mat pattern melts like water. You are wearing a green shirt, and there are a few lots of spring onions on the cold night.
Yingying Guangqi, Leiluo Semicircular Three Crosses. I studied in Jiangmen in the old days, and I was just like a man with poor clothes and a soft hat. ○Who said Han Ling, filling up the sea and patching up the sky is useless. A piece of blue cloud contains traces of Lingjun's old tears.
Cangqiu roots are dry, regardless of the changes in the world. Who can tame the dragon's nature? The appearance is like this. ○Hanhao is still angry, so he wanders to the sky. I will make a new picture and wait to visit the fourth plant in Jiashan.
Several pairs of jade needles, the wind blowing from the ground carried the pearls into chaos. Fainting into raw silk, he treasured the gold dowry and paid it to Zuo Jiao. ○Youth colored clothes, a flash of frost destroys the daylily green. The threads of clothes are invading, and I know the cold spring in my heart.
Semi-regular clear shadow, with the fragrance of heaven in it. I left behind my love for Hunan, and left behind a benevolent and admirable legacy. ○ He is good at reading, and Yue Yuewen and Sun can recite Luo. A Hutang is sweet, don't look at wealth in the world.
is a simple text that makes people cry. Thousands of verses turn over the waves, laughing and blowing out the lamp to achieve nirvana. ○Murderous intentions arise from the sky, like apes, cranes, and sandworms. The fragrant hair is sandalwood, and I want to see King Kong emerging from the tip of my pen.
Shen Xiang's ancient hatred, the words create sorrow for heaven and ask questions. Xuan Pu's speech, another generation of depression. ○The lust will not die, the chanting of boats on the beach will change. Wave to Peng Xian, and the sad history is written in the same way.
Thunder Hail Ban Zhan, talk about it for eight hundred years. Distribute sugarcane and dance towards the south. ○The command is uncertain, and the Jikou is difficult to turn back and the scorpion's life is ruined. It's better than the Western Terrace, and the singing of red birds is coming.
Cicada Yan is of Chinese origin, and she is beautiful in all the states of Bingjie. Chang'an is clear and fragrant, and it is wonderful to study the postscript at the end. ○The dark felt wax is a rare combination of Jie and Yin. The memorial tablet for the consultation is in memory of the time when Donghua wrote the staff.
Yunguan Tou Lao, put his arm into the forest and smiled. The hats and clogs are welcomed by the people, and they win the support of the green hills. ○The cigarette smoke is spread, and the poems are like ancient paintings written by gods. When Liao He returns, he talks to the remnant monk about the ashes of calamity.
The two whirling old men put their hands behind their hands and smiled in invitation. The fragrance is faint, and spring is in the poet's walking stick. ○The order is so powerful that the scenery is vaguely beautiful. The spring city with drums and horns is not the sound of jade flutes from tall buildings.
His whole life is full of integrity, and he is the leader of both Wuqiao and Wuqiao scholars. The sky is flying high, and the light is gathered into small words. ○The moon is stained by Wenhua, and a section of blue smoke cannot fly. He can pick up the pen like a god, and he is still interested in making portraits of stones.
The smoke is lingering, and the unexpected desolation and coldness are reflected in the writing. Squinting at the yellow dust, who is the solitary person in the green mountains? ○There are not many huts, and the taste of the whole family is as clear as a swan. Anma spent his whole life working as a rice porridge monk in the south of the Yangtze River.
Holly shed tears, and she still has no regrets after nine deaths. The sun comes down from the sky, living up to the desire to be alone in the green mountains. ○The king is upright and righteous, and the cold waves of the Yi River cannot be blown away. The sunflower in the high pavilion has always looked at each other in a willow hall.
The elixir ladder has ten steps, connected to Wu Pengchi and the power of Jiejue. Resisting sparse criticism and achieving success in the Qing Dynasty. ○The court shirt was taken off, and the ancestral court smiled. Deeply closed at Chaiguan, the breeze will fill the old mountain.
In this world, there will be tears left after old age. The liver, the lungs, the teeth, do not write the flowers of heaven's approval. ○ I am solitary and frank, but my everlasting regret is my clumsy skill in mending the sky. Sitting and caressing Wu Gou, when did Gao Guan visit Kuai Feng?
Jinfeng direct sect. I bow down willingly with my words. The rest is red and yellow. It is close to Yushan Mountain and nearly half a pond. ○The old mountain floating jade. Spend the blessing of words in dreams. When will I return to my tent? And the woodcutter sings in the flute wind.
[Ten Songs of Qingpingle]
The water sinks and freezes, cutting off the dream of Jiangnan. Wearing a golden phoenix in a single quilt every night, not knowing the severity of new worries. ○The wild geese are walking in the west building, and the ground becomes more desolate when I wake up. I don’t blame that farewell, it was just that there was no discussion.
The chaotic clouds are blowing in the air, and all kinds of new wines are scattered. I am as thin as a guest in the Western Mountains outside of my worries, and my eyebrows are trimmed to fight back. ○Speechless and independent moss, Gaocheng draws horns to remind. Pointing to the end of the journey home, the setting sun is still in the palace.
The yellow bees are not drying out, and the plum blossoms are fragrant outside. The broken grains break away the cold and the rustling of gold stirs up the man alone in the moon. ○Every year, I dream about the cold fairy ladder, and the cold dew and millet invade my skin. The mother-of-pearl baskets are sold to tears, and the painting railings have been gone for a long time.
The sidelights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is shaking in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape? ○The rivers and lakes are about to disappear, and the wind is blowing in the helm tower. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
The eyes are tired in the late spring, and it is easy to change before the flowers bloom. The green flowers of calyx come and bloom late, and the poems of leisurely love disappear. ○The sky wind is like a string of beads in the throat, and the mountains and rivers are clearing away sorrow. The family background is full of feathers and robes, but the head of the pool is not as solid as blue.
In the pond of my old home, the hibiscus is old in the mirror. There is no need to sweep up the flying flowers all over the courtyard. After a while, the afterglow has faded. ○In life, we are in love with the end of the world. At this time, we can return to that place. I don’t know that the sky is getting old, but the white gull still knows that the sky will follow.
The dragon gate is hundreds of feet long, and the bright autumn colors are painted on it. The north and south peaks contrast with each other and stand tall against the rising sun. ○ Kaixuan is full of haze, and the soft red can’t reach the end of the clouds. As a layman with a human origin, the lakes and mountains become more and more beautiful.
No matter what the world is, the devil is happy to hear it. The three-character title of Jinshi of the Tang Dynasty was lost in the game of Yanfu. ○One after another, Ai Zi Xiaolang invited Pao Wat to appear. He smiled and asked how the three horns of millet looked like a drunken cup of pu-cup.
Next to the pavilion and marsh, I lean on my stick and feel comfortable and roar. There are new drawings of the sky and the surrounding screen, and several afterimages have been changed. ○Twenty years old dream of Qingdun, lotus flowers are also your kindness. As soon as I feel that the river is empty and the year is late, I will have some leisure time in the mountains.
The remaining flowers and leaves of the calamity are gone, and the beauty of Chu Wan is gone. It can be said that the dew weeps and smokes, and is not subject to the wind and moon. ○The fragrant soul is scattered in the barren mountains, but the roots are related to ancient times. It's a good companion to write the history of my heart, and I will stay in this world forever.
[Buchan Palace]
The moon was full last night and it rained tonight, all guesswork, cloudy and clear without evidence. I can't sleep due to alcoholism, so I draw candles in a cage and write out autumn sentences. ○The red dance in the West Garden fades away in an instant, the material is like water, and it is difficult to stay at the end of the year. Even if the waning autumn is not as good as the spring, why bother to let the faint crows rush away.
[Second Songs of Xi Qiuhua]
Mu Yu Nanlou, the sudden sound brings me sadness. The pillow is miserable, the west wind and the swallows return to urge them to change. At dusk on the side of the word "Yuguan", broken shadows are passing by, and the eyes of the heart are tinted. Year after year. This is Hengyang Jipu, where spring is flowing. ○Old friends are thousands of miles away. It is expected that the dream of Jianghu is stable, regardless of whether it is warm or cold. Reduce the candle and miss the autumn, and the oar will wake you up and break your heart. The sky is full of clouds, don't miss them, and the spring waves will accompany them. Who is used to it, there is a long door, the moon is bright and the lamp is dark.
Embroidering the spring posture, leaning against the east wind seems to be a pity, which hurts the mood. Scattered traces of exposure, drunkenness at night warms the curtain door. The Yintai is so beautiful that it enters the fairy clouds, the illumination is unstable, and the beauty of the city is charming. Sales spring. It's Qin Zheng who swallows indiscriminately and has a new voice. ○What kind of flowers can I send my regrets to? He is still timid in his spare time, but he usually respects you. The short dream flows, the water passes away, the fragrance is sad and bitter. Lovesickness talks about Hua Qing, who is afraid of the deep night and the sleeping soul. Speechless, I patted the railing and looked for sorrowful words.
[Two Songs of Chaozhongcuo]
Pink clouds cross the border and break the clouds. People sit at Bixitou. In the early days, the polygonum is lightly swaying in the wind, and in the decline of the lotus, the red-backed sand gulls are blooming. ○Where in Jiangxiang, the green mountains are painted with fans, and the yellow leaves return to the boat. Naturally, the guest's heart is shaken, and it doesn't care about the high-rise building.
Jiuli is more clumsy than a dove. There is a dodder in old age. I have retained the family law of Zichun, but I don’t know the crown and belt of Kunqiu. ○Under the eastern forest, twenty years of old dreams must come to an end. Throw away all the ten edges of the mountains and fields, and there will be no destiny for the scalpers.
[Five Poems from Xiaochong Mountain]
The plum blossoms are so moist that they cannot take off your clothes. It rained for three days behind closed doors, and there were few orioles in the evening. The east wind turns to fine silk. The red fragrance is gone, the words of carefree and happy spring. ○Happy things will change every year. After seeing the cherries three times, the glow remains. I will report to you when I am free and worried. Flowers float in the water, and hatred flows onto the red gate.
The rain washes the autumn posture against the greenery. The light moth is newly swept out, and it is still late. Xishan is so unfinished. The sand gulls laugh, and the guests are as free as silk. ○It’s not about missing lovesickness. After Chu Lan was shaken, her short book was sparse. Poems about a few people wearing clogs in the west wind. There are wild geese in the sky, and there is no need to mention the chaos.
The small pavilion is cold in the green dampness and yin, and I can’t bear the wine to clear up the turbidity. The wind stirs up the water and the candle branches are broken. When the frightened birds go away, they hear the sound of Bilanggan. ○Tou Laowu Yunguan. The eyes are full of dust and things, and it is difficult to be honest. The end of the world is a plan for Guhuan. In the ruthless month, I will be ill for three times.
The beauty of spring in the southern country comes once again, and the jade and jade joints are opened behind the back, which means it is sad. It's a waste to shed red tears to cherish the early stage. Only Jin Ying knows the root cause of sorrow. ○Unable to protect the branches. The east wind will stop planting again, there will be love and infatuation. For the past few years, my thoughts have been on Gracilaria. He is not weighed, and his head is white and full of lovesickness.
Passers-by can talk about the soldiers every year, covering the villages and blocking the way of people. The flywheel rushes into the dark to test the journey of spring. The returning wind still carries the smell of battle dust. ○The sunset is full of smoke. The wild firefly is three or four o'clock, lighter than the stars. Call Qun Chuangyan to be silent. If no one cares, I will make you cry.
[一drop rope]
The setting sun sets the solitary city deep and closed, and the four mountains are wild and green. The sound of breaking the sound is unbearable, it is whimpering and mulberry dry water. ○The noble man in the high pavilion leans slightly, causing sorrow to turn into drunkenness. The colorful clouds live up to their return date, but they are still afraid that the dusk will be easy.
[Taichangyin]
There was a slight surge in the late night at Xiguan.At the end of the day, old friends are far away. When Cong Gui will recruit, he can't dream of Tiao Nan painting the radius. ○When we meet at a small moor, chrysanthemums are on the back of the oars, and the flavor words are holding pincers, and the tide is flowing out of the harbor. There are three or two autumn lights with low latitude.
[Night Tour Palace Two Songs]
The door is covered by the dusk and drizzle. The three came out and served as the golden building for the feast. Stop singing Jiangnan heart-broken poems, small silver zither, thirteen strings, new columns. ○The remaining cricket catkins outside the flowers. The dark throat is broken, and the green yarn is smoked. Sad knot travels on the middle road of Yunmeng. Pick up the lamp, fold the red paper, and seal it with tears.
Blowing water to dispel the fragrance is early. The cyanotic pot is warm and the lamp is turned back with a smile. The messy green servant girl's pillow and letter are small, like a Luofu. The moon is dim and yellow, and it comes in a dream. ○The sky is dark and the wind is blowing. Small birds are nearby, and the sky is full of crows. Start to change the old year's draft of Shangchun. When there is no one around, I manage the red hairpin and grow old.
[Reminiscences of old friends in Taoyuan]
The jade concubine calls the moon and Penglai is shallow, and the lead and water are like a galaxy. In the dream, the person leaning on the railing changes, and the favor is exhausted by the palace fan. ○The makeup building is full of residual light in the west wind, which makes you look fancy. The fragrance is on the south bank of Hongyi, the sky is close and the microwave is far away.
[Extreme lovesickness]
Qu Lan is clear, the mirror is polished in autumn, and the cyan clouds are flying by. The two mandarin ducks have had enough sleep, the rhombus silk is spinning, and they don't believe in the storm. ○One evening, I walked far away in the clouds. The old palace was yellow and desolate. The weather has become colder, and the dragon's beard is like a brocade, and it is getting colder and colder.
[Two Songs of Love and Embroidery Quilt]
The sun sets behind the cicada curtain and the sun rises, looking into the mirror. When the wind blows, Lingbo and Luo Sock are left in the cold while doing your business. ○The embroidered dust coils around the horse's green doorway, with the west wind at its back, able to rationalize and stop madness. Don’t forget, we made a car appointment, late at night, under the moon, it was like crossing the parapet.
The red scales blow the fragrance of the wine, leaning on the golden boat, and the night is long. I dreamed that at the bottom of Peng Mountain, I asked about Lan Xin and her sleeves were dewy. ○ Yancheng goes without lovesickness, listens to the empty building, and looks tired in the autumn mirror. The word "material brocade" means "rarely able to meet", negative year after year, and sent to the general by the river.
[Two Songs of a Night Boat]
Hunting, cool smoke and late night osmanthus, dusk is approaching, wine is sad and carefree. The fragrant red gauze flying low with exposed feet is wet, and the Forbidden City leads to tears. ○ Half of the remaining paintings in Cangzhou. The west wind blows, and the flute cannot be heard. Hate the water to leave the smoke, where is the fairy tree, but the fish tail is skimming off the waves.
My heart is filled with wine. The old soul disappears, shadowed on the E Pond. At first, the strings and strings are as soft as the clouds. I turn over the flowers and step on them to sing a new song. ○Don’t be ashamed of being late. Near the gate, there are many obstacles. The beautiful woman is unable to dance back to the wind, fighting against lightness is a waste of her delicate palms.
[Four Poems about Heartfelt Love]
Zhi Qiong Ke is tired of the gull. Flying dream falls on Pingzhou. The cool breeze blows down the wild geese in the south, and the resentment flows into the autumn water. ○If you have no idea, ask Xilou. Old curtain fishing. Where is the orchestra, the palace is empty with fallen leaves, and the head of the pond is crystal clear.
Binghutingguan Zongboping. The light screen hides the lamp. Sitting alone on the mountain, leaning against a fan, looking at the moving stars from the tail of a bamboo. ○Things on the wrong road lead to tired wandering. Dreams never come true. The exposed postures are gone, the jade mat is still there, and the autumn is born overnight.
The news of Luan Yuqiu is endless. Birch candles cover the mountain. The rhyme of the well is suddenly exposed, and the Jianghe River returns in a frightening dream. ○Without any other words, I embrace the sleeping servant girl. Tears dry up. The wind blows in the orchid bushes, but before reaching the needle tower, it feels cold in Luo Jian.
The mesh is broken and the water sinks into smoke. The silver duck sleeps steadily. The dew point on my clothes is like rain. I sit and watch the moon flow. ○Tiaoan Road, gong boat. What year is it. Leaning on the building, my thoughts are clear, and my clothes are pure and simple. I can withstand the cold autumn.
[Three Songs on Visiting Kinmen]
The windows are dark and the spring cold is endless on all sides. Crows crow around the tree, and the weft is red and wet with tears. ○I am unable to change my clothes, and I am worried about the news about Yuguan. I swore secretly that Mr. Luan Luan would not remember me, so I forced myself to look for a gap in the mirror.
The flower is leaking urgently, and the lichen is red and narrow. The man with the dancing sleeves should follow suit, and the host will turn out to be the guest. ○Today there is a beautiful feast under the cloud screen, and tomorrow there is a desolate post with ragged cuckoos. The clouds on the collapsed ground are as thick as ink. Where can I stand in my dream?
can't keep it, the butterfly fairy skirt takes a slight step. Drops of water cut off the road outside Wufeng Tianwai, and it rains all night long like a curtain. ○The new composition of Yellow Flowers with Tears is written as Chan Yan's Yiyu. The twin green feathers of the fairy mountain are waiting to be called, and I send you my affection.
[Ten Songs of Candle Shadow Shaking Red]
The golden fairy shed tears, but went out of the way with the plate. The wild geese crow in the cool cloud cage in autumn, and the fragrant orchid smiles while the dew weeps. ○The solitary phoenix travels in the smoke near the dawn, bringing misty dreams to the red wall. The stone scales are desolate water, the west wind does not care, the low fireflies shine on themselves.
After a few days of poetry, I don’t know where the swallow will go. Stop the falling catkins and flying flowers, and change the way in front of the door. ○Zeng Caiyoufang wrote a sentence about the lake and mountains, which suddenly made him sad. Pingting plays the flute and expresses her sadness, and her chanting becomes increasingly painful.
Sitting in the east wind, half-fairy clouds rise from the sky. The makeup is slightly dizzy with tears and rouge, and the mirror is leaning against the branches. In the dream of Qin Zheng in the embroidered house, I pressed Liangzhou and urged me to chant and get drunk. After the orioles crow, the setting sun changes and the world is fragrant. ○ There is no definite cloudy or clear sky, and I can’t understand Dongjun’s intention in the vast sky. There is spring light everywhere in front of me, turning the idle peaches and plums upside down. If you want to describe the past events of the Hua Qing Dynasty, the waves of dust and cold desolation will gnaw at the paper.The soul cannot return from sleep, the flames of candles screen the mountains, and I miss myself alone.
The remaining ink on the mountain face, for whom it reaches the hook curtain. Di buds and birds are noisy on the flat bank, and the orchid road is still clear. The flowing light passes through the feathers, the cold Zen sky, the bells and the pestle are broken. Where is the fragrant travel? There is no reason to clear the corner, and it is so sad to blow. ○Spring ends at the end of the world, and Maoyuan is intoxicated and thinking about returning to the poem. On a good day and a good night, there is an old east wind, but who believes that the cuckoo's cuckoo is bitter? I want to pick apple blossoms and send them to you, but the green window is deep and my expectations are wrong. The dangerous fence is leaning against, the setting sun is covered with chaos, and there are countless floating clouds.
The spring curtain is covered with wicker and light clouds in the northwest. A thousand chirps of Bo Lao will not make the sky clear, and the smoke will make the hairspring fall. The ground is littered with cherry blossoms, and the east wind is blowing again in the shadow of the building. Thousands of reds are sinking, amidst the sound of thunderbolts, who is holding the setting sun? ○It is easy to dissolve the condensation, which makes Chu Lan feel sad. Waiting for the wine, Cangzhou sheds tears. Standing alone against the dangerous railing with sleeves and hands, the green leaves are turning and the sea air is faint. The fish, dragon and wind are bad, the fragrance is half broken, and the sorrow is hard to express.
The stacks of drums are gloomy, and the pink plum blossoms are floating in the cold air. The two swallows in front of the house did not come back, and Liang Hua was covered with dust. Rong Yisi Yang Cuixuan is afraid of the east wind and the new sorrow. The lights have just been turned off, the swing has not yet been tied, and the love is sad and beautiful. ○For no reason, the oriole cries on its back and wets the agarwood threshold. A spring brings joy and water, and wine eliminates sorrow. Don't dream about the silver screen and all the emotions. Your heart is moving, but your flute silk has not yet been restrained. Laughing on the way home, wild flowers scattering the face, the dusk is dim.
The autumn posture is in the mirror, and the four mountains are dark and melancholy. The shadows of toads turn and scatter in the empty bath, and the three or five cool fireflies flicker. People in Qingjing are easy to owe when they are free, and when they wash away their leisurely feelings, their cups are not filled with wine. After the sound of waves, all the money is gone, and the dragonfly is alone. ○The moon bead lamp is used to make flowers float out of the fence. The fish and birds should be a little tired of urging Ah Lai to spend the night indiscriminately. The remaining half of the painting on Cangzhou is hung with Xifeng and Canglong Suisui. The crows haven't woken up yet, the wind is sparse outside, and the heavy city is more dense.
Thousands of families cry in the wild, but they don’t hate the light of spring behind closed doors. In the year of the year, there are many immortals standing in front of the palace, looking at the fragrant hall. I went to Lao Cangjiang and slept late, afraid of arrangements, clinging to chickens and painting swallows. Enjoy the lights and slaughter Su in troubled times, now your mind is clear. ○How long will you live? How long will it take to change your scarf? The dream soul is still pointing to the class, who knows that Chang'an is far away. Then the sound of worshiping the cuckoo is cut off, and I lean on the dangerous fence, with my hair short in the wind. For whom is the news? Firecrackers are next to the east, and the green flags are trembling alone.
The spring lights are broken, and the wine cannot withstand the cold. Borrowing someone from the fence to drop the horizontal branches, it eliminates the feeling of passing years. The flying flowers of the guests are reduced together, and the waste is far away, and the clear lead is several points. The two swallows in the painting hall fly next to whose house, and the carved beams are newly occupied. ○Lying alone in the Cangjiang River, the old alliance found a flock of gulls. Don't rely on Huiyan to complain about your hometown, causing shock and waves all over the place. The spring plate of raw tea is not yet full. There are two plum blossoms in Beijing and half ashes of condensed dust. In the cold weather, I am willing to be loved by my neighbor and make easy money from the east wind.
The eucalyptus trees hang in autumn, and the ashes of honey are warm and fragrant. The silver platform is surrounded by double lines of flowers, and the place is connected to the clear dawn. Counting official Mei Xin early, accounting for time, Qiongxiao misty. The spring breeze is uncertain, but after the Double Ninth Festival, the peaches are full. ○The fields are wide and the sky is wide, full of love and affection. When the body is idle, the elixir of heart is as strong as ever, and Langyuan is full of immortality. With a smile on the root of the cloud, the colorful hair flies and the Zhu string plays the ancient tune. Two luan's cross each other, the sky is warm and fragrant, the red corns and black hats are there.
[Wushan Duan Yun]
The bead curtains are sold out and the spring embroidery is sold, and the golden furnace sinks in the evening. Forbidden flowers are scattered and a few apes are singing, which is easy to be the autumn shade. ○My eyebrows are small when I look at them from afar, and my tears are deep when the microwave reaches them. The color of the mountains is so overwhelming that I can only find it in my dreams.
[Pin Ling]
The orioles are released in the green cage. Yu Sheng calls and the clouds come and go. My thoughts are like a leaf in a palace. The old fragrance and old color are always next to the dressing table. ○Ah Luanxin sings at the end of the song. Also peeking into people's eyebrows. The lantern core returns to the autumn tent as the moon slants, and the tired farmer feels melancholy. Zheng strings rang across the alley.
[Zuixiangchun]
The green dust is condensed on the pavilion, and it is sad to see the flowers lying on the branches. Remember Jinse, who grows up with people and occupies the broken pearl curtain. ○More details: Qiao Chuda, not the time of year and the moonlight night. It's normal to meet each other. It's like a spring string unloading.
[Four Songs of the Happy Migrant Orioles]
The smile is shallow, the makeup is late, and the sweet things are gone. The horse with the embroidered saddle has returned empty-handed, and there is still an appointment for Yan to come. ○The mirror screen moves, the flowers leak forever, and I look at the shadow of the female bed Luan with regret. I met the curtains of my house in my dream, and turned to the east of the Song Dynasty wall.
yu worm cold drop. The curtain of falling plum blossoms shines on the door, and the light spring is still separated. The clothes are made of sorrow, and the distance is so long that the smoke is straight. It is made to have a bitter taste, a long-lasting beauty, and a mirror-like color. After chanting tiredly, I accompany the moon falling from the west tower. I am worried about the guests tonight. ○Happy traces. Holding back tears, I remember a few memories of my old home and check out the flutes and flutes. The phoenix is light and dusty, the luan and hairpin are dense, and the chants are filled with resentment, red and sad blue. I also think about the dream, how have I ever experienced the road outside the flowers? I haven't fallen asleep yet, and I feel confused and worried.
The wind is shaking. In the pavilion of the old age, there are two boats on the Miasang River, and the branches are divided into branches. The people and flowers are the best, and I still travel in the same year. The fragrance spreads over the turret pines, the fire is red, and the tangerine door is shaded by rocks.The swallow comes early, I ask if the residual cold has disappeared, will the fragrant voice return? ○ Leisure place. A few signatures were sent to Gu Meng Ji and Yan Yi, and the fight hung on Cangshan Mountain at noon. The resentment is back, and the end of the year is urging me to send you off, but I won't send a single feather of Manfan. He slaughtered Su Wumei since he was dead, and he relied on Huijian to write sentences carelessly. Move your pillow around, look at the scrolls of flowers and candles, and the red clouds.
Cangzhou Chengbie. It's freezing and astringent, and the wine is in my arms. It's rare to see snow in the south. The night is long, the guest's clothes are thin in spring, and the bed embroidered with gold thread is perfect. Tired of clinging to the leaves, I listen to myself in confusion and sing the flute festival. I hate my temples, they are fresh spots of clear frost, and the branches are shamefully broken. ○South Vietnam. The plum blossoms are dim, the fragrance is faint under the tent, and the sorrow is tied with the green lantern. The east wind is troublesome, the end of the world is easy, and the sound of Guan Jia is choked. When the trees come back, the waves in my heart are soft and broad. Looking for dreams, I am afraid that the smoke will completely cover me, and the yellow moon will appear by the sand.
[Ban female resentment]
Xie Tang is worried about thousands of things, and her makeup is thin. The green luan is upturned and the golden phoenix is wisps, looking forward to the passing of spring. Walking around the flowers, you can't hear the warblers.
[Two Songs Across the River]
The lingering fragrance floats in the mist on the Qingyang Road. Everywhere. The curtain has a flower bottom and a red door. No one lives there. What age. Pin Chun Su. ○Xiaocaoxiang, real pearl red note. Pick the string posts. The harp and harp make their own language. There is no public crossing. The west wind pays. Tide back.
sentences Chen Yuanwu faces each other. Twilight. Jiu Lan's courage is exposed. Liuying Road. Who draws it? Wucheng Fu. ○Afraid of heavy talk, Protector of Anxi. Qingcong goes. Qiu Lin has left the garrison since the Ming Dynasty. Wind and rain. You, the head of the city. Faint crow language.
[Three Songs of Xixizi]
The tragic song of Yan and Zhao people is here, and Meng's old home is overturned. He shouted for wine, but before the feast was half over, the strings of his zither broke. Sober up and startled. I will hate going up to the tall building and looking at Youzhou.
The warbler is singing in the green window. Sleeping on a mountain pillow will eliminate your frown. Good spring is gone, people are farther away. Jejunal rupture. Whispering phoenix grate golden trembling. Go to Ma Baochai Tower. Do not look back.
converted to Yanmen Qiuchai. Melancholy twists the belt of acacia. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart was broken. The void calls. Don't worry about breaking the bank. Look back and ask Goto. Change to Illinois.
[Two Songs of Drunk Taiping]
The bonfire lamps are cold, the books on the bed are broken, and a single leaf on the window is open, making me feel leisurely and full of sorrow. ○Xishan rebuked, the orchid was shameless, and in the dream, I was ashamed to cross the mulberry trunk, and there were tears before autumn.
green window to win money. Honglan Jianhan. Fighting against Chanjuan in the distance. Everyone is in the same mood. ○The skirt is wide. The tears are dry. I am worried about staying in Meishan. It’s a cold night after passing the West Tower.
[Reminiscences of Youth]
The smoke and dust can be seen for a long time, the ruthless Qingwei River will never return to the east. The desolate Du Lingsou sings his sad songs in the same valley. ○The moon is bitter and frosty. If you endure the flood, the willows will be new and the trees will be green. Where the wind-calling bird is, there is a pile of golden millet.
[The Second Song of Xijiang Moon]
When the Que Yuanyang Society disperses, the swallows move to their nests in the cold. Spring hurts people when they wake up from drunkenness. The wine is cold and the flowers fly far away. ○There is no dream in the mountain pillow for a spring, and there are two railings in the water hall. The shaft curtain comes to adjust the strings of the piano, and the east wind in the heart is in chaos.
Looking for the robbery and turning over the jade bureau, stealing the sound and recording the silver paper at night. Some leisurely things to celebrate the Chinese New Year. The style of the letter is really lazy. ○The musk deer on the sleeves of the shirt is resting slightly, and the parrots are talking about it. My own house is neglected. Check out the hairpins on the partition wall.
[Recalling Two Songs by Wang and Sun]
The sound of the jade flute is flying in the smoke. The boat opened up a patch of water. The hands of the jade zodiac are facing each other. Tired of flattering. Only Shaou has no feelings for the world.
Hua Ruozhangan wakes up from wine. Leaning alone in the lantern, dry rain comes again. The spring tide of sorrow arises day and night. When will it be flat? If you don’t believe it, you won’t shed any tears.
[Two Songs Between Drunken Flowers]
The slanting sun screens the mountains in darkness, and the waves are full of color. The geese do not fly back, the west wind weeps on the strings. ○Lang lives in Jinyanyi. A piece of paper has been obtained over the years, but he has no two wings. In the dream, the new path was vague, and the army moved, and the barrier was dark.
Lanjiao looks like ink on a cloudy spring day. The east wind has no strength. The two swallows plunder the bright ripples, secretly letting go of leisure and sorrow. ○ Tears add to the narrowness of the golden cup. Drunk and dazzled. Embroidered curtains are easy to separate. Xie Niang's thoughts are clearest. Who can tell the difference between the brocade paper and the book?
[Fourteen Songs for Picking Mulberry Seeds]
This year, Yanhua is on the roadside, and the true color screen is empty. The chaotic leaves fade into red, and fade into one or two peaks of the palace eyebrows. ○Guanhe thousands of miles hurt and brought tears to the eyes, and ruined the west wind. The word "Jin" means trouble. Don't go to a high building to count the number of birds.
Water essence quenches the thirst of people in sleep and dreams, but does not give them golden stems. With the help of Qianqiong, the spring thunder spins up and comes out of the vase. ○One spoonful also contains some ginger and stony milk flowers. Yuxi is cool and refreshing, and the flavor is clearer than sobering ice.
People say that the West Lake is beautiful when the moon spreads out, and the clouds are overcast even at dusk. Xiao Sen is in Jiaofang, and he has a spare room to listen to the rain. ○Su'e seems to cherish the loneliness of others and hangs low in the plain forest. The bridle is urged to sink in the west, and the money for the night comes unexpectedly.
It’s good to go up to the West Lake in the moonlight over the Three Pools, so I’ll go there with a drink. There are not many willows, but Peng Lang has white hair. ○Only when I lean on the railing can I feel the heavy fragrance of autumn and the heavy load of wind. Thousands of autumn snails and vast greenery rush to the mirror nest.
Look at the mountains and look for the West Lake, which is good, Xiaoyao is in the middle of the stream. The water pillow is surrounded by flowers, and there are countless scenery spots. ○The darkness shakes a leaf in the vast sky and bathes at the head of the swan bay. The cicadas are singing in autumn, where is the poet Huang Mianlou.
Fo Xiang Xian Bai West Lake is good, I live near Nanping. The patient's ears are dim, and he is used to counting the sound of the clear bell towards the evening. ○The sunset reaches the Huangfei Pagoda, and the grass and trees are curled up. The shadow is clear, and an old monk looks slumped in his towel.
Xianou knows the West Lake best and is willing to say goodbye to Qingdun. When you come to tell me about your kindness, you will be able to reach the shore in a small boat. ○At thirty, he lived in the pavilion and opened the pond and boat. Fight for leisure, and you will arrive at the door next year when the flowers are blooming.
Double moths, osmanthus leaves and Wu makeup are light, and the fragrant sleeves rest on the shoulders. The water is at the beginning of the round, the crimson wax wind is disappearing and the cold is fine. ○After the people in Yuehua divided their thoughts, the wild geese were talking in the sky. The dream of flowers is empty and the scenery is nothing like last year.
Cichao Wanluo low Feiyan, the general road is ruthless. My eyes are full of tears, and I can't live in the bitter taboo. ○The cloister is a place of misty meditation, greeted by the mist and moon. There was a sound of business in the dream, and autumn moss grew step by step all night long.
I know that my love is wandering and the spring is gone, and I cherish my time. Don't change the incense in the stove, just sit by the small words that calm your heart. ○The leisurely feeling reaches the water in the east of the building, and you can gaze at the bright makeup. Suohu Wenchuang, win a dream of many lives.
Fushengtian and Ji are separated, and no lingering is allowed. Thin and dry strings are all the reason for autumn people's freedom. ○The moon was shining brightly on the Ying'e Pond, shining brightly on Chan Juan. Farewell is like smoke, and nineteen years have passed by.
Now I know Liu Lang’s hatred, and I am in love with the phoenix and the phoenix. Not in Pengshan, only in the small fan room with low curtains. ○I am used to wandering around in my clothes at night. Who can see the moonlight? There is no reason for sorrow and joy, but the old dreams of high hills are still cold.
Don't regret that there is no bright moon tonight, and avoid Chang'e. The wine is full of fragrant snails, and the good night is spent watching people in dreams. ○After returning home, I lay alone in the rain outside the west window, with few idle tears. If you don't listen to the song, you will have already made arrangements to call Naihe.
Xianyun may not necessarily be able to think about it, but the questions are all over the paper. Piaomiao wanders among immortals, and loses his clear chants to a generation of virtuous people. ○I am unable to find sentences when I am old, and I sit here and cherish my years. By the side of the passing wild geese, my soul is broken and sleeps in the west hall during the day.
[Two Songs for Celebrating Spring]
After dusk, my heart and eyes felt cold. Do you remember the joy of the past? The clothes are fragrant and the shadows of spring are long and dry. ○Wu Yu listened and asked who pointed Gong Luan for the photo. The eagle is close to the bottom, and the moon is frozen, and it still looks like a green eyebrow.
In late spring, the door is closed, the clothes are fragrant and the clothes are fragrant, and the steps are shy. The young swallows carry mud in their mouths, and the long sun returns at an angle. ○The east wind is in chaos, not for the happy occasion. Add fragrant green quilt, named Zangfeng paper, to entertain when the flowers are falling.
[Two Songs of Licorice Seeds]
Autumn dusk. Awakening from the dream, the remaining crickets chatter in the agarwood household. The dark ink cannot form a book, the sky is far away and the wind blows on the road. ○Tonight, I am in a dimly lit place, asking the tired guest who will count the return journey. The wild geese in the infinite autumn heart are about to leave and pay the cold rain in the Chu sky.
天木. All the remaining crows passed by, and the windows were dimly lit. Dust rises all over the city, and the dark moon calls out to the Eagle Road. ○The place where Yan and Zhao’s old homes meet. The depths of his eyes are countless. The lone sword turned into a dragon by the bedside. There was wind and rain for a long time.
[Nine Songs of Poppies]
How many times the river has fallen, a sad scroll. The red frost sweeps away all the towers, winning a hundred years of peace and prosperity for you. ○ When making people's poems and poems, tears burst into tears when they are sad, and they burst into pieces in the ileum. Mo Chen has been robbed of the gray and cold together, but the autumn lights of Xiaoji are still facing Chang'an.
In the evening, the orioles fly out of the curtain door, and the wind horses sing in the eaves. Amidst the sound of spring rain at the end of the world, an inch of candlelight is still in love, and the feast is red. ○The clouds outside Wangjing Tower are full, and the eyes are filled with sadness. Famous stations blow cold old gold and win the pride of Wuling and the hearts of young people.
The misty moon in the water hall disappears the eyebrows and calyx, and the dream breaks off the qiongzhi. Sitting with a low frown and a deep look, I don't know what the pink fragrance, tears, and wet clothes are all about. ○In the dark sky, the zither sounds are rising from the west tower, and the curtains are blowing. Looking at people singing clear songs under flowers, I don’t believe that a spring dream of rain will be more sorrowful than it is.
Chaochao is sad and ashamed, and the heart is broken. The jade plum blossoms bloomed at the farewell banquet, but they said they would return before the flowers withered. ○ Yanzhou Road is on the screen, and when I wake up from drunkenness, I sing my sculls. Tears do not hesitate to wash the red paper, knowing that it is difficult to send a letter because it sticks to the waves in the sky.
When I was young, I was alone and wrote letters, but I was still in a daze while drinking wine. It is because of the luxuriant grass that I remember the skirt, and countless east winds frighten my dreams, making them unable to form clouds. ○Agarwood rains everywhere, and the broken mirror and flowing flowers disappear. Failing to face the spring tide without hatred, I have gained Hui Fan's heart and mind, so far.
I haven’t woken up from the dream of wild geese for many years, and the wild geese are wandering wildly. There is no need to discuss the people who hang sails, so they are born with Bianzhou and have no interest in it. ○The stubborn autumn waist and feet are unmanageable, and the long-term injury brings tears to the eyes. The old friend's letters fell into the west wind, but I emptied them of the dust of the mountains and rivers.
At dusk, the plum wind blows in the flute, and the grass spreads all over the skirt. A full column of red calyx should always be worn, and if you don't respect it, it will be reduced and your heart will be gone. ○He Lang's writing style is old, and he becomes annoyed when sitting under the flowers. The cold moon on the river calls me true, a wisp of sadness still lingers, so the branches are spring.
Chang'e does not regret stealing the elixir, and she makes an appointment in the lonely blue sea. When the dowry is not yet round, who calls the wind and makes a flurry of flutes. ○The slender clouds roll away the cold golden waves, shattering the shadows of mountains and rivers. Yan Chou really wants to ask the blue sky, if the moon will shine brightly this year and next year again.
Jing Wu was shocked one night in the early autumn, and at the end of the month Nan Hong was young. The golden incense seal script can't help the wind, covering the road to the end of the world and the painting screen. ○Poluo spent all his years in tears, forgetting his joys and resentments. Autumn watch has twenty-five long sounds, who can accompany the sleepless people on their backs and acacia beds.
[Two Songs of Jiuquanzi]
Returning swallows step on the curtain, and the flowers are dark and fragrant on the road. When I was heartbroken, I held hands and peered into the dowry. ○One spring of silent tears and Jiangnan, stirring up Xie Niang’s heartfelt song. When the jade hair comes back and the silver hair frowns, it is an empty letter.
insect net blowing curtain. Cut off the path of leisure and sorrow. Willows and flowers are flying, with no fixed place, filling the rivers and ponds. ○Pick incense at the south of Broken Bridge. Who will pounce on the horizontal hairspring? The writing is new and the dream is ripe. Li Chunfan.
[Five Poems by Siyue People]
Bu was in a bad mood, huddled in the cold night, and his shoulders were thin when writing poetry. The Qingqin is broken and the big move is scattered. ○ Smiling to resist sparse fame, losing paper is thin, feeling lonely and lonely. I was slightly asleep, and there were sounds of people chanting and chanting.
shovel the east wind evil. The dust is shadowy and the stockings are scratched. The oil wall gives up. The flowers on the embankment are falling. ○Afraid of heavy wine, cold smell and thin sleeves. Intermittent spring sorrow and dream pavilion. There is no ground to land on. Cowardly across the curtain, Hengbo came to make an appointment.
I feel evil at night. The curtains are filled with shadows, and the jade hooks are double-cut. Spring is thin but beautiful. The catkins are still falling. ○ Get rid of leisure and sorrow early, like wine that is thin. The drizzle lights and flowers are floating in the small pavilion. Partially dreaming. In the north of Yulan, we have a happy date during the New Year.
The road is full of evil. Give them to each other, and cut the plain writing by yourself. The sorrow of spring is gone. The tide goes out late. ○The atmosphere of the old days is as beautiful as the clouds are thin. Less than Hongni Tianban Pavilion. Still remember. To find peach leaves and peaches, make an appointment in advance.
There is frost and wind in the painting. Look at what time it is, the evening peak is sharp. The thick green color is picked up. A forest is falling. ○ When I am lazy, I sip the winter mash, which is as thin as water. Sitting against the oil window in the new warm pavilion. By Mei Rui. Make an appointment for flower classes and add repairs to children.
[青门音]
Don’t blame Lanqiao Drink. The drunken coral is hard to sleep on. Goose screen dream separated by the green mountains of Shu, whose cries wet the brocade at the head of the river. ○The golden toad bites the lock to know who is forbidden. The remaining leaves of the furrow are soaked in red. Qing'e shed tears because of this. The west wind thins but the east sun sinks.
[Saw Solution Order]
Drunk and Shuangyan bid farewell to the west building, wake up without remembering, and the cup will be full of tears. The sky in front of the flowers sings and sings the ripples, and the old sorrows remain unchanged. ○The strings are rolled all over. That's a lazy change of song. I just send the last spring of the feast away, it is common to fight hard and fall red.
[Fourteen Poems Looking at Jiangnan]
Sit under the lamp, the moon outside the lamp is flat to the west. Accompanying the leisurely sorrow, nestling in the dusk swallow, protecting the thin sleeping curtain and rhinoceros. Only when the dream comes. ○The orioles are awakening, and the tidbits are fascinating in late spring. The rain on the pillow has stains on half of the sleeves, and Jinglan is unable to iron her eyebrows. Not for living alone.
Xiangzhen is old, and Zhu Ming is the emperor of the dynasty. If you don’t believe that a bright pearl is born in the sea, the sadness in the south of the Yangtze River will always be difficult to calm down. Worried about Genglan Cheng. ○Cang Wu hates, and the tears of bamboo have subsided. For eternity, Xiangling has heard the joyful place, and the clouds and mountains are filled with sad sounds. Every word is heart-warming.
fight for one word, and the goose and duck are annoyed by Chunjiang. It turned out that the new Yuefu was released, and Qi Liang also appeared in the music. I can't bear to belittle Sandang. ○The sea of clouds is about to appear, and the bright mirror is covered with autumn frost. I hope Wu Jizi is alive and has never looked like a filthy man. There is a pond when I return to my old age.
Jialingyun, there are many people with sorrow and joy. The domineering spirit is quite mixed with the green curse, and the clear sound is just called Ziyun Song. Regardless of Xiu Shihe. ○As an old man, let’s take a look at the wine. The subtlety of the body is not enough to spoil the romance, but it is better to be a poem than to be greedy for too much. The sect started in Zhehe.
Lan Qi is very expensive, and he is willing to be a family man. Interpret the words on Hongluo Pavilion, "The world would rather be alone in the small mountain". You know whether you are warm or cold. ○Extremely soul-stirring, a peerless poem by Ruan Ting. Seeing the green poplar city wall, tourists sang Yechun's poems together. The pen is full of sadness.
Staying as a guest, the Partridge Chapter of Jue Tiao. To get rid of all the poetry flow and Xiangze habits, the high autumn atmosphere is opposite to Nanshan. Liodu Yan wave front. ○Beside Changshui, Eryin is better than Turtle Creek. Regardless of the name of the poem, the poems are related to each other. Humanity is in good health.
The south lake is hidden, and the heart is broken by a small long reed. I picked up the hateful words in the air, but I don't know if I can detect the beads on my chin. Divine enlightenment is also trivial. ○The power of Huilan can be used to select candidates. Since the origin of the etymology is sparse, the word "chishou" can be seen in Zi Mian. Objection four farmers.
The golden needle is perfect, and the words are distinguished by Zhi'an's essence. Cutting off the flow of people and changing the situation, the music garden with one light will always be bright. Deduced four commentaries. ○The boat is like a leaf, and landing on the shore is your kindness. A dream about the remaining old moon in Jinliang, and the thousand-year-old jade curtain has returned to the cloud. The sheets are divided into shed rocks.
Nothing good can lead to a career. Of course, being sad has become a habit, and I don't shy away from tiredness for leisure. I am grateful for my life. ○A lyricist who spends his spare time entertaining relatives and doing other things. In the 20th year of the Kejia Mountain, guests were disembarking, and the fans were all painted in the air.Achieve the body of suffering.
Autumn wakes up and embraces the spirit of Biqi. Growing orchids and miscellaneous pendants, competing with the tripod, let Qingyin sing. Xinqi guide has deep roots. ○ Zhen Shige, Ling Shen's several ginsengs. If you cite the long and short sentences from the Confucian classics, you will recall the south of the Yangtze River. It has an elegant sound.
Gao Wen said that being a coward leads to Zhuang Tan. I feel the frost flying towards the mirror, and I understand that my clothes are moistened by the smoke from the furnace. It's wonderful beyond words. ○ I hate the end of the road, I cut the ground and sing songs of mourning. How many times I shed tears of sorrow for the spring and worry about the country, and my family supports Du Lingcai. The thief comes from hard work.
One petal of incense is as long as half a pond. It looks like a flower outside the flower every time, and its appearance is worse than that of Mingke Xiong. The ridge represents this sect style. ○Looking for a hidden place, the sky opens up in the big crane cave. Crossing the river to avoid visitors becomes a sojourn. In times of mourning, there is no place to waste the talents of immortals. Take some time off.
Idle gold powder, Cao Hao cannot make a country. A new army emerged, and the non-Guan Ci school had Xijiang. Being proud makes it difficult to be together. ○Double flying wings, regret to kill in Yingzhou. The poem is written by Yi An Ren Dao Yun, but it is sad to die and worried about work. Heartbroken and blocked by Yuan Qiu.
Let’s talk about rhythm and diction. The bamboo branches were turned over and returned to Xudu, and the feathers and feathers were carved again. Hold and match Zixia without. ○It is difficult to master the skills of an eagle and an insect through the ages. He newly worshiped Hainan as general and tried to visit the Guijiao Central Plains. Whoever comes will ascend to the altar.
[Chrysanthemum New]
The night is full of flowers in the ancient alley, and the money is proud of the horse beside the horse. Try on a spring shirt with a smile, turn over the old clothes and embroider the sky, Wu patterns. ○Ten years of life and life are tied to the dusty net. Dreams are about to wear clothes and stare at the old mountains. There is no silk to dye with barberry, and it is necessary to cook and paint Luo Qiucheng.
[Ruienxin]
Guihong's thoughts are colder than Yun's. The remaining tears and passing waves are all condensed. The frost-covered maples, the strong spring red, each leaf, darkly carves the shadow of the heart. ○In the dream, Ruoye is like a mirror. The autumn water is quenched, and the sword flowers are frosty. Waiting for the Ming Dynasty, I will return to work for Yuan Gong, and I will plant thousands of hectares of silk.
[Two Songs of Phoenix Title Cup]
Only two pairs of swallows are affectionate, looking for dreams and thanking the family hall. It's rare for a new couple in Chitou to play the flute, and they all feel sorry for each other. The sun is setting late. ○The mountains are long and the sky is far away. Should fight hard, complain and cry out. Today I show you the fragrant paper with your fine calligraphy, and I am ashamed to miss you so much.
The clouds in Hebei Province are cold, the west wind is blowing, and the flute next to it is sad. It is said that old grievances and new grievances are always unfounded, who can ask, Jiuchongquan. ○ Feeling sad about the scene, I regretted posting the note. Soul-breaking moves, mournful bursts of Zhu Xian. It was expected that someone would collect bones by the river at night. Who would pity the parrot?
[Autumn Night Rain]
The sound of horns and yellow clouds are everywhere, and people are leisurely asking what night it is. The east wind is frivolous. I am so annoyed that my writing style is so beautiful. ○The jade dragon's song of resentment is fragrant far away, and there is news about plum blossoms and plum blossoms. After drinking, I shed tears and recited the candle inspection and the new calendar of the Han family.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest are so eye-catching. When the road is cut off, who calls Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. There are few people in the jade world, only a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute of resentment is the sound of flying. I complained to the east wind, but it was still drifting.
[Picking Hongying]
Guan Yunhei. The edges are sandy white. There was no news after Jinxian left. Who sings. The strings of the zither ring. There is a sound of imperial edicts, and the moon tilts across the felt tent. ○Crazy traces. No one knows. The singing brings us to Chang'an. On a high building. Leaning on the railing and looking. There is no place for the soap carving, and the flying fox is in the party.
[Tea Ping'er]
For ten years, my clothes have been dusty and dusty, and the jade plum blossoms in my hometown are sparse. Whoever has the clearest way to recruit the soul of the flowers will cook the food and go to the five lakes alone. ○The moon shines brightly in the snow window while I sleep in sorrow, the east wind blows and the Ba Bridge is locked in spring. The smoked cage is nestled against the remaining fire of the night cultivation. It is still warm and the peppers are red and broken.
[Drunk Hanging Whip]
When I wake up, the cold fragrance invades, and there are three liang of flowers on the West Pond. The small calyx is gradually suitable for a hairpin, and a pair of proud green birds. ○The plum blossoms are falling, the wind is getting stronger, and the spring is over again. Only the heart of cherishing spring is infinitely deeper than spring.
[Langtaosha Two Songs]
is more than drifting, accompanying the autumn lanterns. There was a loud sound when thinking about the mountain. No one wants to hear how many tears I have shed when I have spent all my time in Hunan. ○If it is love, there will be sorrow and joy. The remaining dreams of the ten continents are not clear. Don't ask about the hateful notes and worry about the ink, and draw pictures from Wucheng.
Why buy money for sex, just sleep in peace. Laosheng's life experience was like a cicada. A pillow on Shuangxi Mingyue Road, a three-version sailboat. ○The sad letter reaches the edge of the gull, and the clouds and water flow along the edge. The east wind has an appointment and is happy. The lonely bamboos in the mountains are sober, and the new year will come tomorrow.
[Eight Tones of Ganzhou Four]
The west wind is cut off, the clogs are broken in the heart of the mountain, and the wild geese cannot move in the cold. It is right to carry a chanting pen, the golden city willow will be old, and the jade dew will be hurt by the maple. I asked the tired guest in Beijing where he came from when he was sober. Autumn is full of human life, and there are vicissitudes of life in an instant. ○ There are no traces of light gulls in the air, and I even lean on the building to look in the mirror, but I still waste time discussing it. With the remaining tears in the rivers and lakes, who is the yellow chrysanthemum? And near the flowers, high on the dangerous fence, if there is a long rope, it is still tied to the setting sun. Don't lose, sit high at night, rush with arrows.
Counting every year, the fifth day is too desolate, but this year is a joy.The plum blossom wind blows thinly, the apple smoke rolls up the curtain, and the water pavilion is weak and cold. The pu in Shengjiantang is getting old, and the fragrant wine cup is wide. If you don't know how to chant, it will be difficult to wake up and get drunk. ○The troubles are ridiculous and the wall is full of nonsense. I hate Xiangyuan with all the chapters and sentences of Lanquan. Laughing at the tired travelers in the south of the Yangtze River, I am leisurely in love with the boat. Waiting to linger, hairpins and talismans are used to save things, and flying rain on rivers and bridges urges them back at dusk. Outside the hanging poplar trees, there are scattered welcome drums and light waves.
Leaning on the cangyan rock, the spring robe is blowing in the half-dark sky. Thousands of servant girls mess with stars. Believe in the advice of the idle monk, the path is sticky with fragrance, and the green city is desolate. The barbarians of the motherland are far away, and the broken net becomes more fishy. Eliminate the sense of prosperity and death, a tower of ringtones. ○Have you recruited the Autumn Soul? To the cold sky, it's hard to wake up from a thirsty dream. Asking what the strings are, the ancient Taiwan is green with tears. Beautiful lakes and mountains, wandering alone and feeling lazy, and lamenting in the wind and playing the flute in front of the pavilion. Walking away, there is a small sloping corridor with flat moss on both sides.
The spring is lingering, the illness and wine are approaching dusk, and the east wind is colder than autumn. We are looking at the red building across the gauze, with the lanterns floating and the rain approaching. If the catkins fall and the flowers cannot fly, it’s a good idea to take a year off. The river knows people's wishes and welcomes tears flowing westward. ○There is only singing and dancing on a high platform, and it is easy to try on half-makeup, but it is difficult to take pictures in a hurry. I look down upon the carved beams as if I were a guest, and wonder who the swallows are staying for. The waves are rising, and the world is full of dust. I'm afraid I won't be able to board the Mulan boat. The road in front of the curtain turns green and grassy, gradually causing melancholy.
[Yuchi Cup]
is in danger. Take a look and go south to see the shadow. Autumn sounds, thousands of leaves are dry with frost, and the sky is dark with clouds. The lonely quilt is crowded at night, the candles are broken, and the guests wake up worried. They also fight for knowledge and cry bitterly. The wild wind blows through the lonely tree. ○ Should read the Beidou Jinhua, the demon star is broken in the jejunum, and the fighting spirit is still condensed. The heart is calm and ashes are all gone, and hatred and sorrow burst out randomly. When will I send you off? The clouds will sail to the corners of the sea. I will cuddle up next to you and cry at the end of the world. When the stem asks what, it is like the sound of Du Qu singing and the sound of Bauhinia blowing on the old mountain path.
[Two Songs of Tianxiang]
The green partridge collects its spots, the jade dragon spits, like clouds, who can crush them. The small bamboo stick is heavy with fragrance, and the two smokes are in the same breath, creating a hint of warmth and light spring. The flowers are sent away by the wind, the doubts are quiet, and the orchid is in a new state. There is still a silver armor on his finger, and a string of warm beads in his arms. ○ Manxun is filled with secret sorrow, and it is expected that Xijia and Cui Xian will change in spring. Wisps of clouds from the east of the sea are half lost in the remaining seal script, and the handsome clothes are lingering in the bonfire. I am afraid that it will be difficult to call, but the beautiful soul of Pengshan has returned, waiting to send my lovesickness, and the dream is far away.
It is made of celadon, with green curtains and green curtains. It is crisp and beautiful in the evening. (Outside and inside) The leaves are clean, the palace is yellow and the musk deer is beginning, and the little fu makes people suspicious of drunkenness. The elements are slender and delicate, the dew is clear and wet, and the pearls are worn in autumn. The hairpin string is newly decorated with tin millet, and the old clothes are blended with sandalwood. ○The spring is about to bake at one o'clock, and I talk about my life experience in a miserable and miasmatic country. Who knows that the old fragrance fades away, and the tears gradually condense, and the lonely night wakes up like water. Afraid of chaos and unmanageable tassel dreams, I sink from Jiannan, and my heart is tired.
[Seven Songs for Touching Fish]
The food list in front of the strange Lord is sparse. Who cares about the fragrant vegetables? The green cage is silent and hates the wind far away, and worries about the official announcement. The news is wrong, and I am afraid that Jiang Guo will be the first one, and Chun will be nowhere to be found. The most bitter taste in poetry is the bitterness of the mud in the frozen garden, the smoke in the forest and the rain, can you expect the swallows to come? ○ Countryside dream, chewing the frost a few times, losing the flavor of Sakura Kitchen. Thousands of acres of flat breasts are lost, and the root festival is cold every year. Tiao'an Road. When asked, I will take off my spring clothes in the Ming Dynasty. A message from the end of the world. After the ice moss is hoeed, the jade fiber is strong and strong, and it is also served with stewed fish.
It was almost dusk and there was no wind or rain, and spring had returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tone. Don't worry about it anymore, ask me, how much sorrow has been brewing in one hundred and five years? There are new looks and old smiles, there are dismantled embroidered ponds, enchanting forest orioles, and half-broken manuscripts for decoration. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. Too early to return! Why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind? Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes the shade. Who will fall with the Jade Mountain?
Occupies a dark corner of the city, and some people will hold grudges forever. The scholar's eyes were full of tears, and he cut through the mist of Haidong. The soil on the grave was trampled all over South Bridge Road for fear that wine could be poured on it. The British tour is late for you. If you are far away from Sheng He and Qian Guang, who will complain about your worries? ○It’s hard to ask, is it wrong to be a Confucian? With his writing power, he is like a crossbow. The bronze lute brings joy without distinction, and enjoys the journey of this life. At the place of mourning, the hat is broken and the donkey is tired, looking at the Qianqiu clouds. The cuckoo is the most bitter! I want a green mountain without a master, and there are spiritual poets who come to listen to the heartbroken words.
The wind and rain subsided near dusk, and spring has returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tune. Don't worry about it anymore, just ask how much autumn is brewing in one hundred and five years. New smiles and old smiles. There are dismantled embroidery pools and embroidered ponds, which are fascinated by the orioles and swallows in the forest, and are decorated with half-broken manuscripts. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. It's too early to return home, why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind. Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes a shade. Who can fall with the jade mountain?
The miserable rain drops from the first update to the next, and people in the world are left to their own devices. If you are tired of traveling and are familiar with the taste of rivers and lakes, you can't get sick and pregnant. Before the chanting, I was surrounded by solitary shadows and lanterns. Leaving the soul secretly teasing. In the year of forbidden fire, just look at the heart of the clouds, and things will burst out after the night clock. ○The promise of returning to the mountains, after the spring cuckoo cries, the light sail still lives up to its expectations. In the twenty-year anniversary of Yanqiu, many tears were shed on the sleeves. Believe it or not, it is not common to burn candles and join the bed. Ten acres of apple blossoms. Discussing the need for medicine, preparing dowry documents, and the elders are staying together.
I am too lazy to explore Yu Fangxin, and I am idle every year. Only the forest is still full of clouds and thousands of trees, and the beauty is in the spring Luoqi. The red sky is still covered by a layer of light, and there is only a thin layer of smoke. The east wind is blowing. It is not as quiet as the source of immortality. If you live in a small house, you will make a plan to avoid Qin. ○The dream of Xuandu, the fun of Kinmen games, the dream brings back the melancholy of this world! There is no fragrance or color in the Huawan Tian. How can we say that the Taoist temple is in ruins? Leaning in the air, the joy is light and the fragrance does not hurt the feeling of spring. Liu Lang is tired! No matter how many questions are written on the paper, there are no good words, and I burst into tears when I feel so happy!
asked Xihu, Hushan and Xinmei, who among them is Hejing. The plum blossom family has a thousand-year dream, and the family tradition of virgins lives in the cold. If you have no time to think about it, I recommend a cold spring. Recognize it from the deserted monument. Smoke hoe rain boat. It also takes the moon to move the roots, build according to the rock, and cook to the fragrant shadow. ○The story of the painting is a case of uncertainty, and I woke up under the flowers of the soul chanting. Renovating the temple becomes abrupt, and it is evident from where to live. Standing in the high pavilion, he composed the jade dragon's mournful song and no one listened. Hengfeng side ridge. The red calyx is left speechless, the silk clothes fly down, and the clear tears correspond to it.
[Guizhixiang]
Dinggu flood dawn, Zhengshui market sells fresh food, and the black boat arrives. Ji Ji's silver sword danced freely, and the three men threw their smoke hoods. On a cold night near Chang'an, I asked you how much jade saliva you have. The porcelain plate urges you to eat, the poem comforts you, and you chant in vain. ○Remember the local flavor and tune Sister-in-law Song. After a few pauses to think about it, it should be a good idea. Aoyu heard the guest's words all over the place, and she embraced them sadly. The dream of chilled food comes from the kitchen, and the food check list is messy and careless. The royal note is cold, the sorrow is easy to care for, and the jade scales are silent.
[Three Songs from Suan Shanxi]
The mournful strings prompt the beat, and the strings are broken all over Yinzhou. Who changes the small plum blossoms? Dreaming of horizontal branches and the fragrance of the cold night. It is a windy and snowy year, and Sanjiu is the most important thing for love. Outside the bamboo repair, in front of the beautiful window, I do some idle homework. ○Now that I am haggard, are the flowers worth my sorrow? I'm as drunk as mud, I respect you so much, you're like a worm. When the book from the south of the Yangtze River arrives, the gulls and herons are still safe. Two wax clogs and a fishing coop, when will they really be returned to me?
took shelter from the wind and fled to Lao Gaoqiao City. I have been wandering for twenty years, full of spring waves and old feelings. The wind sings with the woodcutter, and I carry a cup across the fence. Cherish the meaning and see the branch nest. The time is free and the gull is happy. ○ Dust Fan Haijiao, there is no doubt that there are no traces of cutting. The old man's family has a single tree, and it is difficult to continue the red plum blossoms and colorful topics. The sky is heavy with frost, and the heart of the old mountain is haggard. Three acres of house, five lakes and sails, I'm afraid of talking about Tu Qiu's plan.
The light curtain is lifted four times, and the moon is lifted early. Hungry mosquitoes are buzzing around my temples, little hazy, and garden crows are urging me to wake up. It rains on the eaves, and the robes are rolled up by the red beams. New wine cup, short lamp. Cooking makes Qiu Xiao laugh. ○The coolness of the sun covers your hands, and the light shines dimly. Constantly in the heart of the old mountain, blown by the west wind, it grows old year after year. Feihong will dream of climbing to a high building overnight. Carrying a jade flute and asking about the golden stem, no one knows the meaning.
[Jiangdu Chun]
The east wind is turning, the strange fragrance is thin, and the cold is still lingering. Missing the beauty of the mirror, it is neither flowers nor mist. The old love is leisurely. Furong didn't believe it hurt Chunqian. Resentful of the red building, desolate into double bends. After Mengyun returned, he was busy embroidering and picking orchids. ○Unexpected. Near the bottom of Pingshan Mountain, there are traces of sadness and tears stained by alcohol. Broken spectrum and careful business, the Qin Zheng leaning column and the dust are dim. The heart of spring has no one to care for overnight. Bear him the bright moon and the sad cuckoo. When Guigong was ashamed for several years, half of the millet was exposed.
[Jinmingchi]
The silk is split and the waves are flowing, and the clothes are called to the couple. The road to Yaochi is very close. The dust is gone, the ice box is half unfolded, and Lu is crying slightly. The powder has not faded. What year is it? Brocade and silk threads occupy the painting. Thirty-six Pi Fang news. Looking at the pavilion leaning against the cover, there are countless mandarin ducks, but no one from Lingbo is allowed to ask. ○ The westerly wind twists and turns every inch, looking for the intoxicating fairy juice, and the blue tube draws deep. The dance of neon clothes is repeated tonight, and the shadow of tears will be blown away tomorrow morning. I am full of lovesickness and beauty, but my empty house is empty and my stone scales are filled with hatred. I'm afraid that at the top of Yujing Peak, the moon is dim and the smoke is pale, and the green is damaged by the lingering fragrance.
[Great Holy Music]
Indulge in wine and make-up, touch the stele gallery and be quiet, Brahma Spring Festival Gala. Remembering old travels, wearing hats on the west railing, living up to the beauty of one's own work, and looking at it with both eyes. The warm jade leans against the clouds and is delicate and weak. It touches people's places and fills their sleeves with the fragrance of heaven. Forgetting to go back, the oil curtain was half-opened, and the sun was setting in the courtyard. ○The orioles are worried and have short dreams, but in one case, the beautiful garlands urge them to change. In the cool rain near the stone building, the disabled monk also said that the agarwood has new resentments. The east wind spectrum of Luoyang is wet with tears. I am afraid that it will be exhausted and become a deer garden withered red. The city is full of hatred, but also melancholy, and the shelter from the wind is shallow.
[Two Songs of Emperor Tai Chun]
Fang Xiao’s twists and turns, the old life of a flower farmer. The Grain Rain is half sunny, the embroidered sills are scrambling to move, and the palace clothes are slightly taken off. Putting the hat in the hand and passing the note with a smile, all the entertainment, thanking the man and chanting the bag. Even now, the waste green and flat smoke can only be smelled. ○The dusty shadow is glimpsed, and the eyes are confused. Tears piled up, stained with cuckoo blood. Afraid of the greedy tail, the beauty of the year is close to the setting sun, the weather is not right, it is easy to say goodbye. What's more, the east wind's roads have changed from the old ones. There is only a piece of Qiongtian left, and the people of Miaochun are Luo.
The bamboos on the hills are yellow, and the auspicious clouds are shining in the southern country. Autumn is clear in Yinghai. I heard that this year, the peaches will begin to bear fruit. Fortunately, Jin Ying's exposed place persuades people to get drunk, and the springs in Lixiang are clean. Talking about Chunhui, Zishe's mood is stimulated by Yunfan. ○The hall is bright and colorful. Standing on the wings of the phoenix, the forehead is charming. From the Forbidden City, Immortal Lang returns in colorful clothes, and wishes you a warm spring in Antarctica. It is expected that the Yaotai genealogy family celebration will be held, and the fragrance will be poured into the golden cup to warm the immortal liquid. I pay my respects to my mother every year, and I recognize the curtains of veils and clouds.
[Eight Convicts and Jade Crossing Branches]
The dusty grits are desolate, the frozen Suxiang is fragrant, and there are clusters of light shade and double frames. The curtains are rolled and the branches are red to the eyes, and the vicissitudes of old hatred are lingering. Spring Festival Gala every year. For the flowers, the piano is honored, and the title is also happy to be in the hometown. The green birds at the bottom of the leaves are used to listening to the sweet words of tea. ○Who walks in the east wind, and the green clouds fade. The butterfly and bees are so heavy that they should be surprised. Junyou changes, whose family is happy. The water is inexhaustible, and the pavilion is full of smoke and smoke. Just dance outside the flowers and have nothing to say. The person holding the rose weeps at the widow's night. When Qin Lang is sober from drinking, the jade paper is wet with tears and sad, making it difficult to write.
[Dream Hengtang]
Fishing in the autumn snow, walking in the slanting sun, the coolness of the wild pond is beginning to set. The shadow has disappeared, replaced by pu barnyard grass and spring waves. Who will move the low boat? Sitting alone in the short boat, I feel alarmed by the frost on my temples. I am confused again, and I am making new sorrows, and I still drift to Xianchi Pavilion. ○Microwaves do not pass through the tide, causing dust and turbulence, and the cold catkins are very thin. The west wind rolls the leaves, gently blows in, and makes several mournful horns. Don't even ask, who can trust the wild geese in the rivers and lakes? Cangzhou in the dream is generally clear and shallow, with red mulberry flowers falling.
[Three Songs of Night Flying Magpies]
The east wind carries people away, inviting you to step into Chanyuan, and your beauty shines in the Zen sky. The flower palace brings the test, the little man's face is flushed and blushing. Qingcheng is speechless, as if her makeup is thin, her hair is in a bun and she cries frugally. The green seal begs again, and the setting sun still protects the pearl banner. ○What's the matter? Wan Shu is so delicate and sleepy that she has nowhere to go and asks Xingyun, the twelve witches and servant girls. It is said that the flat spring is like a dream, just like human and heaven, it is replaced by a beautiful garland. The old hatred of Jincheng is reflected in the poetry of Biji Square. The late night is left alone, with tears on the copper plate and candles, and the sad companionship of the golden fairy.
Cangbo is relieved, and the boat is returning gently, and the wind leaves are scattered in the cup. A guest's pillow in the autumn. After waking up from the drunkenness, I climbed up and opened my tired eyes again. The wild smoke is clear and the sky is full of fragrant flowers and trees, and the air of the sea is breathtaking. Ice and ice danced, calling Ninglong to look directly at Penglai. ○How many red mulberry trees are like arches? I asked with a bonfire pen what year it was, and was it really possible to cut the bead cliff? If you don’t believe that Qiujiang sleeps peacefully, your whale-catching skills will linger forever. The sun sets on the flag, turning thousands of mountains into ashes. And the west wind brings the cranes chirping, causing alarm at night, and the waves come with hundreds of twists and turns.
The golden wave warms the leaning man, the flowing light shines on the Pingshan Mountain, and the birch candle disperses the cold smoke. The beaded curtain is about to go up, and the beauty is gone. Whose house is this tonight? When the windows are filled with clouds and mist, neon clothes are dancing wildly, and the sky is changing. Riding the wind and sweating, I asked Qionglou how it looked like the human world. ○The fairy ax of the troubled Gui Palace, the seven treasures are still in Lingxu, adorning Chanjuan. Outside the fence, the autumn fragrance weeps and the dew falls, and the moving plate clears the tears, disappearing the golden fairy. Guanghan Palace is a palace, for fear that Chang'e will not be allowed to linger. Who can share the lonely light? It can’t be used as a lamp, looking north is desolate.
[Linglong Four Offenses and Three Poems]
The old clogs and teeth are fragrant, the dust and gauze are left with ink, and things are like water. The smoke and moon are in my old home, and I can stand leaning on the railing. Under the shadow of self-pity, there is an east wind, accompanying people to tears. In my dream, Chanyuan, the orioles and butterflies who survived the calamity, knew what I wanted to write. ○Looking forward to the return of spring from the end of the world. Ask Xun Xiangdu Qu, who will understand the new hatred? Seeing that poetry and wine are thinning, it should be connected to the sound of cuckoo. Don't hold candles in the Western Garden at night, but climb and pick ordinary peaches and plums. Must remember. Spring roots are there, and the old ground is red with thousands of flowers.
Wu Mian has not been reduced, and he is sleeping in the West Garden. The news reminds him that he is late. There is smoke in the stove on one sleeve, the long pavilion is filled with sadness, and the sky outside seems to be dark and gloomy. Feeling cold, return to Yan in front of the society. Ask the mirror edge how many lead tears, do not thank the bridge dust points. ○The cries of green birds illuminate half of the mountain screen. The harbinger of spring is gone and the catkins are in front of you. The red building has embroidered foil and floating lanterns at night, and the east wind is light. In the dream of cooking sick bones, it is gradually no longer the case. There is no choice but to wait for the appeal, and the new voice is astringent and uneven.
The water dream is cold, the flowers are covered with frost, how can the gulls pass away in the sky? Count the green peaks and make shadows, and the wine washes away the ancient Wu Tai. He Lang's old love has not yet been revealed. There is also an east wind and a painting of boats in Yanpu. The spring soul is filled with tears, the socks are dusty, and the old jade dragon is bitter. ○The traveling clouds fill Chuihong Road. Reminiscent of the sparse fragrant steps, low bun to welcome the door. Come and go with Luo Xiu, and fly away from the cold as soon as possible. The clear song is at ease in the world, sending off leisurely travelers and secluded spring travelers. Sad message.There is no one to spare, and the old couple wears their skirts.
[Desolate criminal]
Qingqin resentment enters. After the west wind, the dust condenses and the ice ropes are broken. Whether the big move is good or not, the river sky is late, and there are several mourning horns. The dragon's anger is evil. Thousands of miles of darkness, the heart of the countryside is thin. Strange fluttering waves, broken ink on the streams and mountains, and a wild goose crossing the empty desert. ○My heart is broken, Tong Jun is not there, I occasionally have dinner with the clouds, and I feel more sad and happy. Therefore, the mountain dream is short, the strings burst out and the mausoleum shakes down. A reed stretches the edge, and the material Xifa sings and the soul falls in love. Listen to the sound of pine trees, Nanari Seo, and break the Old Testament.
[Yu Jingqiu]
is full of fragrance. There are old orioles and swallows in the joyful place, dancing and singing. The wind is full of emotions, and I am worried about the flowers and leaves of books. A wonderful score of "Red Teeth", recorded as a reminder of the feast. Farewell to tiredness. The next year, I was filled with regret, and I talked carelessly over the cup. ○It’s not about being arrogant and cowardly. Writing about the heart of the piano, the six pieces are gradually missing. The broken dream tower, the middle-aged silk and bamboo, can't help but decline. In the Year of the White Turtle, it is still a sad time to resolve grievances and Tianbao. The sound of the flute swallows, who is leaning against the palace wall under the dark moon?
[Thirteen Songs to Congratulate the Bridegroom]
Frozen feathers peek into the cold layer. At dusk, the sound sounds like complaining, and the dust of musk deer is frightened. The powdery terrace is full of lovesickness at night, and the skinny and fairy-like posture is green. Gradually tears drop, Yin Shen Hong Shu. No one has swept the corals all over the ground, occupying the frosty sky and hurting the spring weather. Shadows in the sky are against the remaining candles. ○The moss-covered servant girl is still decorated with jade. When asked, the palace makeup is applied on the forehead, and the mirror alliance is repeated. How many Feiqiong have been hated for years and written down in the remaining pages of Cangzhou. Afraid of being restrained by the east wind. The road in front of the snow-scented pavilion is left in the cold, and I exchange green birds and listen to ecstasy. The intestines are broken, and the bamboo is stuck.
The boat equipment of the lower palace. Next to the Cangjiang River, I have been lying there for many years, and the west wind is traveling alone. Not close to the center of the game, there is still no way out. Winning in vain, Lan Cheng Ci Fu. The ink on the sleeves is dripping with tears in Shenzhou, even if Han Ling and Pian Shi are poor, they can't sing, and their single silk threads are bitter. ○There is no good place in Zhuxi. Just whispering, the cuckoo bows again and bows his head. The air of the sea is desolate and the dragons are evil, and I am tired of crossing withered chaffs. There are still dreams, and the lamp bed is windy and rainy. Distributed to follow the affairs of the Ming Dynasty and asked Jiang Qian and Oulu if they were safe. Must be rewarded, ruler fish element.
The dangerous building is exposed. Looking at the Central Plains, the sculptures are nowhere to be seen, but the green mountains are rising. The west wind across the sea stirred up the dust and rolled it into the dead leaves of Guan Yu. It is still covered and fixed, and the floating clouds are clear and extinguished. The road ahead of the Thirteen Screens of Beacon Light shines on Wu Lu and Zhi Who's Moon, and Liao He is whimpering as he speaks. ○We heard spring thunder coming from the corner of the palace. It's always hard to wake up, I'm dreaming about ten continents, I sit and read in the mulberry field. The unjust bird with a stone in its mouth cannot bear the cold, and its eyes are full of autumn whale scales. No wonder, it was the first calamity of Kunchi. It is common to hide a boat in a gully, but I am afraid that the yellow and yellow pillars will touch the common work and break it. The sky is leaning against the sky, and the sword is broken.
count the rain in the fence. The wet years are like dust and dreams, and the sound of wild geese is about to disappear. The autumn moon is misty and hazy, and the moss flowers are hidden in the evening steps. More clothes, cold and cold. The chrysanthemums in Mofei's hometown are crying, accompanied by lonely clouds, and the old man is lying on the Cangjiang River at dusk. With this intention, he asked the gulls and herons. ○ Yingying Yishui was speechless. As time goes by, the sand is dim and the rocks are cold, who will control the old alliance? Try to look down at the clear ripples and take a look at the faded temples, which still carry ten years of dust. All that is left is opposition and charming. All things are done together, but I am just lazy, and I support the bamboo pole and count all the trees in the east of the pond. When the crows rise, who will they dance for?
hands plant forward trees. With a virtual corridor and a corner of the setting sun, people who read it are speechless. I begged to my neighbor in the west for the axe, and he once shared the dragon's pardon to get it. Look at how the jade stands and the pavilion look like. Today, as I leave the silver bedside, I ask Gu Gen if he is willing to go near the dragon gate. One leaf after another, fighting against the wind and rain. ○The crickets cry and complain to each other. Speaking of the past year, the reds and greens are miserable, but who is in charge of the good autumn? The ground is covered with frost and the sky is white, and the phoenix perched on the ground is lost in the place. It is considered clean and still has my soil. Sitting in sleep clears the yin and clears things, and it is necessary to keep the roots firmly cultivated during the cold years. This is the intention of the alliance, and the pure wine is pure.
No wonder I am declining. Counting Alien and Zuo Huxuan, they are all on the same level. The life of the lake and the sea is light, and it is quite disappointing for the cold night. Trace back the hatred, the gorge flows and the water flows. There is still a room in Cangjiang that can be arranged as soon as one sleeps, and the wind and rain are combined with the bed plan. The autumn colors are here, and the geese are flying. ○The fragrant clouds of seal script are rising. Wait for discussion, return to the heart and ask questions, listen to and think about the great master. How close is Tiaoshan's house? It's just a hut and a stone field. And cause trouble and get drunk on local cuisine. The four seas are born from the true key. After many vicissitudes of life, it is difficult for brothers to laugh at themselves. My intention is to entrust you, Xiaoshan Gui.
is used to being drunk on longevity wine. It is the predecessor, Anqi flying boat, floating hills and sleeves. Ding Ding has been lonely for hundreds of years, willing to hold his claws on his hands. Ask whether Yingying and Erhao know. It goes without saying that Mingke's subtle principle is that three cups and two cups will end up being too much. Hold this intention for your longevity. ○Xianjun has nothing to do but a rhinoceros head. Everything is suitable, thousands of games are measured, and the flowers are in full bloom every day. It is not necessary for generations to realize this joy, it is rare for people today. The sun is shining brightly, and the gardens are like embroidery. The truly healthy people in the Four Seas will stay together forever with their white hair and red cheeks. He even danced to Hua You.
is released from the sky. In this area, there is chaff, dust, and dirt, and there is no sign of self. As a guest of Fenghuang Pond, my colorful brushes have had a great time.But win and look forward to it forever. The world has changed and the clouds have changed into thousands of states, but the old mountain, the ape and the crane are still intact. Qualification said, the five lakes are beautiful. ○Senior style and long pine-like appearance. I am envious of this dynasty, and the purple zhi is enough to nourish itself. Whoever plays the song "He Nan Fei" will be the king of gods and immortals. It looks like a pedestrian, and the jade mountain is bright. This old man has no loose chest, he laughs, chats, and even sings loudly. If you don't use it, just brew it in a urn.
is not a master. Geng rest, the pine breeze is full of listening, the prime minister in the mountains. When you are excited, you can pick it up like a magic pen and realize the fragrance of crossing the river. It is inevitable to look at Gao Qiu in despair. I wish that all sentient beings and me will be fine. Ask around for free, and the seeds of medicine will grow. ○Don’t think it looks like dead wood. There is no need to use it, and Ji will give rise to high opinions, and the Tao function can be cultivated. When it comes to mending the sky and filling the sea, Ze Zhi is still the God King. When asked, the three lights will be bright again. Half drunk, every time I look at the Nandou, I can feel the west wind blowing in the waves of wine. All sorrow is gone, worth a thousand wines.
is self-explanatory. According to the arrangement and Huang's annotation, the bones are sour and cold. This piece is most suitable to be placed in a hill and valley, and is not called Lingyan's portrait. There are scattered buns and slanted hairpins facing each other. Let’s pay homage to the San people’s new call to arms, hoping that the world will be safe forever. Cangzhou is interesting and the days should be long. ○The headscarf is too lazy to follow the example of the Zhou family. Accompanying the princes, Yin Zun cooks and makes offerings with smoke from the furnace. Li Saoxu drinks heavily with his hands, and the wine is hot in his ears and the king of gods is drunk. Even more rare, the situation is cheerful. When Er'anqi's spiritual energy is exhausted, nothing can shake Wulingyuan. Walk with the load in hand, sit down and pour the wine.
puts the dragon and snake with bare hands. The land of pain sinks, Shenzhou appears, and the devil changes his form. I advise you, Changxing, to have a glass of wine, and what will happen to your eyes? There is a thread and a spear to look forward to. How many new pavilions have shed tears and asked who is okay with the rivers, mountains and scenery? Sorrow is like grass, but the strokes are still long. ○The buildings are renovated everywhere. Man Pingzhang and Boyi Pirates are raised by talented people. Whoever wants you to come and take care of your affairs will be king in about three chapters each. Can't wait to see the sky clear and sunny. Whoever destroys a beautiful home will lose his gold, silver, energy and sky. Eliminate the day's plan and rely on the wine.
kills orchids with one arrow. Through the curtain, the faint fragrance accounts for the break, and the fragrance smells of treasure. If you want to write about love, you have no time to write, and the empty valley will disappear for a long time. Exhibition of Hunan mat, ripples full of hope. Listen to the rain and sleep alone in the Wangyou Pavilion. The smoke of the medicine and the wind calm the person's slight illness. If the water leaks, it will wax and wane. ○My worries are still the same as ever. Let him lose, open and close the Taoist books, and make offerings to the wells and flowers. It’s good to return to your roots and stay happily, why bother with the King of Dansha Qi? With only two eyes left, I can read and read books. A volume of frost-covered fragments of music reverberates in the human world and in the hearts of autumn scholars. Press again to shoot and try brewing.
As soon as the boat was released, it was arranged and anointed with spring stones and dust. Yuan Yutang waved his hand, but Jia Rang was the one who made the three strategies. The scene of the carved silk and the announcement of the house is in the foreground. Huge waves whipped up the sky, and the wind roared, and the sails were gathered in good condition. Go back and get it, the water and clouds will grow. ○The courtyard steps are like Qi Chun Miao. Who can be more like, Dihua and Wei, Zhilan Jingshuang. Regardless of the family heirloom secrets, the king of Zhu Yan is the king. Be sure to forget and follow the immortal battle. Leading his disciples to produce sons, they have baskets and carriages, but do not use ivy sticks. Cranes flying south, singing for you.
[Two Flute Songs under the Moon]
The ruins are used to live in smoke, the clear bells are in the dark, and the place where they used to be is the place where they used to be. The sound of sand birds is soft, still in love with the coming and going of the east wind. Bu Wu is sad first, and hates the rain regardless of the sky. I patted all the fences, the lonely clouds disappeared, and the mountains were speechless. ○Emotions. The setting sun sets at dusk. Don't worry about the end of the world, old gulls and new herons. After years of no travel, the feeling is miserable again. It's not a spring disease before the flowers. I asked the wandering warbler next to me if I have ever? To be sued, Geng Lang has only one heart, a poplar tree is declining.
The cold moon is overcast on the wall, and there is a sad and sad sound, speaking for autumn. When I listen to you, I feel sad and have no thoughts. The empty steps are full of sadness, and the lights are dim and the rain is cut off. In the middle of the night, winds are everywhere, and the frost string is trailing alone, urging the dawn. ○ Worry about mistakes, trapped in gold. The long door is accompanied by fallen leaves, and the letter on the pillow is vague. After weaving, the old home is in disarray. The cold west wind changes the human world, how many times have I asked the haggard king and grandson? After all, Pan Langfa has changed, who should I send my dream to?
[Tail offender]
A flute is falling in the plum breeze, the empty hall is empty at night, and the thoughts of spring are floating over. The door is covered with agarwood, and the lanterns are decorated with flowers. At the end of Gui Yan's reign, Wen Liang did not sweep, but he was shocked and all the empty strings were broken. The old love has no basis, and as old age passes away, there is only a sigh. ○Qin Zheng surrounds the embroidered house. He should be unsolved and hate to say goodbye. The grass is dim and the smoke is dim, and I miss the vastness of the sky. Counting past events, uneven flowing water, patting railings, clearing lead and dark knots. Tired people and melancholy are not always surrounded by the moon.
[Two Songs of Flowers on Moshang]
The caged oriole awakens, Pingshan is still asleep, and the Spring Festival Gala is in front of us. After a while, I sold it to Xie Niangchi Pavilion. What's the use of Xifang's note? The east wind outside the flower is broken. The new yin is not yet stable, there are countless tears, and the dream clouds drift away. ○ I am thin due to longing for love, my palace waist is a little wider, but my clothes are half as wide. It may not be the end of the world, but it’s time to think about the cold and the warmth.Over the years, the zither hand has been damaged, and the dust is covered with thirteen golden geese. The sorrowful strings are lingering beside me, the green window is full of sunlight, the old love is so lazy.
The poplar flowers have all fallen, the moss has eroded, and the dust has condensed. Biyi's soul returns, the ice pillow is stranded with tears. Where is Dai Chun when the servant girl is gone? Nineteen years have been spent in vain. The most unreasonable thing is thousands of miles away, and the new practice turns into a fairy. ○The flower inscriptions are covered with grass, and the wild geese are cut off in the cold weather. They are just called listening to the wind and rain. The beautiful shadow is in the high Tang Dynasty, and the incense ashes return to the soul without any evidence. Bieluan composed a thousand qin music in vain, Meng Leng only played one string and one column. Caolili gives away, just like Yangzhou, jade fishing slopes.
[San Shumei and Four Songs]
On Qingsi Hengyuan Road, it is dimly lit at the end of the forest, and smoking is still prohibited. Calling guests mountain birds, wandering and feeling tired, exploring words and phrases about spring. The wild water is sharp, leading to new steps across the bank. Jiuhuan is dim and dim, with only plum blossoms, which seduce people's mood. ○It is the fragrant travel that lightens the burden. The small calyx is left sparse and the hairpin is left. Who will protect the frozen fragrance? The dream is familiar with Xifeng, and the clouds are wet with hatred, and the spring elements are secretly condensed. It's very sad, but it also arouses jealousy and makes people jealous. Asking for news from Xiangtai, the wind chimes whisper.
After a cold meal in Jiangcheng, it is difficult to pour out the deep respect, and the sorrow is like wine. The dream traces the tower, half the willows are withered and the flowers are haggard, and the spring embroidery is dark in the dust. Sitting on the dark curtain, you can see the shadows of your steps and smell the red fragrance three times. The golden strands are gone, and the empty branches are picked, and the jade fibers are exposed through the ice. ○The Yaohua in the sky have not been together for a long time, I am holding Qin Zheng in my arms, and the bright sun is shining thinly. Tears rained down the window, Jing Luan saw it with his own eyes, and his eyebrows were full of illness. It is taboo to say that it is cold in spring, so take it into consideration and rely on your high sleeves. Ruining the empty pear garden, Dongfeng admits it?
The lantern-burning season has passed, the river is cloudy in spring, and the plum blossoms are in the sky. Stepping on the dark smoke, I can remember the traces of the old words, lying drunk with the red maple. Tired of empty mountains, travel plans are repeated, and the east wind opposes them. The traces of cooking poems, the falling rain and the Wu cup, make people wake up and sit down. ○My life experience is full of flowers and sorrow. I want to make a date with a leisurely gull and eliminate the dust by myself. The snow is old and the waves are deserted, and the flutes are left with their thoughts, and the birds are crowing. Thinking of farewell hurts spring, but spring is already here. Don't send thousands of empty branches around, Yaotai dream lock.
The leisurely fragrance brightens the tired eyes, and the remaining cold forest pavilion is half-way through the spring. The smile is near the pond, revealing the old peach clothes, avoiding people's make-up. Standing in Yanxiang, flowers and letters change with the east wind. The wild water is scaly, but it is not as good as the golden cup, and the tea is deep and shallow. ○ I can get used to climbing up the stairs anywhere, so I can take the cold weather with me and feel sad and relaxed. To repay the scenery, I need water and smoke every time, and small poems to search for. Soft feet are fragrant, the moon is bright, and branches are lazy first. After sitting for a long time, the sunset is more beautiful than ever, and the wheel of return is turning.
[Two poems cited by Brahman]
The sloping bridge is fluffy, and the red stains are dotted with heavy hay. The careless oriole still talks about the end of spring. I heard that Lingbo's new steps cut off the embroidered dust. Use wax lamps and belts to fight for leisure. ○Chang'an beauties. Even if you wake up drunk, you will always be confused. The east wind does not care about the mess, it only avoids the flowers and anger. Wave curtains are green, dreams linger, and clouds rise on the embankment of lovesickness. The appointment between hairpin and mother always worries about the root cause.
The gauze scarf is tired, and the wind around the pond is making ice sheets. The city is cold and rainy. The curtain is rolled up in the sky and the mirror is made up in the evening. Nai Lin wakes up to Yu Yan, but is still jealous of leisurely feelings. ○The green floor of the south building. Stay away from being drunk and walk on the sand. Before the Qin Master's short dream came to an end, the sound of the bamboo flute was startled away. It's cool in the community beside the gulls, and it's dragging, and the autumn heart is half the garden. Fragrant scroll ink, self-display Luo Ping.
[Green cover dances in the wind]
A piece of cake calms the storm, tired eyes come on, and the dangerous fence faces the horizontal veil. The cool flute prolongs the autumn, the rivers and lakes have not returned yet, I am lightly drunk and leaning back. After the disaster, the soul chanted, and it was tied by the quilt and Pingsi. Dressed in red, the west wind blows across the shore, urging the autumn pistils to fall. ○Bottom of the cup. I am so lonely and happy, I can make clear waves by looking at my shadow, and wash away the dust on my short temples. The wine enters the lapel traces, and the good intentions are exchanged for the leisurely tears of old years. In Cangzhou in the dream, I don’t even believe it, and I have no roots. People crossing the river are sold out to see the heroic spirit of the flowers.
[Jiaozhao]
After seeing you off, Cangjiangwan and Wangfeng scratched their heads several times. The cold news in Yanbian is funny. Poyi Laofeng, when you are tired of traveling. The end of the world is not lost. Afraid of losing, there are weeping willows all around. There are plain rocks and clear springs. Nai Jinxi is in love with the jade, and there is no wine to clear away the sorrow. ○Do you know? The dust is rising. Yige cried in the wild, and the setting sun suddenly faded. Geng Lang's soul has been broken for a long time. Bursting into the south of the Yangtze River, the jade dragon mourns. Together with the frost. There is only a touch left, but the eyebrows are still the same. Mengyan swallows the candle in the west window and loses weight. Waiting for Shang Lue, white gull's heart, and heart.
[Cai Lv Yin]
Nephrite Wu Bolu, the painter points the pen, and the style is clear. There is smoke outside the flute, and the clear mirror is silent. The two mountains are constantly green, the sun is setting late, and several rows of birds are flying across the sky. The stream is rolling, the lotus song is faint, and the moon is rising again in the edge of the lake. ○ Throwing away the water essence palace, the dream of the end of the world and the rhombus silk stir up thousands of hectares. Autumn in the 30s, but tears are coming after smoke. Shi Shizhen, joined the old Jianghu, forgot about his opportunity, and decided to form a strategic alliance with the White Ou League. The sails returned by mistake, the frost fell on the temples, and the remaining guests were in Maoling.
[The Two Songs of Jie Yuan]
The voice of the wild goose flies with sorrow, gradually changing to Qin Xianzhu. It seems that it is shaking off, and Gracilaria is traveling by mistake.Who knows if we have been separated for a long time? The brocade paper is overlapping and sealed, and the dream cloud has no basis. ○I am complaining, but there is still a difference between two feathers. The east wind stares behind the curtain, how many times I am ashamed, the water chestnut flowers are so charming. Seeing the ruins of the Cangbo painting, I broke the konghou at night and persuaded the public not to cross.
Yanshengsan low river pavilion, back to Chuihong Road in the evening. The simple sentiment leaves, Wu Bo breaks the clouds and gathers them together. It still lingers in my heart for a while, leading the cup and flute to stir up the west wind, sending autumn away. ○Standing still while chanting, I am waiting for the Gongqingzhi to call out. Fairy birds lead quiet steps, dreaming of wildflowers and grasshoppers, and they come and go with a leisurely mind. You listen to the sounds outside, and sing songs with others tonight. I am sick and worried about the rain.
[Six poems with red lips]
Lift the west wind, drunkenly support a cuckoo with a small soul. Mistaken flowers and doubtful grasses will damage the autumn manuscript in a different way. ○Peeping a smile on the east neighbor, the palace makeup is good to relieve jealousy. Qiuniang felt that Qian's skirt was upside down and it was too early to clean up her beauty.
Dan acupuncture points are spring-like, and it is good to support the roots and fall in love with Zhu Lan. No matter how much fragrance you hold, your dream will be stable in Qinlou. ○The dossier is newly reprinted, and Magu's claws are thin and damaged. Autumn makeup is here, and the guard in the palace is red and small, coming to accompany the flower room.
I pushed the pillow and wandered around, and opened the tent for a few bursts of bright rain. It's raining just now, and the mountains are ringing with the cuckoo's voice. ○To cherish the world, urge the barbarians to leave. Lingbo is jealous, sitting in countless places, his heart is on Qingdun Road.
The bright snow falls through the window, and Xiaomei’s makeup is washed off for the first time. The wind blew up when I was testing the lantern, and the clouds drifted to pieces. ○If you miss the lottery, you can talk about all the things in the world. Sadness is like water, the blanket is cold in the morning, and the sound of spring arrives in the eaves.
turns into ashes, and there are many desolate things in it. The wax plate turns red and sheds tears at dusk. ○If the cup is empty due to leakage, we have to take pity on you. You don't know yet, the red has changed to green, and it's still the land of the east wind.
The lamp is dark and the spring is dark, and the flower inscription is empty and the Yao thoughts are gone. The ring is intact, and the dream ends with the sound of the wind. ○Ten years of Jiang Chun, and Yi Tao Gen Piao. Fairy clouds go, leaving people melancholy, troubled by thousands of silk nets.
[Lanling King]
actually has a white head, the same color as the autumn frost in the bright mirror. The dew and smoke are shaking outside the wasteland, and the chaotic spring bushes are replaced by sad green. Know the taste of rivers and lakes. The tired flute is played on the low side of the prison. After dusk, I feel sad in the distance, like the tide is coming and the night wind is rushing. ○ Yiren’s old travels. On the day of buying drunken fish, the branch gull. Lianghua Asase Autumn Wuji. The wadding on my clothes is stained by the wetness, and my resentment sinks into the bamboo tube. When I leave the clothes, my dream is lost. Even life experience prohibits it. ○Jiang Guo. Waiting for rest. I'm afraid that the smoke will be like a painting, the lead and ink will be cracked, and the sound of geese will break in the dark. There are thousands of hectares of dark snow, and I can't hold it. Where are the wild vines? It’s about the end of the year, but I can’t remember them from sleep.
[Eight Poems on Willow Branches]
Old dreams blow with flowers on the Wei Bridge, new worries turn to tears and ask about Xianggao. The people on the banks of Yongfeng Square are extremely romantic, dancing in front of people in the evening.
There is no main balcony, the sun is half setting, and the person in the flute is even more heartbroken when he leaves. The east wind has wiped out all the yellow spots in the palace, and the old makeup is being sorted out by Dingchou Luan.
is like the sound of cuckoos rushing all night, and the proud horses with green hair are broken into pieces. It has clearly fallen off the Jiangtan Road, but still dances softly.
The whole body is weak and weak, and the time is spent and the heart is broken. He spared no effort to serve Huan Xuanwu and saw the sun setting in Jincheng.
Gu Yuan's waist and limbs are light on the palm, and he is famous for riding horses on Hua Street. Don't be surprised when the oriole sings and it becomes cloudy early. If you plant it near Jinqiao, your eyes will turn blue.
Humanity is like a withered stalk, but no silk; it is blurred by misty rain and dragon pond. The east wind blows away the running ducks, which is better than the knotted calamus.
The flute blows flowers out of Bianzhou, and the long strips are pressed to death to fight against the soft wind. Jinfan healed himself and parted, no longer worried about the broken spring waves.
The snow and catkins harmonize with the spring, and the rooftops are broken by the singing dust in the daytime. The golden whip is divided into long branches, don't laugh at the old dancers in Zhangtai.
[Three Songs of Flower Convicts]
The roots of the city are crushed, the road in Lingbo is soft, and Concubine Qiong comes to the clear dawn. The frozen bird cries to sleep. Lin Ting is surprised by the shadow, and the fragrance is petite. Liu Si Juan pulls Qingming to arrive. And the smoke and ice cut off the marsh. Looking timid, taking new steps, the fragrance has changed. ○Drag the old friend to come in the cold, and the shadow of the pear will fall in front of the wind. Silk hair on the temples is cold, chatting with warmth and fragrant wine from frozen flowers. It hurts spring habits and makes people cry. How many times can we get drunk together before singing. Asking who is warm when you are thin or leaning on a barren fence, or who is boring when you are old and wary?
Shadow screen mountain, lamp lips whisper, the traces of spring seem to remain the same. No alcohol in the night hall. Who is the pity Yan to pick up the hairpin? The honey torch is guarded alone. I'm tired of sleeping lightly and I can't wait to see more leaks. Bullying people's sudden age. There are only three or two shallow plum blossoms and plum blossoms left, and the fragrance sticks to half of the sleeves. ○It is cold and steep outside the curtain. I asked first time whether the east wind in Langyuan would wake up. Fang news has changed, but I am still melancholy and thin. The sound of the flute and the laughter of neighbors behind my back make it easy to arrive, and the crows in the forest are frightened and disperse. The material on the mirror sill and the flying luan are astringent, and the new makeup is full of worries.
I am light and yin, E'e resents the fans, the east wind is intoxicating. Wan Shujiao looks at it. Hun has not composed all the fragrances, and has urged many beauties. The sky shines on the sea and the flowers bloom. Immortal clouds rise near the mirror. Ask the island guest, "How can I move my roots? My heart is thousands of miles away." ○ Flying south, I live in a safe place. It is a place where spring is hidden, and it is the best place to have a jade window. Fragrant dreams are stable, Hun is not envious, and Jiangdu is fragrant.The sorrowful heart drags, and the nightingale whispers, but it cannot be hidden, and it is adjacent to Yan Laili to the east. Obstacles are required, palace brocades are surrounded by ten, and golden bells are taken care of.
[Three Songs of Ridiculing]
Spring rain, spring rain, falling blue mist bilingual. The cloud screen is twice as cold, and Luo Yi is alone in the night. Late night, late night, I dreamed of Baochai downstairs.
Spring willows, spring willows, are they still green in the past? The east wind is approaching the road with thousands of silk threads, and it is frivolous to see people leaving. Farewell, farewell, the season of tears and single clothes.
Spring water, spring water, does not send idle tears. Time flies by year after year, and my heart breaks when I hear the song today. Broken intestines, broken intestines, and Tao are diseases that lead to deep sorrow and habit.
[Two Songs of Throwing Music]
A red building has a sloping castellation. Lingbo's hundreds of teams are as angry as the clouds. The wind filtering through the gauze carries the wonderful fragrance. Go up to the mountain and be Su Muzhai. To understand the mandarin duck's dream of living in jealousy, he can become a writer by grabbing Wu's soul from the net.
A miasma forest appears in Zhaoshui Guxu. People have three or five lychee yin. Gangshi dispersed at noon and the sound of the market subsided. The woodcutter talked at night about the profound meaning of the mountains. A leaf picked up the sound, startling the sand-headed black birds.
[Erlang Shen Ershou]
Tears and Lotus War. The rain is breaking green, and the clouds are falling. The butterflies are now dry in their cages, and the mandarin ducks are in the shade. They are reduced to the city bay, and the remaining paintings are still the same. Yaoyuan Lingbo Road washes away hatred, enters socks and dust, and stops changing. The cold Zen, a cassock, the earth, water and wind are priceless. ○Gossip. The vicissitudes of life are reflected, and the jade statue is poured out. Ask about beetle powder, poetry marks niches and barren moss, full of years, wild smoke is still annoying. There are three cold gulls in the west end of the dream, the two skies are full of resentment, and the moon is bright and far away in the night. I heard something outside the Brahma, the sound of the flute was intermittent, and people came and went.
mirror exchange. Avoid the Old Testament and cross the lake. Listen to the water and enjoy the empty rock, the smoke and birds are deep in the bamboo, just like a guest sitting on the edge of the river. In the past, when the poets were looking for the autumn land, they would be surprised and fell. Zeng Fan wrote famous Tang poems, excerpted sentences and other leisure homework. ○Nothing. Vimalakirti's sick couple lies down with pine roots. Ask your husband's house about the flying flowers, what's the matter in a hurry, and clean up the pure fruits of human and heaven. Holding a bun and leaning on it, relying on the quiet sound and money, you can win the incense in Dingzhong. The remnant geese are outside, the wind is rustling with reeds, and the wind gradually rises to send the gods to harmonize.
[Ruan Langgui's four poems]
The flying luan dances for many years, and the bronze flower is proud of its beauty. Autumn clothes are more likely to be cold last night, and crickets crow in the golden well. ○Waving brocade characters, throwing money, and drafting mountains and mountains. Zhi Chengchun is full of hatred for no reason, and the broken poplar urges him to go into trouble.
Shuixi Huase Shangqiang Village is separated from the stream by bamboos. The silk on the sideburns is enough for ten years of dust, and the flying spring clears the kerchief. ○Take thin strategy, manage the empty space, and look for stone warmth again. Waiting for people to return home with a smile every year, the spring mountain cleanses the body.
The night window opens the curtain timidly, and the lights dim. The cold moon is not with us at the fifth watch, and the shadows in the trees on the corridor are late. ○The story of Qing Dynasty, living in the green mountains, with wasted hair on the temples. Ten years of thoughts have entered Zhiyi, and the sound of wild geese will make dreams fly.
Thousands of stemless roots are hanging on the rock col, flying curtains and spraying snow. The wet clouds are twinkling and the cliffs are high, and the spring torrents dare not be bold. ○Yanshan Pavilion, floating water lanterns, No. 32 Youyuan. Who will call Luan Luan on the fairy road at night? The moonlight shakes the phoenix flute.
[Thirteen Poems of Nanxiangzi]
On the first day of the morning, at the west end of the water, no one came to hang the jasmine flowers. Huadi Jiaoge lives on the river, a mandarin duck couple, only going to the red sea and clouds.
The clouds are slipping, the fog is blooming, and I am returning home from picking tea on Xiqiao Mountain. A passerby at the foot of the mountain asked me a question, and he answered vaguely, his face flushed for a long time.
Sanshuikou, combined with Shuangjiang River, the painting wheel can sail lightly. A small breeze comes to the rudder tail of the ship, which brings happiness all year round. Money is spread among the waves during the day.
Luopuo is combined, the jade sand is clear, one peak sends you away and the other welcomes you. Sun and evening are soaked in the mist of the banyan tree, making it impossible to walk, and the sound of flying birds is like urging guests.
In Zhongsu Gorge, the night is cold, and people in Helinghuanzi are still idle. The passers-by rubbed the inlaid notes on the wall. The ape has not returned yet, and the misty hair on the temples and the wind on the hair are in the bright moon.
The flying birds are gone, the angry waves swallow them up, and there is no way to cut the blue clouds in the sky. Sitting horizontally on the cliff with bamboo stalks hanging down, the woodcutter is in harmony, and from time to time flying clouds pass by.
Wushi Ferry is crossed by several families. This year, there is less rain and autumn plowing has been delayed. The lean sun sinks into the stream, the hungry calf lies down, and there is no homework. At midnight, a fire burns on the edge of the rocks.
The rocky hair is left in the south of the Yangtze River, with a bun and a dowry. The rapid oar rushes through the waves to drive away the arrows, the boat is raised to see, and the water flow is like a big seal script.
Behind the pillow, before the sail is lowered, the guest's heart is lonely all over the river and sky. Who will pay the red paper folded in the hand, Cao Lang said, "I am a guest at a place where there are no wild geese."
The letter spreads to the end of the world, and the clear frost on the temples reminds me. The thick flowers in the post house have no intention of persuading me. The deep cup makes my leisurely sorrow fade away. ○If the tired eyes are open, the ancient Ge will smoke a small stick with a pair of smoke. He rolled up his unlined clothes and pushed himself up from the pillow, wandering around, as if there were soft words from Chunhong.
The plain wax ashes are smokeless, and the wind turns and the fireflies shine high on the rafters. Autumn disease is as nameless as being drunk, feeling sluggish and sleeping alone with a bed partner. ○The geese returned to the south after waking up from the dream, and the book from Liaohai settled down the next year. After all, the new sorrow can't be blown away, so I go fishing alone on the Cangjiang River beside the gull.
I can't sleep on the sick pillow, and I have hundreds of plans to dream about Xiaoan.At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring. ○The bottom of the song is in front of the respect, and the branches of flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
My way is true, no matter what, I can live with the thunderbolt. The competition is to regard the floating water as the water, rough and sparse, and recognize that there is no full tide in it. ○The electricity was exposed all over the body, and the mourning son Peng Keng was not special. Who can turn around when the strong wind blows? For a moment, he laughs and carries a lamp to illuminate the dark road.
[Two Songs of Complaints from Qing Dynasty and Shang Dynasty]
Manjiang sobbed towards the evening. Another strong wind blows. It seems that someone is returning to fishing, and the lanterns and lanterns are tied with cables. ○The rest of the isolated village is even more shady. As the night gets darker, who do you want to show your courage to? The sand moon is in the dark, and the wild fireflies are three or four o'clock.
The cool leaves are falling like rain. The lanterns on the shore are three to five. The west wind stirs with resentment, and the faint crow looks at you. ○The light radiator Hibiscus beeps. Over there, Huaqiao Zhuhu. It is forbidden to cut off the dust of love, and whisper in the night.
[Four Songs of Cave Immortals]
Freshly picked, warm rocks and clouds are left, and the fishing belt has double texts like vines. I want to loose coal and sell it at night, study and write about the sorrow, and the tears will condense in the jade bird's eyes when I rub it. ○Chongqing flowers are washed outside, small leaves are flying, and the cool green and fragrant ink pond is full. We are tired of being together and return to our clothes, just like Guan Luanjian, waiting for the autumn wave with heart. Then he cooks and cooks the red silk, sells it to Tiansun, and draws new grudges.
I have an unknown autumn illness. I have stopped drinking for three years, but I bought a dogwood bag for the ninth day. I also knew that this was not my land, so I forced myself to go upstairs and sit there until the sunset. ○ Thousands of floating clouds refer back to Chang'an, but they are fishing rod hands in the rivers and lakes. There is a westerly wind on my temples, and there is a lot of frost in my homeland. I am afraid that tomorrow the flowers will bloom and become thin. I want to ask whose home the beautiful autumn light will fall into? There is a solitary guest wandering around, leaning on his high sleeves.
The clothes are left in ruins, and there is no plan to travel quietly. The west wind blows from behind the city. When I lay down in Cangjiang River, my hair turned gray all over again. I didn't believe that the grains and millet were so separated! ○The penumbra of the Jade Tower in the sky is neither fog nor smoke, disappearing the old green eyebrows of the Western Mountain. Why is there more frost, three amphibious crows, and the setting sun outside the decaying willows? I am still willing to stay for a while for the sad people, but I only cry in Kunchi, with stone scales and barren water.
The bright moon shines brightly every year, shining brightly on the tall buildings. It's just that it's easy to feel melancholy at night. Even if Heng'e recognizes me, she won't be worried about anything, and her mind will fly towards the north sadly. ○ When I wake up from the wine, a black magpie rises, and a blue cloud appears, pointing to the void in the distance. Knowing that there was an early stage, I heard the sound against the shadow, as if I were separated by thousands of mountains. It must be believed that the Qiong Tower is very cold, and there are still people who are worried and looking at it with their white heads.
[Two Poems of Qinggong Spring]
The decaying battlements are holding smoke, the water in the dusk pavilion is calling, and the wild cuckoos are calling the near Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade casing are vaguely evocative of poets. The new tune is melancholy, and a spring of flowers is still fragrant and fragrant. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Thousands of tears drop in the air, and they cry out towards the cold plains. What's the point of being left alone? If you know the world, don't ask the disabled monk.
The jade seals the smoke, the cicada throws away her comb, and the phoenix nest spins in the dusk. The plum blossoms are flowing, the orchid screen is old, and the resentful toad does not shine on the solitary frown. The wadding and silk are messy, and they overlap and make people feel cold. The palace clothes have not yet been added, and the luanjian is urged to stop, and the thinning is really real. ○Acacia turned into fairy clouds, donated to Zhongzhou, and my thoughts were empty. I cry when I am hurt, I am worried about my spirit body, and I dream again without any reason. Looking for the fallen joy, I am crying tears of red silk mirror dust. The quilt lamp is dark, it is still the middle of the night, and the cuckoo is talking about the end of spring.
[Five Songs with a Slow Sound]
New flowers have changed the shore, drooping willows are clearing the waves, and the water and stones of the old home remain the same. Xiao Zu smells the root, and the wind and spring sound makes the Langgan. The empty hall is tender and cool, collecting rain, attracting the heart of autumn, and urging the gulls to occupy the side. The book will be offered forever, and the tea and fire will be continued, and the poems will be engraved on selected stones. ○In his later years, he was fragrant and empty, and was ruined by green yin, ripening golden pills. After a few days of precious bushes, I flew south over the bird's nest. Cangzhou's dream mark, where can I sleep on the screen? There is a green mountain with no way to go, next to the clear shade, I put on the mat and sleep in the dew.
The city marks are covered with smoke, the mirrors are fragrant and fragrant, and the patrol is far away from the red dust. It's not nearly dusk, there's no one around, and it's cold and green. To the west, there are two swallows from the old house, relying on the delicate and angry, and the new jealous eagle. Looking for a good place, the eaves are empty, the roofs are empty, and the corridors are empty. ○Who believes in hurting the tired guest in spring? Fei Lin spends his charming horse and worries about Wu Feng. The mood for a feast is strong at night with the lanterns floating. Respect the few people in front of me, and bear the east wind with tears. Before I woke up from pouring the wine on Zhen Cong, I fell into the charming clouds and fell into a dream.
After high school drinking, I went to the country to sing, and I traveled to the end of the world tiredly in the autumn wind. The sunset in Chang'an is covered by floating clouds looking to the west. I'm lying in Jinlou, shocked by the cold rain, the swallows leave their nests, and the guests haven't returned home. When the light is turned on, the water will be cut off to clear the sorrow, and the sick will see flowers. ○I am drunk and full of emotions, sighing at the traces of dust in ten years and my life experience. Personnel news, unbearable dream of Donghua. Geng Lang was mourning, and he was fighting at Jiangguan in a desolate manner. The poems and poems write it down late, relying on Wu Ruan, Wu and Huansha.
The cold flowers are abundant, the spring ponds are filled with continuous rain, and the lonely cicadas are singing lazily.Passing by the wine forest pavilion, autumn is welcomed everywhere. The feeling of mountains and rivers suddenly falls, the gate is closed, but the green pines are still there. Decorate the new view, sit next to the clear strings and send it quietly, the sky is dark and majestic. ○The dream breaks through the arrogant eyes of youth, and there is an old crane in the west mountain to guide the fairy trail. I have always made friends with the barbarians, and I have lost my singing tent every year. Borrowing people from the end of the world, Cong Guiman wanders around. Leaning against the railing to hide in the west wind, looking at the returning clouds, I still feel nostalgic for the old peak.
The singing coots are singing and the branches are empty, and the butterflies are blowing on the empty branches. People are sympathetic to each other. A piece of departed soul, the setting sun shakes dreams into smoke. The red part of the old inscription in Xianggou is spelled with forbidden flowers, and it looks haggard year after year. The cold news is urgent, and the shrine is playing mournfully, and the mourning cicadas are all shared. ○In the end, the oriole in the ancient nest has no distinction. It is flying into the golden well of frost and breaks the cotton. After dancing back to the wind, I realized that the grudges were unfounded. The sky is overcast in the cave, the waves are wide and the night is dark. I hate that Xiangsi is shaking, but I don't want to ask about the cuckoo in the empty mountain.
[Yue Huaqing Two Songs]
The birds crow at noon, and the smoke is clear. Autumn stars fell to the ground, and the wind shattered the sky. The spring flies and the clouds move to the side. On the back of the world, Qi Zhong Chu Liao, the Buddha's fire is deep, and the stone energy is facing the peaks, standing apart. The water sill in Xiaoliao was muddy, and I didn't notice the fish and dragon playing. ○One path to the rock stream. A solitary ape is deep in the cave, and he is frightened to sleep. Double torch sand bed, embroidered hair, Qiu Lian mirror committee. If you want to Li Yuan, talk about hoeing Zhike, go to Zen, there is no place for the beautiful monk. Hinaho. Remove the moss from the horseshoe and identify the character Kaiyuan.
The jade sound relieves the coolness, the forest falls in the evening, and the people on the curtain are singing the incense sutra. The haggard and round posture is covered with fine clouds. The dew is empty, the sky is cold, the trees are old and fragrant, and the painting railings are dark. Who saves. Ask about the small tribulations of mountains and rivers, how many afterimages there are. ○Gui Dianqiu is still awake. When he was about to complain to Fang Zhu, tears burst out from his eyes. I feel so sad about my widowhood that I can't help but feel miserable. Gradually throw away the old and colorful clothes, so that they can be released and the empty golden mirror will be broken. Listen to who is complaining, and wait for him to correct himself.
[Geng Lezi]
The jade hairpin wind blows, the luan fans the moon, and the needle-threading season is leisurely passing. There are candles in the cage, waiting for the morning glory, no one goes upstairs alone. ○On the road in front of the building, Gufan is watching the old man go again at dusk. Put the word "jin" on the golden shuttle. Light autumn brings dawn to the dawn river.
[Shaobian]
lives in Bantang. He is a half-monk and knows everything about life. The monk said, "Hey, I sat around and listened without any fuss." Lao Tzu said that truth begins with strength. There is etiquette. Hengyan does not tolerate being called old. How can I rely on my parents now? Pointing to Shan Lake in the sky, there are cold clouds in Bingshe, and Gaoyu's tears are as clear as water. Even if we can't swear to be together forever, how can we dare to respect our old mane? My friends are mourning, calling me but not naming me, and following my will. ○Hee. It’s so bad that I am weak. What's the taste of being an official for thirty years? My friend died on suspicion of guilt, and he can be remembered by carving the swan. A good smile to consult Zen, three lives to achieve fruition, heavenly relatives have no attachments and are brothers. Even if the bag is sealed and the millet is pressed, what was yesterday may not be what it is today. The remaining century-old houses are separated from Qingli. So he surrendered and returned to farming for no time. Making a futon also involves one’s life experience. With his mouth shut and his eyes wide open, he could discern the verses. But just follow the egret and pick up the gull's mate, and just show your composure. That's all that lives up to its name. As an old man, you will know when you encounter it.
[Three Poems of the Pipa Immortal]
Returned to the West Lake, not in time for the cherry blossom season. There is no solitary string in the air, and the voice of spring is filled with sadness. The orchids are dripping with tears, and the remnant cuckoos are afraid of getting wet with their cries, so their skirts are dusty. When you are drunk, your sails are lowered and your mood is high, and it is easy for you to lose your temper. ○Waiting for reminder, waist flute single shirt, taking advantage of Tiao Shui, the old moon in the east. Send lotus flowers to each other to express your kindness. Spring is getting old, and there is a lonely guest pillow. After ten years of hard work, it will be gone forever. But the flowers are floating in the river country, and the miasmatic sky is crying.
Return to plant peach blossoms, the clouds of Chu are full, and the fairy forest of my homeland is like valerian. The flute outside the forest calls to the bullock, and the spring mud gradually begins to cry and slip. There are tired travelers in Xiangxuyin and Jiangguan, and the road is wrong and the short thread is difficult to break. Settling down in Cangzhou, singing in the daytime, cherishing your beautiful hair. ○The old title sentence, the silver candle on the west tower, the dream dust, the east wind fades away. Who sends a drop of fresh water, sending flying flowers like snow. In the middle of the night, Wu Hong tried counting. Farewell to the bright moon and sobriety. The bottom line is thrown away, and the rumors are empty.
The remaining wine bids farewell to the spring, thousands of miles away, the grass on the bank is the same color as the robe. The separation thread is tired and knotted with soft poplars, and there is a trace of resentment against the travelers. The bottom of the velvet hat is swallowed by the wind, full of sorrow, and the clouds in the country are chaotic. The more silent the sound is, the more Wu Jiejun makes an appointment, we must remember this evening. ○ It's the wild sea, returning from wandering, it's so sad to say goodbye, the world is far away and the food is cold. The jade cup turned upside down is tasteless, bitter and the head hangs white. People are more lazy than Feihua. I'm afraid that next year my writing style will become cold. It's good to take advantage of the time of beetroot and armor, and the drunken people will be green again.
[Exploring Fang Xin]
The candle flowers are thin, and I asked if my shoulders, which are composed of poems at night, are cold and cold. The curtains are covered with lamps, and the sorrow is shed but the wine is snuggled up. The crow of small birds wets the dream of the West, half-fallen behind the east wind. Sit around, wander around, and watch the flowers bloom. ○Moss embroidery on the rock path is teasing the servant girl, and she is obsessed with books. The cloudy and clear weather is not yet stable, so I will explore the dowry and owe red beans. Who cherishes the beauty of the green eyebrows? Only the slender willow trees remain. The dark river city looks like black ink and Wuyun Manxiu.
[Magnolia]
The lanterns add wine to the west building. Farewell, I wake up from the drunkenness and hear the words from the end of the world. Tears separate the leaves behind the dawn curtain, and the full moon is obscured by the night mirror and sorrow. ○The paintings and calligraphy of lovesickness are extinguished in the bonfire, and the jade bracelet of hatred will never reach its destination. The rain left people alone in the spring, and the haggard east wind had nowhere to say.
[Ying Tianchang's Three Poems]
The whirling crows mess up the leaves, the geese drive away the clouds, and the curtain of the building is half-shuttered in the cool autumn. Avoid the idle situation in the wine shop, and the wind bed is full of diseases. Huanghua Society, urging Su Yue, recognizing the old hidden, Langfeng Kuanghe. The sleeves are messed up, I smell the cold fragrance, and I am too lazy to ask about my sorrow and joy. ○ It is a sad song that is useless. It is an old literary garden in the countryside, and the tune is gradually becoming less and less. Go and cross the river as a poet, sing alone as a mad medicine. Chaoyi Chongzhi is strong. In the dream of love, exploring spring. When I return home late, the post road is full of smoke, and I must send plum calyx.
The wind is full of creeping grass, flowers are blooming on the wrong road, and the water is late and the water is late. Yu Lang is old and desolate, and lovesickness is piled on paper. The thoughts of mourning, the questions and answers about saving, the cooking, and the chanting of bag boxes. When I return to my dream place, I smile at the clouds and send the sail leaves away. ○We hold each other together for the past year with a cold heart, enjoy the old with new joy, and the clearest hair outside the strings. Making fun of Duanhong's traces, the cool breeze stirs the end of the sky. Fragrance blooms on both cheeks. The beauty is not separated by the bright moon. Waiting for Fei Zhan, we will practice together and then divide our leisure activities.
curved screen covers the night orchids. Half of the makeup disappears. Dreams cannot come true, and lamps burn out. The plum breeze falls outside the curtain. ○Check the red paper and the round jade bamboo shoots. I know the spring tide is coming soon. Counting thousands of sails makes no difference. I don’t know whether Chao has faith.
[Annoyed by Flowers]
The thin plum breeze dims the sky, like ink sitting in the window at dawn. How many times have the spring gone by the chaos, the green gate and the white house, the dream shadow of the passing year, and the lingering sleep in the mirror. I am too lazy to play the sword, and I am late to write the book. The wine glass is only called the photo of a flower branch. ○I am still the same person as I was last year, and I hate the luxuriant grass. On the back of the road, there is a picture of Tiaoshan Mountain, and I still find a tired pillow. It is a broad and thin plan that travels along the old path, and there are flying catkins and flying flowers, so they are annoyed. As soon as a leaf goes away, I know that the gulls of Linmeng are getting older.
[Seven Poems on Cherishing the Red Clothes]
The darkness follows the fireflies, and the bamboos move when the curtain is pushed, and the courtyard becomes white. When the drinker comes, the moss in the garden is broken and green. Mr. Wu Conggui looked at Xiaoye and Ezhuang in a carefree manner. Xiangmo. The long paper is cracked and stained with traces of frost and flowers. ○The side of Ming Honghai. Lying alone with a floating lantern, the flowing waves drift away from the color. Lovesickness has not been sent to the thin guest. Resistant to autumn silence. The sale is accompanied by gulls in Shihu Lake, and gossips are spread across the west and north of Yunnan. It's about my hometown, only Cangchan can understand it.
Tired of the tide, the tube is limited to one day, and the illness is gone. Holding the soul of the river toad, blowing the lamp half-circle green. If the clear string is turned by mistake, whoever understands it will be a guest at the banquet. Spring silence. The fragrance is dark and the shadows are sparse, and the sound of plum blossoms is heard. ○The west wind fills the road. Wu Chen comes and goes, wandering around in idle sorrow. Cangzhou dream is in the old country. Flying geese travel north. Xie Xi's poems and poems in his later years are all based on Geng Lang's experience. I want to be the same as the old man, and I am drunk with the maple color of the garden.
The old geese are gone, the crows are turning over the sun, and the sorrow is gone. Before the dodder fur is gone, Tiaoshan Mountain is full of resentment and green. The cold flowers and drums are beating, and the calligraphers who laugh and frown are also present. Zhanji. The old immortal in Xihuan is about to take a rest next to the gull. ○The red fragrance of the old street. Flirting with the dream of a bronze camel, half of the nest marks are left behind. The country has experienced a miasma every three years. North and south. It's a good time to stay in Xuyu in the cold weather, and the five lakes in the snow sing the calendar. Just cross the wall to have a drink, and enjoy the view of the mountains with ease.
The dreamy cup reminds you of the short time to install, which is very tiring. The west wind turns to the sea, and the sails break through the blue sky. Gao Hongyun is far away, but he has a poor eye and a guest in the river tower. Silence. There are wickets on the forked road, and the songs are endless. ○The car dust is nine miles away. The flower field with a sea of people was borrowed by Wenliang Yanni. In ordinary life, Jun admires his homeland. Wuyunbei. The setting sun is golden and cold on the ancient platform, and I look forward to reliving my old days. When Wuling was young, he was sad and single-colored.
When a tired couple mourns, I sing a long song to see the sun off, and my sorrow is powerless. When I was sick, I went on stage, and the frost and forest were beautiful and red. When your lips are full of wine, you should smile and be strong-willed to serve your guests. Noise and silence. The sound of wild geese in the cool rain makes them rest in peace. ○The bright light spreads across the street. The dust is full of dust, and the waves are full of sorrow. Zhan Lu burst into tears and went to the northwest of the country. I miss my old mountain and think about it, where I can go fishing and travel to find my experience. Xiu Wanying was speechless, wondering whose house the autumn scenery was.
A thousand senses are running away from me, I am wasting my days in isolation, and I am tired of my energy as I grow old. The wild goose seals the book, and the wild clouds disappear into the sky. When you are away from the group at the end of the year, you are worried about thousands of miles away and have no time to move to other places. Silence. The lamp pillow wakes up from fatigue, swallowing the wind and waves. ○ Thousand classes of purple roads. The spring thunder in the hall is ringing, and the old sound of green cattails is borrowed. Gu Leng's dream fell, and he went down to the country to fight against the north. What's the matter with holding Chulan in your hand? You are not allowed to climb through the nine levels. After flipping through the book, the wine is drained and the green chickens are in autumn colors.
The disease is reduced and the frost is gone, and the sea is gloomy and the sun is gloomy. Singing bitterly still exerts strength. The couple is in a state of confusion, and the distant mountains are green and forgotten. Sitting on the bed at night, I smell the wild geese and the head of the building is like a guest. Silence. The embers of incense are lingering, and the reading is misty and breathless. ○ Luo Chuang Fen Mo. All the feelings are unreasonable, and the flowers and tears are flowing. The woodcutter wind brings love, and the water country sends it to the north and south. But what's the use of seclusion? I keep worrying about my origins. Make a fishing rod plan and consider the weather of Shihu Lake.
[红林楽 near]
The cherry blossoms are divided into cages at the beginning, and the bells are tied to the branches. The new rain comes from the reeds in plain hands, and the fragrant fragrance messes up the Yingpan. Drinking wine is served in the east garden and west garden, and I want to sit and chew a meal in the wind. The Old Testament once gathered carved saddles. Hua Li watched behind closed doors. ○The wax-embellished book has not reached its peak, and the taste remains sour after being sealed. He is as lazy as he is, thirsty and full of sorrow. It's better to be old in spring at the end of the world, the hall is dark and green at night, and the dream soul is still parked on the lake on the boat.
[Two Songs of New Wild Geese Guozhuanglou]
Pink gold dowry, leisurely love affairs, the green window reflects the beauty. Wuluan reclined and saw the small letters connected with each other. The more fragrant wisps are draped on the sleeves, the peaks of the mountain are covered with dark daisy, and the eyebrows are crescent. Habits of gentleness, dark color at night, sold out with Chinese years. ○The spring breeze fills the basket, accompanied by cyan jade on the curtain, lightly illuminating the low servant girl. It's full of love and beauty, but the sky is full of green bamboos and cold weather. The embroidery room is half warm in the smoker, and I ask when the makeup will be round. Looking for an appointment, I can see the spring shadow of Xiaoying, not separated by Pengshan Mountain.
The netizen is dimly lit, and the floating lamp is nearby, shining brightly in the light of the cup. There is no sound to be heard, and the dust and musk deer echo in the sky. Don't lean on the moth eyebrows to pity the short temples. Before autumn, the mirror shadow has already been frosted. In the youth field, Naihe called Che, and deeply hated Zhou Lang. ○When the wind blows for no reason, the dusk clouds will stay and the setting sun will stay. Wangjing's old dream, intoxication will not change the sadness. The heart of the kite moves faster and faster, fearing that it will fall apart. Thirteen golden geese fly. It's late in Cangjiang, and I'll pay for it in my share. It's very sad tonight.
[Four Songs of Butterfly Love Flower]
The dialogue between Orioles in the East Wind in No. 1 Hospital. The time of drinking is uncertain. Who is the master of the red calyx? New songs and dances in the bead curtain and brocade tent. ○Personnel information is of great concern. Falling catkins and flying silk threads are all signs of sorrow. The tears linger in my eyes, and spring seems to be promising, and the rivers and lakes are filled with flowers.
The wine is flowing like snowflakes. Swing the hairspring, and the light will turn. You may not be able to clear up the song at the snap of your fingers, but who can limit it if you rush to take pictures. ○Hua Chen is born opposite. There are many obstacles in my steps, and I have not understood the depth of spring. The smoke is heard through the window and no one can be seen. Jie Hong's new music is all over the place.
The solitary flower branches in the dusk with the rain. The sky is covered with red railings, separated by mist. I miss you dearly, and the east wind cares about idle words. ○Proud red lapel wears embroidered household. But the answer is muttering, and I don’t know who is in charge. I will tell you the details of the incident in detail, so don’t let me misunderstand the myriad of threads.
It is easy to rest with jealousy. The stormy and heavy weather brings us to the Qingming Festival. The clothes are colder and more timid. ○ After a short nap, I feel hot while leaning on a mountain pillow. In the dream, I was worried and kept my eyebrows furrowed. The leaky and half-dry streets are full of drums, and the night cuckoo crows above the pear blossom moon.
[大麺]
The stone railing on the back is low, the flower flags are fixed, and the fairy clouds are clustered deep in the sky. Carving jade hats in the early morning, standing there with red makeup on, looking like a golden house. Drunk valerian blows smoke, the clear cloud rises at noon, and the east wind lifts the delicate feet. The three-life dream of Yuhuan, relaxing in the pavilion next to Wu's baby, accompanied by the loneliness of spring. There is no title on the leaves of Nai Shu. The cup is filled with hatred and the hair on the temples is touched by a ruler. ○Happy travels must be held by candles, while drinking and doing things, the scenery runs fast. Angry and confused, I climb the stairs and my eyes are sick, and my heart is worried when the water is cut off. The red fragrance is curled up, and the tears are full of tears. I don't believe in the throw of youth, but rely on my homeland and the sound of cuckoos to urge me. The situation is scattered and clear. There is no land to plant and buy, and I return to the green grass in the courtyard. For whom the resentment will be continued.
[一calyx red]
Shuixixun. There are small boats on the waves, crows and spring birds. The river is raining with yellow plum blossoms, and Wu is wearing white silk ribbons, sending him off leisurely and drunkenly. Replacement of old travel, flat smoke wastes green. The remaining words of Yan are nestled deep in the hall. The feelings of horse racing, the weather of baking silkworms, and the sales volume are used to sinking. ○You can't help but wander on the wrong road. It's a beautiful boat, but now I'm lonely. Fragrant shadows and curtains, Chinese-year-old zither pillars, melancholy and sparse lapels. Don't be surprised, he is a wild and charming person, with beautiful hair and a young heart in his heart. Waiting to talk about lovesickness and resting, the moon is shining in the shadow of the building.
[Two poems cited by Cymbidium fragrans]
Blowing the late fragrance, dotting the makeup mirror and half of the servant girl's hair with green clouds. Remember to sit down and know the fragrance. The most annoying thing is the rush of dawn under the lamp. Hua Yin steps up, facing the annoying and singing Liang Chenlai. There were so many tears that I accidentally dropped the pomegranate skirt. ○ Junyue microwaves, leaving the intestines and drinking wine, this hatred fills the eyes. Afraid of returning to the horse, Pin and Su'e were alone at night. Kaiping Mountain is green, dreams are heavy with jade, it is difficult to meet each other, and the southern geese are short and careless.
Floating mats of water, a shallow cool dip, and a new sleep on the gauze. If you catch a little wind firefly, you will know that the fan is tired and fluttering. The leakage is long and the dream is short, the road is blocked and the mountains and corners are blocked. If you want to complain, it's hard to do it. Carrying a candle and a jade rope falls to the west. ○Who owns the secret flute? There are three or four flying sounds, and the water tune is wrong. Counting the cooking style, I didn’t shed any tears. The inscription is red, the Gui Palace is vague, and in the late night of the Qing Dynasty, who is ironing the little eyebrows and worrying about the calyx.
[Zhu Mazi]
Sigh, the cold rain is drifting and the smoke is falling, and the orchids are fading and the dew is falling, so the mountain year is late. Looking towards the empty tower, the towering corners of the city rise, and the frost forest spreads out. Sitting and lamenting the sad songs of a solitary guest, weary of strumming on the complicated strings, gradually urged to leave the banquet. The eyes need to be sober from the wine, and they have to look at people, and the autumn tide is like an arrow. ○ When I think about the place where I am traveling, my sails follow the falling geese, and my dreams first turn to Hunan. Lingjun was filled with resentment in the past. The desert waves and dust blow.Ding Yi listens to the rain and the wind, sings the story under the lamp, and the people are far away from each other. Thousands of leaves are soaring in shock, and the setting sun is full of dimness.
[Bu Shuan Zi Slow]
The smoke from the furnace is warm, the rain behind the curtain stops the cold, and I am extremely tired and cannot sleep in my quilt. When the wine was first sold out, I heard Lin Jing blowing loudly. It brings frost to the sky, and the broken horn urges people to rise. Changing to the dawn, the beautiful scenery is plain, and the toads are shining endlessly. ○Lonely leaning on the railing. Gradually, my eyes are cut off from the dust of Beijing, and my dreams are lost in the Xiangshui River. Later, he made an appointment with Ding Ning and sat down with Fei Cuifeng to pass on his tears. Good years are wasted in vain. Waiting for an appointment, I will see him off in the world, fearing that he will be haggard when he returns home.
[Jiang Nanchun]
The decaying willows stand on the platform, the bright ripples are shallow, and the green and Yao trees are arched like a wat. The poem is caged in the soil, the old home is cold, and the autumn pen is hanging down. There are few signs outside the door. The waves are closer and the steps are cleaner. There are several dishes and medicines in the south of the mountain, horizontal books in the north of the pool, and Wu Gao accounts for the Duanyanyue. ○The flying immortals are gone and the festival is floating. I want to see the Qingcheng full of history, and I dream of climbing Luo Ge. The remaining couple in Shanyang still explain, Rouge Qingxue. The neighboring flute is frightened and the wind stops. Outside the setting sun, the painting railings are warm. A few people are retreating into seclusion, the autumn language is cold, and the maple roots are humming in the dark spring.
[Looking at the sea tide]
The long wind blows the wild geese, the flying clouds fly across the sky, and the sky floats endlessly. The dream of a lonely night, the scales of thousands of mountains, and the sorrow of the numerous bamboo slippers. Come and take a walk. The first moon shines brightly on the Xiangpei, and the frost wipes the Wu hook. The sound of Yuanhe, outside thirteen screens, chirped in the clear autumn. ○Yanming wildly hits the stream. Ask Penglai's left stock, who will collect the remaining paintings. Waving a fan to Gu Rong, Wang Can ascended the tower, and now he is not a feudal lord. Playing the flute to call the Qiu, I want to bet that the Yellow Sea will be returned to Cangzhou. In the present day, the king and the barbarians share the throne, and boats are sent out across the five lakes.
[Shizhou Slow Two Songs]
In the passing time, the kingfisher crows, and spring arrives in the south. The small calyx in the clouds is red, and the jade posture in the stream is white. Looking for incense, I poured it into the sky at night, and the smoke on the lake was gone. The slanting moon wanders around alone, and it is hard to find the good news. ○Remember. With the news of plum blossoms in the two capitals, the Qiang Guan was shocked and could no longer live in it. If you are used to living at the end of the world, you can know the east wind in your dreams. I have shed all my tears in the spring, but it is so late in the year. I still listen to the dusk flute in Jiangcheng. Arouse the hearts of the five lakes, and rely on the power of chanting in front of you.
I wake up with a spring pillow, accompanied by a painting hall, and the sky is vast. There is so much information in the south of the Yangtze River, who will lose the fragrant plum blossoms in Shuiyi. I have been nestling in the wilderness for a long time, and I have not heard of the flute in the mountains. The jade dragon is still silent in the dusk and snow. The sound of bamboo sticks outside the sky brings the season of floating lanterns. ○Gefa. After visiting the Champs Elysees and returning to Hechun City, I immediately forgot to say goodbye. Missing the setting sun, the sound of clams and cuckoos is extremely sad. I don't know how many eyebrows I have drawn when I look in the mirror. The new makeup disappears and worries are gone. Holding her bun in a bun, she was speechless, and looked at the yellow moon again.
[Fisherman's Proud Three Songs]
I have been looking for the double-painted boats in autumn for a few days, and I have been busy on Hengtang Road. Dreaming of walking in fragrant clogs in Xiwan, where you drink wine, the wild waves and strange rocks are still worth mentioning. ○It is easy for new coolness to grow green trees, but separation takes advantage of Gaohong. There is a wax torch floating in the well of Yiye Jingwu. You must read it. It is raining in the south of the Yangtze River tonight.
The bookmarks and picture frames around the couch are so hazy and scattered. As we get older, we can't help but drink strong tea, wake up from a slight sleep, and use wind furnace decoction to treat autumn diseases. ○ Thousands of miles of blue clouds are full of wild geese, and the running script breaks the shadow of the blue sky. The moon is half up, the curtains are thin and dark, the railings are standing alone, and the sounds of business are full of sounds, but no one can hear them.
The incense bowl is filled with light, and the cold firefly opens and closes the green window paper. I searched and recited my work and night plans on my pillow, but there was no word. I was so tired that my eyes were closed in thought. ○Weeping dew and mourning insects hinder a short sleep, and the dream returns to the curtain as cold as water. Cece Gaolinwan starts at the end of the month and gets up in the middle of the night. The sound of autumn is nothing to do with idle people.
[Two poems with dark fragrance and sparse shadows]
A yellow patch of dirt is exposed, looking at the bottom of the hat of an old friend, peeking at the flying snow. The disease started on the Double Ninth Festival, and the west wind blew and the cold settled in the evening. The sad taste hurts the autumn and makes it more bitter. I cherish the mist and the clear spring in my home. Remember the cold incense, call for the remaining cup, and talk about the clear things across the fence. ○The road to Chaisang is far away, it is late in the year in the small town, and the people are miserable. Sitting alone in the lingering fragrance, there will be an east wind, which will not change the drifting of the leaves. The branches are sweet and fragrant, and there are frost queens and lonely butterflies. I hope this flower will bloom from now on and shine on the misty moon.
Broken beads one by one, I borrowed the pink letter to collect them, and my family was in the ice and snow. Notes keep treasures, and do not wait for good gold to be cast into flower bones. After the calamity, people are getting older, so don’t worry about it and let your spirits fade away. No matter how many times it is born, the flavor remains and flows into the words. ○What's more, the rooms are all charming and beautiful, and the fragrance of the rupilla leaves is everywhere when you knock on them. Exhibiting the lanterns and the night, together with the concubines, is appropriately called Yichun Liantie. The new moon in Luofu shares the same dream, wishing to be transformed into two fairy butterflies among the books. If several generals are interested in family treasures, there must be a grandson who can tell them about it.
[reverse offender]
Tears look at the new peach, and the old charm is swept away. The free door closes early. Sticky chicken paintings and swallows have been deleted. Whose family is competing, the new sound of flutes and drums is heard by crows in the forest. The sparks are cold when the sticks are left, and the east wind does not let go. The leakage is dry, and there is no frost at dawn. ○Helping at the plum window, green tubes and silver poppies, the past is like a passing bird. I dreamed of seeing my homeland, and it was green in spring, and the new year was coming. Afraid of only benefit, flowers and branches are annoying. The pain hangs down, and the white head groans and looks into the sky.No matter who is the best, drinking every day is no good. People who wake up alone are old.
[Three Songs of Lun Xun Fang]
It is still cold and I am dreaming, the sky is green and smoke is coming, and the orioles are frightened at night. Like a guest in the east wind, the twilight bamboo sticks outside the flowers are blown away. The sun sets, the cuckoo sounds, the running water rushes, and the fragrant grass spreads all over the sky. On the Anhe River Bridge, there are hanging willows and knots, and people leaning against the curtain are far away. ○The weather is very cloudy and sunny, and the line of mountain eyebrows is relatively miserable. According to the back fence, it is not called Hua Luo Qingfan. After passing by the chaotic pond and taking a break from singing and dancing, I feel sad about the cheap time of cherry blossoms and bamboo shoots. I'm bored, it's dusk, and the rain is falling.
The dust in the mirror hides the thin body, the moon behind the curtain exposes the sorrow, and the sick person is alone in the house. It's the end of spring when I accompany guests, and I can't bear the smoke of medicine. The old fragrance is passing through the wine shed, and the new tune is complex and lazy when singing. Temporarily hazy, there is Tongjie Street close at hand, and the car is whirling like thunder. ○ Fortunately, the crows of the city dispersed, the arrows were heavy, and the dawn outside the window was still shallow. It may not be enough to fall asleep, but love will arise in the half-quilt of sleepiness. When the geese pass by, I hear the tears of the flute, and when the flowers bloom, I climb up the stairs with eyes wide open. Chu Yunnong was expected to lose to him and win money from the court.
The crane sheds off the inscription, and the crickets roost in the desert. Who cares about the fragrant scrolls. A white head hurts the spring, and the poet has a lonely soul to send. The fragrance of hateful ink sticks to the new silk basket, and the sorrowful string heart marches in the idle palace. In the old south of the Yangtze River, I was afraid that the lakes and mountains would be destroyed, so I had no place to rely on. ○ Take away the beautiful things and tidy up the broken things. The same life is like a sea of clouds and melancholy. The whole family is in love, and there are Chu Lan’s idle tears in it. The pearls and jade are often associated with the feeling of being near the water, and the articles are more than just about Tibetan mountains. When the soul is summoned, in the small town of Kuma, there is no sound of the flute.
[saiwengyin]
The flute returns to the pond road, urging the wild color to shine. The old love is broken, the clothes are red, and the rain is falling in the east. The guests are not able to bear the sway of autumn, and they are careless in front of the colorful brocade screen. Recalling in secret, there are old treasures in the bush, carrying a boat in a hurry. ○Flower Palace. The week is approaching, I am tired of flying south, and I am haggard and dreaming of Jinliang. It is expected that the dew of the West Lake will be exposed tonight. Unexpectedly, Taiyi Xiancha will be resented by Gao Hong. Mandarin ducks are the most miserable, sleeping in the desolate waves is like dreaming of the wind.
[eyes charming]
The sound of rain moistens the old clothes and the bonfire, and I am sick and pregnant after drinking. The dance red disappears, the west wind returns, and leaves Ye Ye's heart. ○The traveling clouds are not controlled by Qiu, and the dream goes up to the empty building. The two wild geese in the cool night clearly tell me that the road to heaven is leisurely and sorrowful.
[花心动]
If you are like a flower branch, you are called Dongjun, and you can decorate it to your heart’s content every year. Dancing with embroidered flags and singing with golden bells on festivals are not just a matter of leisure. There is also a swing club on the partition wall, but it is half forgotten and full of spring. Outside the Xie Bridge, the east wind is so cold that it probes my heart. ○The years are still flowing like water. There are thousands of strands in the sky, and the silk poplars rub against each other. It's the same water west, it's time to pick tea, but people in phoenix boots are far away. Fan Wan flutters at the butterfly and makes a clear appointment. After thinking about it, I made up my mind and sang lazily. The door is closed and the fence is dry, and it is red and wet all over.
[Two Songs of Frost Leaves Flying]
The clouds are chaotic and melancholy, and outside the solitary sail, swallow trees are floating in the wind. The wild geese descended to Cangzhou first, and it rained in the cold zone. In an instant, the wheel flew past the feathers, and the dust particles were shocked to see the red mulberry trees. Afraid of leaning against a dangerous building, the sea air is close, the dusk is over, and the mood is pure while drinking. ○Not to mention the glass bowl at the North Pole, the drinking tent at the east gate, and the song of resentment is hard to sing tonight. In the simple book, the meaning of apes and birds is vast, and the words of wild chickens can be found in the sky. The dream cannot enter the calyx thread, and the discussion will go away by listening to the water and the wind. The flute of regret is left, its sound is flying, the lonely fish and dragon are looking at the place where people sleep.
People crossing the river at dusk, passing by with age, talk heavily about the autumn rain on the lamp bed. The north wind drives the geese temporarily to fly on the cold zither pillars. Accompanied by a solitary guest, the palace is broken and the feathers are broken, and there is only the pain of the cuckoo at the end of the world. Romance talks about the Fu family, Leng Mengluo, Cangbo teams, and white gulls live together. ○The long record is that the dust blows from the policy, and the floating clouds cover the eyes, and the road crosses outside the east gate. The left peak was shocked and returned to its soul, whimpering in bronze camel language. Laughter and tiredness of crossing the river overnight, the fishy dust is still near the Manjiang River. Respecting old friends, when we are tired of visiting, we will tie a spring sail and bloom with flowers.
[Five Songs to Set the Wind]
The kingfisher appears in spring in the mirror, awakening the hearts of the five lakes over the years. The beautiful plum blossoms that illuminate my eyes are blooming near the water, and I feel melancholy. The fragrance is sparse and the little red hairpin is missing. ○Don't go to the clouds to remember a thousand kinds of memories, which are useless. Come here and pour them out 100%. There is no wild goose to support the book on the river and the north. Don't talk about it. The miasma in Hainan is thousands of miles deep.
Seventy years have passed, and there are no poems left for you to drink. The sorrow of autumn is determined by old age. Only when I believe that there will be no wind and rain, it will be desolate. ○My strength has been reduced since I went up the stairs, and I have many sensations. Yanyin’s military energy is extremely high. The whole place is the same, who is there? I am in love with the setting sun in my leisure time on the railing.
The flower is close to the top of the building, the book is clear, and the water and clouds are pure and clear. Two people in one hospital become poetry companions. Tian Xu, the banished immortal is Canopus. ○The north gate of the past is strictly controlled and forgotten, so that it can be stationed in the Antarctic. I'll drink more calamus wine and drink noodles for longevity, and I'll be intoxicated with you in my dreams.
I wrote down a golden pen and sat down to watch the green dust flying around Pengdao. In the sky, spring sorrow disappears and the white hair disappears. I personally pick it up, and the white hyacinth flowers are soaked in purple clouds. ○The two become poetic companions in the same hospital. God promises that the intoxication is so heavy that it is peaceful.I have Dongpo's three hands in my sleeves, scratching my head, but filling in the poem about letting fish out in wind and rain.
off-screen Chunfan is willing to pause. Flying on the back, Yan was surprised at the beginning of the journey. Huabiaoman invites the lonely crane to stop. A few more. The wild scenery of Menghua City is green. ○It is difficult to express tears when the Longshui River is divided. The more I chant, the more I turn over the tune, but I still can’t make a sound. Don't sleep with plum blossoms. Must be drunk. The flavor of being drunk is better than waking up.
[Dream Jade Quote]
I accidentally startled Hongmeng, and I was on the Cangjiang River, but I didn't return. The moon is slanting in the sky, and I am carelessly picking up my pen to Leng Feng. The tide ebbs and flows, the journey is half over, and the bagpipes are played on the sand. The ripples in my eyes are harder to find than the moving clouds. ○The Jinping and Luofan are still scattered traces of the old joy. The mirror whispers to the stars, and the little moth is sad and lonely. Feng and lovesickness, red scales and cold weakness. Sitting alone, with frost on my back, I don't believe in the lanterns and flowers tonight.
[Yanqingdu]
饯奯奯人村 drum. The sound is urgent, and the wild geese are low and singing oars. Qiongxiao City is far away, and the flames of the anointing furnace are thin. What a beautiful spring. The calyxes in Hengxi River are delicately red, embellished with beautiful words to welcome the new year. Ren Xiangxi, the snow is falling, Hanshan is indifferent. ○The silver lotuses and green emeralds are in charge of the western boats, and the songs are calling for the bounty, and I forget to travel. Apply dry ink on the paper, dip it in a cup of light wine, and warm yourself to sleep. The wild chicken will pity Shen Meng, it is one night and several places in the heart of the country. The wind calls the mood, the sails color the New Year, and the journey to spring is on track.
[Six Ugly Three Songs]
The east wind is gradually rising again, hating the corner of the world and being unable to repay the spring. The market buildings are half dusty, the lanterns are shaking on the plain walls, and the fragrance is sparse. Time passes in darkness, there is a party, and there is a solitary post on the misty river. Whose family is playing a mid-stream tune, driving steadily in Penglai, and Liu'ao is just around the corner. The heavy waves blow their breath. Make Tage smile, and fly away without leaving a trace. ○The people behind the canopy window are silent, and the flames of the anointing furnace stand straight. The old lover Qiong Xiao is cold, who can say anything. The dream of bronze camels circles the fragrant streets, fish and dragons spread freely, and the spring city is like ink. Exchange money, enjoy a short night. In Guitengli, I am unconscious and have my own head, Su'e's true color. Take care of Luan affairs and pay for the guests. Late at night, every drop of tears will be wiped away with silver and lotus.
The plum blossom gradually fades into powder, and the green and warm colors are newly made. Half of the Jiansong River, the spring ice halo is reduced, and the dense and fragrant festival. On the edge of the thin bouquet, there are two shadows of embroidered flags, which are lifted up close to the treasure platform. The horses neighing in Fan Street are hot and dusty, the mist is fragrant and the curtains are rolling. Deep in the cold city gate. It was formed into a formation by Qiongxiao, which meandered through. ○The chanting gradually stops, and the condition invades the year and the hair grows. Remember the story, the feelings are different. Chun Fang is singing late again, and the flying clouds are splashing tiredly, and Qufang is wearing towels and socks. Silver lotus ashes, moths fly away. It's unbearable, I spent all my money in exchange for the bright moon of the old days. The song is still in the dust, but still spinning in the snow. Listening to the laughter, the outside of the fence is white, and the lead is clear and dark.
The material is fragrant and beautiful, protecting the bottom of the candle and the Qingyin Chi Pavilion. I put on my makeup late at night, and my makeup turns into a spring of jealousy. The lead is scattered. The dream revolves around the swing, lying on the red branches, surrounded by brocade. The delicate and delicate golden bells and ropes are stained with tears, and the face is bright and elegant. Ten years old fragrance still remains. Even if I lean against the railing for a salary, my mood is still bad. ○The silver screen bead foil, Nai Gugen accidentally entrusted it. Haiyan has a habit of moving around, but she has no place to stay. Luzhang has broken her promise. She has a sense of loneliness and loneliness, and Ah Huan can feel it. Love is broken, Jincheng Tianjiao. Only then did I realize that, fortunately, I don’t care about the east wind, so I can just enjoy my sorrow and joy. The setting sun is thin, but I still love the red calyx. I'm afraid that the wall will be covered with water, and the flowers will float away in the chaotic water, and no one will think about it.
[Qingboyin]
The small waves are irregular, which is a good situation for the day and the flow of the cup. The greenery is cold. The wild wind awakens melancholy. The sound of Tamase scattering in the air must be heard by someone listening to the dining clouds. Self-pity only smells the root, and it falls, chime at noon. ○I am used to traveling alone, relying on danger and Xiu, and my thoughts are uncertain. Tea is served in the furnace, and the smoke is dim. The coldness is in the nature of the mountain, and I am willing to bear the windlass to repair my fur. Sitting there, I'm afraid of a piece of ice and looking at people's dusty shadows.
[Three Songs of Six Unit Orders]
Shadows perch on the stone railings, with a few scattered jade branches. The cold ripples are desolate and green every year, and I am alone in my heart. A smile flies into the air, and the pearls turn into dendrobium. The golden house where materials are measured, the sound of flute, evokes new makeup and bamboo repair. ○Whoever believes in Kongzun will cry easily, which will ruin the spring situation. How many floating musk deer towers are fluttering in the east wind. Don't go to Qiong guest and complain about Songling song. The kingfisher is still sleeping, but the lights are closed, and the dream is moth green under the drapery.
Bisha smoke, the grudges are unfounded. It is clear that on the east side of the Song Dynasty wall, there are several layers of curtains and foils. The lanterns that support dreams are spinning, not illuminating the sadness. Later this evening, the sky is blue and the sea is blue. It is useless to miss lovesickness without knowing it. ○There are still tears in the ashes of the wax torch, dropped before the farewell feast. Luo Dai's poems are originally untitled and are woven out of ideas. There are thousands of zithers with simple hands, so don't worry about danger. The phoenix curtains and mandarin duck mats can fight the haggardness, but do you know whether the golden hairpin can't be broken off?
The paper kite passes by in the wind, supporting the road and the flute is hot. The wine flag on Jiangqiao is green, and the grass-colored skirt is connected to the waist. Thousands of red stars splash into the water, and it’s a beautiful festival. The sound of several new ears, swinging outside the rope, arouses the spring people to try their luck. ○If you don’t believe in Xuandu’s dream, you will experience all kinds of calamities. The hundred-foot incense stand has no owner, and the bell is broken intermittently.The chicken and wine bring back the soul, and the money and paper become ashes and turn into butterflies. It shines on people's faces, upright and upright, but it is the moon of the old days with peach blossoms.
[Recruitment]
The rain before autumn is rare in life, and the bed is facing each other tonight. Tired guests always have no sleep, and they only pick the remaining red sea. Thirty years of sorrow and joy have not faded away, but they are written in pottery on wine glasses. The intermittent sound of the eaves and the rustling of the windlasses are lingering at times. ○Pictures. White Ping Bo, Bian Zhou Yue, when will we call people to go east? Asking about the Five Lakes League, a group of gulls came. The scarf is still lingering. Like guest Yan, Shangmi Canshe. The water window is dawning, the bright mirror is lingering, and the plain silk is full of silk.
[Qiuji]
Don't sleep on the pillow with gurgling gurgling, the rain curtains are blocking the way, and the light is dizzy. The wan leaves are cool and noisy, the crickets are sore in the evening, and the sick and pregnant are accustomed to restrain the strength of autumn. The tired chanting takes a break. The traces of dreams linger on the water shield. Ask about the homeland. Whose family members are sitting alone in the middle of the night in a miasmatic country? ○I lie down in shock at the end of the year, the river weeds are scattered around, the fishing rod is meditating, and the poems are sparse and silent. With the westerly wind at its back, the remnants of the cuckoo are bitter, and the bronze on the temples turns white in their prime. Bu Fan can handle the matter. I'm afraid that when I wake up from the drunkenness, I will be surprised to see the lakes and mountains in the painting, the waste water for pearl fishing, and the dust-breaking new post.
[西平乐]
The bushes are worried about the crows, Lusha throws away brocade, and the thoughts of separation fall darkly in the corridor. The ink is worn on a single garment, the calligraphy is deep in the candlelight, and the clear joy and grass are covered with three frosts. Look at the fragrant and withered leaves in the mirror, and even Yuping sinks the boat. The west wind is growing old, and the wings of the underworld are gone. Who can shake the dust of the world and return to the north safely? ○The curtains of flowers are in bloom, the fairy books reflect the palms, the anthers clear the lake, and the rainbow moon shines brightly. He can't disappear, he can talk about strange rocks, he has hollowed out the spiritual chariot, and he has said that he is very worried. Liang Yan comes again, the nest is rustling with dust, the furnace ears are stunned, and she looks to the horizon with despair. Let's stop working on the wine bar. Who can point to the setting sun?
[Three Poems on Willow Shaoqing]
A corner of the wind ripples, the scales blow away, and the brocade feathers carry them back. The escort team is trying to catch the clouds, but they are unable to play with pearls, and the bright mirror is lingering. ○The empty boat self-resolves and forgets the machine, the collar is diffuse, and the red makeup is slightly green. Sansu Lakes and Mountains, twenty years of dust, who is right and who is wrong.
Small ironed paper, cigarette root exposed pistil, Qianying personally passed down. The pink body is twinned, Huang Yan has a dream, and the thin negative is Chan Juan. ○Every year, the mountains are empty when listening to the rain, but they cannot disappear, and the flowers in the sky are blooming wonderfully. Don't ask about the east wind, how beautiful and fragrant it is, the leaves are in a state of Zen.
The orchids are green at night, the jade flutes are cold, and the brocade is silent. The moon falls on the lonely tower, and the clouds travel halfway across the gorge. Who wakes me up from my sorrow? ○Lingering and uncertain about his life, I can knock on it and find the jade in the west chamber. In order to repay Qingluan, I can see the bottom of Mei'an Temple and remember the words clearly.
[Sweeping Flowers Tour]
The sky is light in color, the river is dark with apricot leaves, and the breeze is gentle. The freezing waves rolled up. The feeling of sadness seems to be pity, and the old sand gull is in chaos. Look at the cold spring red, carefully step on the Yaoguang mirror at dawn. Calling Wu Chuan, I am afraid of the secluded surroundings of the five lakes, and the dream of flowers is rare. ○The view of the building is still misty. It's a chaotic mirage floating in the cold, and broken jade shining brightly. Spring is over. Being cut off by Concubine Qiong, the curtains are warm and graceful. The plum blossoms are flying on the tired flute, and the tune of Jiangcheng has changed. Liu Mianzao. By mistake, people in Dongyuan and Feng Shoes were swept.
[Jade Link]
Flowers sing and take off clothes fragrantly. Meng Yunxiao. Shatang's sculls are as beautiful as the dust, filled with sorrow and waves. ○The wind sets the catkins in the pavilion. The nightingale gossips. No matter how cold the spring is, I sit and watch under the setting sun.
[Two Songs of Flowers on the Road]
The cold wind blows from the north, and the clear weather suppresses the snow in the east. The fragrance of sleeping ducks spreads everywhere, and the smoke disappears next door. Qingmen remembers or not, ten miles of poplar silk is broken. The jade note is even brighter than the dream. The wax torches are withered, but the Han Palace still has a festival of fragrant flowers. ○ I am worried about the day, and Du Yu is bleeding. The spring urges me to go to the rafters, and the waves are catching, and the dangerous fences are patted all over, and then I can believe the mournful song. Sitting in the middle can tell. It is said that the journey is difficult, and I deliberately say goodbye to you.
The column branches are too low, and the bird traces on the book moss are broken. The fragrance of the spring apricot porridge stimulates new fire. The flowers are in the wine bin, and a cocoon is wrapped in sorrow. Sitting around with stacks of books. It's dark in the afternoon, and the patient is lying down. ○ Hongfang has no owner, and she is happy to plan every year. In the turbulent day of spring, who is locked up, the rivers and lakes are all over the ground, and the dream leads to the wind blowing by the woodcutter. Wild gulls are more lazy than me. If we look for each other, there should be someone outside the world.
[Lychee fragrant near]
The official bridge is covered with frozen mist, and the lamps and lanterns are double painted. The west wind blows through the curtain, blowing the dark Lingbo Road. A little bit of cool toad in the east of the sky guides visitors to peek into Zhuhu. After singing, the graceful zither and wild geese are still talking. ○The tour is light and diffuse, taking pictures all over the river and Liang. At the end of the year, the river is empty, and they win the love of tiredness and get married. In the heart of the red candle building, will you be sober and heartbroken at the end of the world? The dream committee is a wisp of clouds.
[Light yellow willow]
The east wind is strong in the evening, blowing the plum blossoms into snow. Seeing the Jiangcheng Cold Food Festival. The fallen willow postal pavilion is getting greener, and the ten days have passed since then. ○Feast and song break. Happy farewell to spring. Hit the sculls and visit the peach leaves. Wu Tianke and Yan Han are all left. The night after, I missed my lovesickness, where are the traces of dreams, coming and going in the light moon of the green stream.
[Three Poems of Frost Flowers]
I am familiar with the five lakes, so when spring comes, I am afraid of dust. The kitchen near the water is clear, and the broken mountain is close. It is still difficult to live in seclusion.The wine glass is wide, tied to old love, and will always stay in front of the flowers. Counting Cangbo, facing the idle gulls on the mat, the troubles and sorrows will not send away the late alliance and the cold. ○ Luo Shu and several people took shelter, sighing that the wind branches were not settled, and the cicadas were startled by their complaints. The chess game is new and sad, the lamp bed is full of old words, and the complicated chanting is limited to flying notes. To rent a painting boat, I owe Cuimei and Singxiu Bianjuan. With the sun setting behind my back and leisurely cooking, Xiaofeng looks in the mirror.
Weary guests in the hall thank you, wake up the west wind, and dream of old Wu Gao. Tobacco Hengtang, jade plum blossom pavilion, Ci Xian went to live in boredom. The purple flute is full of love, it's late at night, and the moon is bright over the South Bridge. Accompanying the old house every year, there are short and long strips of willows with yellow crows. ○The host and guest have traveled against each other for hundreds of years, so they have a seat as a dodder and a fisherman. Zhu Di is in the sky, Qingmen is in spring, and the frost and flowers are drunk and the ink is fluttering. The tired soul is waiting for a call, the material is scratched, and the love is still resurgent. Those who cross the river wander to the north of the mountain, and the swallows return to their nests.
A stranger in a foreign land, I asked a few people to respect me and forgot to wander. The sky is full of red sounds, the chrysanthemums are late and autumn is tired, and the pool platform is chaotically leaning against the frost and clear sky. Sitting without veterans, bear the old madness and stop weeping in the new pavilion. Just filling the chest, the block must be poured, and the sorrow will not be equal to the wine wave. ○ No matter how many difficulties there are, I will know that this is not my land, and I have endured the loneliness. The golden valley sings about businessmen, the jade mountain supports drunkenness, and wastes half a day's floating life. The picture rails are even more beautiful, and the smoke and lingering light are ruthless. Next year, hold on to the dogwood and seek the old alliance with its evening fragrance.
[Two Songs of Ruilong]
Wugao Road still has green sills with vines and trees on the terrace. Every year the cold food comes from the east wind, which resents Luo and hates Qi, which makes spring disappear. Standing still with tired chants, the singing bird cherishes the urge to return, and the lover is in the hall. Travelers from the far end of the world can be crazy, talking about flowers and wine, talking in their sleep. ○Infinite floating clouds and thoughts, leaning shyly on short skirts, rocking poplars and dancing wildly. Guiyan is accustomed to anger and empty curtains, and people's intentions are not due to reason. Apply make-up and blur the color, write hurtful sentences. Never before have I seen the clouds screen my eyes with tears, and the fragrant dust step back. The mirror turned red. Leaning on the railing to wait for things to happen, my thoughts are cut off at dusk. Overlapping worries become strands. He is old and the lights are falling and the rain is falling. The night is long and fast, and there is a kite of dust.
On the bridge in the city, I still lie on the willow and blow the cotton, and go to the waves to practice. The curtain pavilion in Fangchen is stunned, it is drizzling at dusk, and the hairspring is spinning. If the arrows are leaked, it is easy to drink up the wine by singing songs, and the old lapels will be splashed. The black clothes are also timid and cold, I wake up from the dream of Xie Tang, and the spring clouds are late. ○Throw away all your youthful past, people who cross the river will grow old, and they will travel far into the sky. The orchids are still growing in Wei'er, and the wrong roads are in disorder. Withered red and diseased green, this evening's sorrow is hopeless. Without saying goodbye, the candle in the west window burned out, and the bell in the south neighbor was broken. Sit and read the incense scroll. When people are sleeping, the clear songs gradually fade away. Happy mood and lazy east wind. The gift is empty, and Wu Niang laments and plays the zither. The most cherished thing in the later period is the Hengtang sail piece.
[Autumn Night Song]
The water window is empty and the torch is bright. The dream wakes up and disappears in the autumn hall. Still leaning on the pillow, it is foggy and rainy, and the insects swallow the dawn. When managing worries, it seems like chaos. I have been away from Jiangbiao for three years. The place where the condensation disappears is where the late waves are wandering and the grass is fading in the sky. ○We will lose all the green hills, but we will not be able to do it, and we will see each other in old age. The disease invaded Pan Ling, and he hated Jiang Lang so much that he looked into the mirror and had frost on his temples. The cool breeze comes early at the end of the day. The rivers and lakes are full of sight, and the wild geese believe in Yao. Afraid of tall buildings, counting the stream of light, the sound of horizontal bamboo blowing, full of resentment.
[Longshan Club]
There is no wind in autumn, so the garden is desolate, and the willow tower is in Asia. The sails of the Five Lakes are not straightened, and the shadows on the temples are peeking under the Liuhua Bridge. Return to Xinhong on the side of the formation, leading the forest and mountain eyebrows to be green. In the tired and fragrant period, the cool bushes are musk and millet. The wind blows with gold. ○ I still remember the song of Yi Shang, with white eyes and blue sky, trying the arrogant horse of Wuling. Chu Wei shook his head and fell behind. The flow is full of hatred, and the west wind lingers in the night next to the flute. After ten years of traveling in Beijing, the bottom of the cup is full of water, and the waves are pouring out in disorder. The house is full of drunkenness, there is an appointment to wait for the owl, and the barbarian car is hanging behind.
[An Gongzi]
The rainy night dims the garden, and the sound of wind leaves blows in the empty pavilion. If you are tired of pouring a deep cup, you will not get drunk, just wait for Nan Qiao. In the dark, frost toads hang on the shadow wall. There is no such thing as backlighting or lying down. Gradually, the bamboo sticks moved sadly, and the beautiful roses blew down. ○The overlapping fish calligraphy is like a blur, and when people are avoiding people, they chant and look at each other and become sad and surprised. What happened the day before, the bitter east wind faded away. The dream says that when the feast is over, don’t let the danger end. Luan mirror dust, there are Cangzhou paintings. The yellow pond of Xizhu is cold, as if the sunset has not yet set.
[Yu Zhuxin]
Lead Frost and Shadow Yang. It is the sorrow of spring in the broken jian, like the palace of pistil pearls. In the Shechen courtyard, the east wind blows out, swirling the tassels into trusses. The hairpin beams are not up, but they are all covered with acacia flower nets. Look upright, you will see a faint cloud, and you will be ashamed to offer a new reward to the young man. ○ I am wearing a new makeup, but I am afraid of short dreams of Penglai and the Forbidden City. The fragrances are gathering and avoiding, and things are falling apart. I wonder who is close to the solitary root. The lush jade barrier relieves you from deep sleep and brings you a graceful and graceful life. Don't earn money. I am a wine-loving person who smokes the cage at night.
[Hua Xuyin]
The new moss condenses on the foundation, the idle bird peeks at the curtain, and the orchid is bathed in the old festival. The sound of painting drums is low, and the flames of burning furnaces are short and worried about seal knots. If you don’t believe that the neighboring flute is frightening, it will help Xiaoyin to sob miserably. There are two pomegranates in the corner, which faded red and still have pleats on the skirt. ○The plum rains in the south of the Yangtze River send away the departed souls, and the resentment flows through the wild rice leaves.Chu Yun's chapters and sentences are half deep in autumn's heart. Where does Jin return to sail in the evening? He hates that the road is long and the waves are broad. Hebi is ridiculous, who can answer the question?
[Two poems on mountains and flowing water]
Jianghe River does not move in the gentle breeze. Counting the autumn period, the green onions are everywhere. Outside the flowers, jade goose plays music, and the dusk rhymes with the beginning of the night. There is leisure and sorrow, and the saliva is green and red. Accompanied by the needle, there are many faint clouds in the courtyard, and the candlesticks are painted. Dip three stars and turn it carefully, and the dripping dew will become thicker. ○In the machine. The brocade book hates it every year, and it is based on the saying and the green water of the Xuan Palace. It is easy to miss a good night, and the dream will bring you a lot of fragrant velvet. Xiaodiaoling and Jinyu are partial workers. It's a matter of man and nature, and it's easy to make a fortune in Luochi, a tired guest, sober up and clear the clock. The sparse curtain under the curtain is broken, and the old love in the hairpin box is lost.
The Forbidden City's French music is cold Zhu Xian. The dragon sings and the wind and rain rumble. When the banquet is held, the rhyme of southern smoke flows into the flowing spring. The river is clear and slow, and the corners of the river are turning over again. Where Chenyou is, the sound of immortals fills the sky, and he joins the Cangguan. He Chunlei's other hall, in front of the imperial incense. ○Unprovoked. Qingcheng is thousands of miles away, and the yellow swan spectrum should refer to the cold autumn. Messy apricot blossom poems, dreams of thousands of rivers and mountains. Asked about the colorful clothes and how many times the smoke floated. I have few close friends, and I touch the tears of my lonely ministers, and express my sorrow and sorrow. The sound of the palace of hatred will never return, and the words of the long bird are desolate.
[Linjiang Xianman]
The wind is blowing, the wind is blowing, the cold birds are buzzing, and the willows are growing tall. Outside the painted bridge, the setting sun shines brightly into the fading lotus. go through. In the old dream-seeking place, there are heavy clouds and ripples. Go and have fun, change the fireflies to look at the mat, and sing in the wild water. ○ whirling. Gold plate and green wine, there is nothing to worry about tonight, so I linger in Conggui, there are not many old moons. by him. Naiqin Tower was blocked, the book was wrongly dated, and there were two moths of resentment. Finally haggard, for someone to look at the mountains and rivers.
[Two Songs of Snow Plum Blossoms]
The wine is weak, and I stand alone against the west wind. I am anxious about the tall buildings, and it is easy for me to feel the autumn mood in the horizon. It rained all day long at Tingzhou, and the water culvert near the bridge curtain was empty. I am in a hurry to leave, hoping to break the book period, and meander to Binhong. ○Hurry. Lead Li Xu and Zhu layman's clouds, and paint Wu Feng lightly. The old country is fragrant, but the leaves will fade into red. The ancient city is rocking the ground, and I am lying on the screen with sorrowful dreams about the coming year. As before, the pillow is heavy with fatigue, and the soul is broken and sparse.
The rain is endless, and the sails are wet all over the river city. Facing Kongdu, the green curtain of swirling waves is dark. Mix the Hongyin water tower flute, swing the fireflies and light up the city bridge lights. On the evening of the lunar month, the road to the fairyland is vast and we are about to welcome you. ○Lingren. Ten years of events, told to Man Jian, are like a dream and doubtful. Tired of wandering south of the Yangtze River, Yu Lang lived in sorrow ever since. Jiuzhanqiu acquaintance with the disease news, candlelight in the morning to change the guest's mood. It also invaded the pillow, thousands of leaves were shocked, and there was no sound of foreign business.
[Caiyungui]
The spring clouds are near the tall buildings day and night. Good scenery, green and red harvest. When I return from a frightened dream, the phoenix candle is languishing on the ground, and melancholy things are called out for no reason. There are new grievances in front of you, colorful clouds, singing at the end of Wu Tian. I am busy chatting happily, but the old Yankong remains. ○Have a rest. Jiangnan hates the land, and asks Qingcheng what to prepare for. A wave of water is gone, and the water is scattered, and the water flows westward. Even if I don't come, I will sing and dance, and the orchid boat will be wet with tears. Passing through again, rivers of grass and flowers, new sorrows along the way.
[Yulinling]
The crow cries astringently. Near Lianqiao Road, it is dark and rainy. Wherever the lonely cloud passes, the doors and alleys are in chaos, and there are traces of moss and flowers. The thin dark current swirled up, and gradually the dust moved the wall. Very Yanyan, Qiyu is adjacent to the east, and no one here knows how to play the flute. ○The end of the world is sober and soul-destroying. But suddenly, the ground and the sky were filled with tears. The articles were in vain, scattered and scattered, and the remaining writings were left in Maoling. The solitary chants in the night should be taken into consideration for the present day and the cold food. When the paper is cut and the soul is summoned again, the dream is broken and the maple forest is black.
[西河]
Singing and weeping, the broken lamp can still be remembered. The ashes of calamity are close at hand on the railings, and the night is full of mosquitoes. The people in the thatched cottage go to the sky, and the western mountains peek into the laughing eaves. ○Who can lean on the old garden tree again? The empty boat seems to have no ties. For the sake of the king, Xu Yuyan came back, retreated from the cold and abandoned the base. Menghua sleeps in the autumn of Beijing, and the idle gulls fall in love with smoke and water in the sky. ○ After the drunkards are gone, they ask Huang Long and talk to their neighbors. Sad about Xieyang's life experience. Afraid of the bronze camel, the yellow dust on the broken road, the tall buildings in the northwest, and the floating clouds.
[Yangchunqu]
I was sad last year, but this year, I still look forward to spring with despair. There is a good east wind in the curtain door, dusk is approaching, and the swallows return to the painted beams. Lighting season. Shocking the homeland, plum blossoms fall like snow. Only then did I believe that the powder was red and sticky, and I woke up from drunkenness. Easy to become news. ○Wanting a banquet, Dongyuan Jianqun Road. Who makes an appointment by mistake, the flowers in the book are written on the leaves. Now the song dust is all green, splashing with echoes and rolling tears. New voice but with twilight. Even more upset, the jade dragon blows through. Look out the door, watch the passing water and drift flowers, and go to the south of the Yangtze River to enjoy the dream.
[Sacrifice to the gods]
Look at the length of Chutian and the dusk rain. The passers-by are stopped, and the cries of wild geese are painful amid the sound of garrison drums. It is sad to wear orchids in autumn, and Wu Dengyu wakes up from a dream. Lying down with the west wind at your back, the distant Cangjiang River is far away at dusk. Don't be too careless to touch the dragon's anger. ○Even more desolate, the sun sets on Xinting Road.The mountains and rivers and the different scenery are the questions of the present and the past. How can it be that despite the vicissitudes of life and the war that destroyed the family, Yu Xin wrote a poem about the south of the Yangtze River.
[Lang Tao Sha Slow]
The cold brings frost and water, and the dark rain cries the leaves. The eaves are beating with sorrow, and suddenly the curtains and stirrups tremble and their shadows disappear. There are continuous threads and continuous spring threads. On that day, Luan and Luan were getting married. When they asked Gu Jing and Miao Wu what they were dreaming about, Xu Qianchen actually threw them away. ○ It is sad and sad, the brocade book is sent far away, and finally I stop reading about jade. I have a golden bed in the west wind night, and the misty wild goose swallows it. Sighing and breaking off the robe, I would rather believe that I don't hate my heart. I fold it in front of a bright mirror and take the center like the moon. ○But the peaks are shoveled, and they are as flat as the Yellow River. The huge rivers are surrounded by dust and dry up. Angry thunder rises, Yuandong returns to summer snow. More than a thousand years old, relying on the pestle to destroy the thickness of the sky, and the deep alliance between the earth and the world, there will be no lingering relationship.
[国香MAN]
A frame of the soul of Hunan, the water is vast and the smoke is dim. Jiang Gao was haggard and haggard, leaving Lingjun with him. What are the poems written by Rimu Tong? There are Chanyuan and Beizhu Guchian. The fragrance of the country is wandering, without allowing the east wind to change the soil and move the roots. ○After years of hatred for the country’s subjugation, the copper plate is cold and the lead is stained by tears. The Forbidden City is far away, and there will be no spring in the goose tube. To make up for the remaining records of Xuanhe, the kings and grandsons will disappear as they grow old. Don't be annoyed by flowers, step into the waves, and be filled with autumn dust.
[quyuguan]
Wild fire sticks to the embankment, cold clouds bite the base, and the frost sky makes the sun fly. Guests can climb up the stairs to see nothing, and there is no way to see the declining willow trees. Complete ileum. Discussing military affairs with a cold eye, sipping wine with a worried heart, there are not many scenery to sing and appreciate. What I love most about the green hills is that I look northward in a hurry. Send slave country. ○The domineering spirit is depressed, leaving whimpering, and the resurgence is pouring eastward, and Yongjia is flowing in, but Yu Shubao is sad. Feeling confused. And the jade dragon blows up, like a scale of west wind, the country is like this, a few winding railings stand out against the setting sun.
[Qingchun Palace]
The decaying battlements hold smoke, the bells in the pavilion are watery, and the wild cuckoos call out to the Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade headbands are vaguely spiritual to the poets. The new tune is melancholy, but a spring flower still recommends fragrance. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Tears drop thousands of dendrobiums, fighting for a long time, Hanyuan Zongsheng. What's the point of being left alone? My life experience is uncertain, so don’t ask the disabled monk.
[Drunken Old Man Cao]
嶕峣, Danjiao, Zhumao. If you are entrusted and run away, no one will attack you. The thousand-year-old hill will return to its nest. The old man's thoughts are wandering, and he sings and ballads. The old fisherman and woodcutter said to me how many of them there were. ○After the present power is gone, I will return to Liao without a dream. You'an's tears disappeared with her white clothes and soap hat. There are trees in the mountains but the wind whistles, there is an end to the sea but the waves are rolling, and there is no twilight morning when I miss you. There is no need to work as a matchmaker with the same mind. The fighting handle is swaggering, and the Wangjing Tower looks at the sky.
[Qianqiu Sui]
Jade Yuqiong Tower, green emerald ladle, regardless of the spring frowning calyx. The old branches of the flowers are still blooming, and the sticky and falling catkins are still floating. The dowry is made of gold and brocade quilt is made of iron. ○Last night I dreamed about love affairs, but tonight I will think about them again. It’s a pity to make an appointment with Yunmengtai. At first, don't worry as much as the sea, but now you are as thin and heavy as your waist, with four strings and five patterns of embroidery, but you are leisurely.
[Qi's]
The moon is bright and the east wind is the east wind. Fire and silver flowers intersect, Qi and Qi trees intersect, and brocade becomes a cluster. Long Cong, good curtains, singing orioles and dancing swallows in a hurry. The tired guests in Cangjiang sing at night, and the three or five people here are of the same mind. The city is warm and moths are noisy, the trees are buzzing with crows, and the rosy clouds are reflected in the celestial beings. Count money in exchange for it, the running water is short and the night is short, and the spring sky is blowing to the ground. ○Looking back at the emperor's journey to Tai, Ao rides the phoenix and blows, and meanders along the green Cong. Yaotai Road, green and charming, red and graceful, with heavy pipes and silk. Thousands of hibiscus. In the cyanotic mirror, the fragrance of clothes is close at hand, walking from west to east. As time goes by, the candles turn, and I pat the railing quietly, looking northwards dimly. ○It is not a leisure mood, urging Ni to sing, playing tricks on spring work. When I asked if I could see Widow'e, I went to the flowers and drank wine. When I was young, my laughter spread around me, I was drunk with a pickaxe banquet, and I dreamed of being paid a fortune. Fei Niannu, haggard Qingge sent. The eternal hatred and lingering damage to Qunong. The night window remains, and the wax fades red. When I read the Fang Festival, my sleeves are wet with tears and the dragon bells are wet. It is very cold in spring. Drums are painted on Fan Street, and there are many fish and dragons.
[Cherish the Yellow Flower Slowly]
The love of Chu Ke is fragrant. I can avoid it after a dream, and the spring wine is in the full moon. Close the door and live in the world, quietly leaning against the white temples. The roots are resistant to late growth and are stained with bee yellow due to shame. Holding flowers and worrying about lonely butterflies. The old fence is almost desolate. Read the emperor's hometown, recommend autumn handsome appreciation, drifting away from the heavy frost. ○Ten years of living across the Cangjiang River. A few points of splattered English are shed by old tears. In the later period, I was lonely, Chu Yun was in the late festival, the dust was half gone, and the oatmeal sun was setting. Thin posture does not dare to hurt the old age, it is cherished, and the curtain is made up of autumn. The most heartbreaking, the night quilt is full of fragrance.
[Bo Xing]
Yoshiki in the back hall. A moment of fun, the mood of dusk. Not used to it, the soul of spring is unchecked, and the wind is floating around the river bridge. The branches and flowers are lying in the east garden, and the spring roots are heavy with lovesickness sentences.Then the colorful flute will be used to recite the song, and the golden person will be drinking wine, urging the neighbors to play the new flute music. ○It is also a self-explanation and a series of errors. I can't bear it, and parrots are chatting outside the green window. How often do you know that there is no place for flowers outside the door, but there is a beautiful silk thread hanging around when you are idle. Regardless of wind and rain. But the eyes are wandering and tearful, and I can't see anywhere in the world. Dangerous fences are everywhere, and my heart is knotted with clouds.
[A Cluster of Flowers]
The clouds are like ink stains and decaying walls, evenly painted with brocade. Who said that a graceful and graceful body is suitable for a palace body? I can't dream of it, but it floats on the fence of a musk deer. There is no one to repay the rain of news, and each of us spends the cold spring. ○It’s hard to talk to people when I have two swallows flying on my back. Fangchun is like a guest who has grown old. He has no distinction and returns to you with a handsome face. It's better to look at it when you wake up than to waste your time and get drunk.
[Gatepu Lianjin]
The mandarin ducks have had a cool dream. Autumn is graced by the Western Pavilion. Let’s stop dancing in neon clothes and make an appointment next year. Xia Yanzhuang avoids the dawn. Xiang'e smiled. Qianying Lingbo is small. ○ Annoyed by flowers. Xifeng married late, and the house was empty and heart-wrenching. The idle gulls looked at each other coldly, and the people across the river were divided into old people. The dust mirror is left to take a photo of itself. Sad tune. How many grievances there are between the two branches.
[Yanshan Pavilion]
The spring beauty of the country is overwhelming, the golden house is put on makeup, and the beautiful glow is illuminated to add charm. The Zhu Pei Cui Ying, dipped in the pen and the fragrance of heaven, suppressed the new score of Luoyang. In exchange for the robbery of Yanzhi, it is still chapped and dyed, and Yaotai is exposed to wind and dew. Sharing the payment, accompanying the wandering Husha, apricot blossom words and phrases. ○He was once crowned with beauty, and had a jade table and palace silk, and he was praised as much as he could. I carry the flowered deer in my hand, and when the person who hangs the list comes, there are vague clouds lingering around me. Several passes are clear and flat, so they should not be called, relying on the sound of the family. Standing in sorrow, the red calyx has been red for a long time, and no one is in charge.
[Mei Ling across the stream]
The new year is full of flutes and drums in the east, but the old love is empty. The withered face in the mirror is red with candles, and I feel sad that I am already dead! ○Xianmenfangxin is more carefree than others. Ask Dongfeng: Is it the same as last year or different in the depth of wine glass?
[Fragrant Grass Ferry]
Dream rain drops, green frost waves rise again, and fine dust scatters. The fallen maples are shining on the shore, and the red and yellow colors are on display in the rock paintings. Lin Biao toad mirror hanging. Welcome the boat to the east. It's getting late, the weather is cold, but I am carrying my hometown community behind me. ○To provoke. After drinking, I became sad, tired of thinking about Shuangxi Yuyin's words. Then he won, the green mountain fell, and he pondered about the handle of the fishing rod. The atmosphere of the sea is full of people, many Yan, fish and dragon repair the night. After asking for a long time, listen carefully to the beating of sail drums.
Qin Yunmiao, Chu soul is injured. Get up in the middle of the night and think alone. A comic book with small characters on red paper. Knock with both hearts, and behind the elbows, there is a sachet. ○Throw the jade ruler and burn the silver spring. Who will sit with you on the Acacia bed? Old flowers and new leaves must be equal. Balcony Road, new and acquired, two mandarin ducks.
[Shihuxian]
The wind is gone. At the end of the year, there is a fragrant news from Xi'an. Who is the little red hairpin, crazy about poetry, and the barbarians are taking advantage of it. Yanluo joins hands and wants to shine together, clear spring and red powder. No points. Accompanied by green birds, the paper tent crows. ○The moon is bright and fragrant. Sanjiang City, old hatred in the flute. At dusk in the frozen post, I will be sure that my timid jade muscles will be damaged. The moss on the outside of the bamboo is dry, and the snow on the temples is withering, and the style is full of spring charm. The flower dream is stable, but the cold night must be endured forever.
[Dongpo Yin]
drags Xiao Xueji. Exploring plum blossoms in wrong years. A furnace of Phytolacca sat at the bottom of the window. Qu Teng can only sleep. Qu Teng can only sleep. ○The peppercorns are no longer sung, but the butchered Su is tasteless. It is also forbidden to use the words "Yichun" and "Yichun". The neighbor explained the matter of knocking for peace. The New Year and the bright moon are. The New Year and the bright moon are.
[Han Gong Chun]
At the third watch of the miserable month, thoughts return to the broken soul, and the cry can turn red. How many tears hurt the spring, blowing up the east side. Wet the silk scarf and try on the trendy makeup to make your hair look slightly rosy. The new imperial edict is a gift, a nest of auspicious brocade, Zhaoyang is still in a daze when facing the mirror. ○ Carrying a tree but wasting his talent and thinking makes Jinqiao deeply resentful and teases the flowers and velvets. Youth is accustomed to staying in idle land, and does not complain about the east wind. The dream of crane forest is short, and the lonely bamboo root splits the mountain sky. When I smell the sweet fragrance and cry softly, when will I add more treasures?
[Wind into the Pine Two Songs]
The hair on the temples is slightly intoxicated by the smoke and dust of the medicine, which can be cured by illness. In the floating life, I have realized the dream, and the fragrance of Buddha is left with me. Sitting on the bed in chaos, the autumn soul still rests firmly. ○It is rare to see new green clothes in public, and God is tired of complaining about people. It's not my pity that the boat was born. I hesitated to ask about the details of hanging the sail. The wild goose is full of shock waves, and in the later stage, there are many irregularities.
The auspicious clouds cover Nanzhou, and the two cranes add to the beauty. I know from afar that there is a new sound in the Qingping screen of Jiaqing, and the music and government complement each other. The chrysanthemums in Litan Lake are beautiful, and the mulberry trees in the East China Sea are soft. ○The immortal Weng Jin wears water and clouds in autumn, and sings about Cangzhou. Several peppers and plum blossoms are patrolling the eaves and laughing, and the sky is full of spring entering Qiongou. Next year, at the scenic spot of Magpie Peak, colorful clothes will wrap around your knees and fragrance will float on them.
[Zui Penglai]
Looking to the south, the clouds look like a cover, with clusters of green flowers, and pavilions and halls to the north. The family celebration screen is opened, and the Qiongzhiyao banquet is warm. The East China Sea is mulberry soft, the Nanyang chrysanthemums are blooming, and the scenery is clear and autumn evening. In the mood of an inch of grass, I hold incense and pay my respects to the star in Antarctica. ○The fairy man of the pink department, Caifan returns, in front of Sangpu Mountain, Banyu ascends the calendar. The new voice of Yuefu, the fairy wings of Qingluan.The scent of cinnamon is strong, and the fairy cooks the preserved meat, cooked by Magu herself. A song of orchid is passed down to the guests of the Tao family.
[Magpie Bridge Immortal]
The old dream of Wuling, the new covenant of Wuhu, and wandering around the world. In front of you, I inspect the last year's people and make offerings to them through the medicine furnace. ○The gentleman is wise, he hides his bag and veils his hat, and even when he smiles, he has no trace of himself. The new painting with green eyebrows is heart-warming, and it depicts distant mountains facing each other.
[Xizizhuang]
The horse is driving the candle slanting, the flute is playing on the back, and the waves are half empty. Covered by frosty yellow willows, I have many sorrows, I am separated from my feelings, and I lie on the bridge in the sand. Smell the chicken and dance. Let's do business and live in idle clouds. The dream of becoming a marquis is a brocade velvet hat and a jade flute. ○British travel error. At the end of the year, the sky rises, shooting tigers into the barren mountains. I drank wine and wiped Wu Gou several times, and the dark night illuminated the remaining trees in the countryside. Xiao Guan's poems are concise, his poems are changed to Jiang's table, and he ascends the building to write a poem. The dark scars on the lapels are worthy of the feast and the rain of tears.
[Man Tingfang]
Shu State's ice strings, Husha dust pillars, and the double sandalwood clutches and clutches thousands of times. A few songs in the spring breeze, a small change in Yuefu. At the inner banquet, I drank the wine and took the opportunity to take pictures. I once looked at the sun with my red sleeves. Sadly, the jade is scattered, just a piece of clothing. ○In Dongtang, I once knew the music. I pressed the six modalities and swallowed the Qing Shang alone. The pheasants and roosters flew down from the carved hall. Ande has two voices: crimson tree, glazed armor, and dragon incense. In the human world, thunder breaks the pillars, and the words rise and fall.
金沙鴴鄄 smoke. There are flowers falling in the wind, and snow catkins floating in the air. The words and sentences that urge Fu will leave, and the waves will be like dust. The halo of the full moon is like a golden basin. According to the farewell feast, the dusk is in a hurry. The bananas on the road to Liozhan are red, and the trees in Baqiu are green, which is like the spring in Fengcheng. ○Cai Bian Road, Huangyan Tun. The situation is full of hatred, and the sake alliance is new. It is said that the wind and moon in Yingzhou are respected by the piano in the thatched cottage. Tomorrow is from Yangguan. Ten thousand heavy, clear and cold clouds. The dream lingers around the edge of the glass, and the traces on the soul are left at the end of the world.
[Mei Wu]
Recognize the text and return to the phoenix, the shadow falls and the giant is startled, and the autumn water half dawns. The seal script expresses sympathy for each other, the rhombus flower is thin, and the pingting makeup is accompanied by a scarf and hat. The beautiful eyebrows are tiredly swept, reflecting the east side of the stream, and the red bean branches are small. Confession is like a shadow of vicissitudes of life, carrying wind and sadness. ○Who would have thought that Yutai people would grow old. The remaining mountains are cold and the copper halo shines alone. After the thick hair has been thrown away, the heavens shed tears, and the spring comes and the heart breaks and the flowers appear. The crimson clouds are lingering around, and there are so many musk boxes and red emeralds. I remember seeing the round figure in person, smiling charmingly with the full moon.
[lateral offender]
It is easy to get tired when traveling in a strong way, and the guest taste disappears after twenty years. Who sends. It is to exchange candles for flowers and wine. After waking up from the dream of Jianghu, I began to believe that the article was cheap. circulation. Very green ink and red teeth are still worthy of companionship. ○The old moon in Pingzhou, the rhyme of the flute and the distant sky. The food arrived. In the autumn of Gutang, it is not too late to return to the crane. Tired of taking pictures of colorful clothes, anxious to persuade. A woodcutter song is waiting for you to sing.
[Parrot Song]
The two teeth are washed with moss and copper is ancient. The spirit of hatred turned into cold ashes, and hung on the wall in a prostitute for safekeeping. ○The names of the ninety-nine workers are carefully written, and the Xuanhe map is embellished. Ask who can kill the wolf with his hands, and play the ibis with heavy drums and music.
[Yongyule]
The setting sun is setting over the rivers and mountains, and the wind is shaking the grass and trees, so where is the base? The iron halberd is smelly and the sand is fishy, the sword and ship are flashing, and the heart is broken to conquer the south road. The spirit flags and armored horses are still there for people to point out, and they still remember the desolate garrison back then. Remember the city, the clouds are as dark as ink, and the crows explain the misery. ○I am old when I join the army. I have a boat and a heavy boat. Who can take the book and sword? Xiao Ji. The Xiang River is ruthless, Wu Yang has hatred, and he only seeks Guihong's words. The skills of Qingtian and the bones of the feudal princes were all sent to the east by the angry waves. I asked Yidi, if the jackdaws defeated the willows, did I blame others?
[Resent to the spring breeze]
The smoke from Yujing willows. It’s hard to miss lovesickness. The cry marks in the dream are only known by the sleeves. Hateful and weak, not worthy of Luo Yi. ○It’s too late to wake up from the lingering wine in an empty hall. Why ask about suffering? The spring will be judged by Iraq. At ten thousand o'clock in the morning, the flowers fly into the east wind, and they will no longer sway the empty branches.
[Two Songs of Flowers in the Rain]
Return to the dream of the clouds and waters of Shizhou. Do it out, spring cold is special. There are rhombus silk on the road, peach leaves blowing in the waves, and what plan can be achieved by beating the oar. ○ Dao Bo is lucky and the flag pavilion is drunk all night long. Who knows, the deep love of a thousand pieces of gold. An inch of transverse wave, how could the bottom of the flower have ever missed the rest of spring?
The new drunk next to Jinse. He also ordered Xu and Qian Quhui. When you enter the curtain and surround yourself with flowers, you will get crabs in the prison state, and everything will be done. ○Manly laugher, no good plans in life. The narrow road is in the old land of Lingbo. The wild crane flew low, the official frog roared angrily, and deliberately avoided each other.
[Yugezi]
The calamity flies away, and the palace leaks. The clear tears of the Bronze Immortal are like falling lead. Looking at the Central Plains, there is a mountain of hair. After a while, the flying geese suddenly disappear. ○The grass is like frost and the sand is like snow. The prismatic stone brings time. Longtou Yin, the sound gradually swallowed. A bright moon in the sky.
[Two Pieces of Drunk Yin Shang's Pieces]
I still remember whether it is Juntian, and the dream is full of peach reminders. The next year brings joy and resentment, and the phoenix builds the west wind banquet. Replace with a thousand points of worry. Furong Old Garden.
is the old days of flying low, swallows flying around the flowers a thousand times. When the spring warms up in the hall, it’s time to put on a new look.I wish the east wind does not care. The dust is full of hatred.
[Three Songs of Hu Tao Lian]
Two pairs of phoenixes are used to light lamps, and they know the spring miscellany of Yao Jing. There was a sudden fragrance in the wind. Occupy the south couch of Duanhua. ○The dust on the jade platform is semi-cold, and the golden pavilion is deeply closed under the slanting sun. Floating and thin love letters. Also write answers on red paper.
The mother-in-law was born unaware of the sorrow of spring, and the flowers and silver were scattered everywhere. Hit the oars and the palms and the wind will merge. The flute is mixed. ○The white sky is full of love for Xiao Xian, and the smoke is long in the dream. The cold and warm mood makes you timid. I am ashamed of the spring river duck.
There are thousands of acres of old mountains in my heart, and dreams surround me in the clear sky. Vegetables and bamboo shoots gather together every year. The old garden is worried about the sheep trampling. ○ I heard that there was no chicken in the public meal, and I was sipping the wine in front of the wine. Beg me Lu Jiacheng duck. Nothing is impossible to achieve.
[Feng Gufei's two songs]
Who can understand the expression between the eyebrows and the eyes, the jade fingers move slowly. The table mirror is full of smiles. It only stirs up chaos and warms the dust. ○The timid peach blossom has a short life. Arrangements are made all over the place, Cuilou Red House. It's too late to occupy Zhu Yanchun. Stealed by a wandering warbler.
The emotion of saying goodbye to Xie Niang, the return to reincarnation is slow in the dream. The material is steep and Luo Jin is full of tears. Leftover duck, fragrant and warm. ○It is said that the tail is long but the wings are short. Sales Ning used, Yu Chuangyue Pavilion. The troublesome oriole crows morning and evening. Fei Shang Chun Jian Guan.
[Siyuan people]
The remaining walls are full of colorful paintings, and the old curtains are covered with dust. The sky is long and the dreams are short, the solitary swallows in mixed nests are just like the guests thanking the family. ○ I am playing the zither and flute far away, and I am taking advantage of the remaining time to take pictures. I'm afraid that the jade flute outside the flower will be blown off in good spring, and my front sleeve will be wet.
[Two Golden Phoenix Hooks]
Gao Hong also called Qiu Lao. There are official willows, and the frost is yellow early. Make waves lightly. A new tune for harvesting grass. How much sorrow a night brings. ○The green cage and golden lock flower room is small. Very anxious, noisy moth makeup sweep. Jin Jishu arrived. The thread of resentment is red. The embroidered screen is open.
horizontal wave old style. Love sentences and secret confessions over wine. Feng Xian hugged him again. Green paper and heavy grass. Just wait for the jade letter to arrive. ○The smoke in the window is as small as agarwood. The first thing is to know the ruthlessness. The flower is red and smiles. The tear moth Bisao. Shen hates to repay him with a blue bird.
[Liangzhou Order Two Songs]
The moon is immersed in Jinbo. Separated from the palace brocade. It is clear that the ditch water is divided into the west and the east. How can we drink when we join hands in front of the flowers. ○The white title "Crazy Dancer" should be very good. Zhu Rui meets Luo Jin. Whoever has the same heart is forbidden. The red paper turned into a prophecy with tears and ink.
Don’t blame Lanqiao Drink. The drunken coral is hard to sleep on. Goose screen dream separated by the green mountains of Shu, whose cries wet the brocade at the head of the river. ○The golden toad bites the lock to know who is forbidden. The remaining leaves of the furrow are soaked in red. Qing'e shed tears because of this. The west wind thins but the east sun sinks.
[Yu Tuan'er]
Hongbian Jinzi is about the year. Very inappropriate, red light night calyx. At two o'clock in the spring mountain, everyone is lovesick and peering into the mirror. ○Xingyun met by mistake. The dream is cold, the mourning strings are lingering again. Before I arrived in front of you, I heard the sound of the river filling up, and my tears fell first.
[Three Character Orders and Four Poems]
Luan language comes early, but wakes up late from drunkenness. Flowers time. The stars are small and the temples are cloudy. Comb the rhinoceros on the back, move the phoenix pillow, and add new knowledge. ○The grass in the river is green, sending people home. See you indefinitely. Red candle back, green screen. Painting Luo Luan, gold engraved lamp, thinking hard.
Luan faces the shadow, and swallows fly together. Morning makeup. At two points on the mountain, draw a sad brow. Swallow the Xiang string, throw the Han pei, and travel east and west. ○ Tens of thousands of hates, going around the world. Yan Shu is late. With the embroidered threshold, the language of flowers and branches. Because I miss you, the mountain pillow is wet, and no one knows.
I made an appointment on the river and was late with the book. When the geese come. The remaining wine wakes up, and the small curtain hangs down. Being caught by the west wind, I was busy with my work and fighting for knowledge. ○Wushe water, bring flowers back. Every other year. The red sleeves are dark and the clouds are cyanotic. Late at night, pillow and quilt in spring, longing for lovesickness.
Flowers and butterflies dream, embroidered with mud. Old travel fun. After people disperse, the world is far away. I understand the 簰, connect the precious mirror, and think about it again. ○ empty musk powder, wash makeup pool. Let the curtain hang down. Who is more jealous? In the west window, the moon is not full.
[Nan Gezi 2]
Old hatred is broken by gold, and new love is in harmony with Baose. The hazy thoughts are pitiful. It's rare that Chun Luo's calligraphy invites me again. ○Jasper has been famous for a long time, and the red paper is painted with tears. Even if a slight disease damages Chunjiao. Could it be that the banquet was lost to the waist of Chu Gong?
The curtain rolls of the Cui Lou do not leave any fragrance, causing the locks and golden toads to hate each other. Shuxian Qinzhu arranged it for free. I always feel disappointed and cry when I listen to the song. ○Xi Hua hangs out late. According to the agreement, the east wind dream is short. The ileum is turned over and is afraid of returning in good spring, which is a sign of loss and death.
[Pour the Cup Order]
Avoid the calamity of Go, enjoy fighting with grass, and amuse Chu Yun to sink his hatred. It is doubtful to sleep while walking or sitting. The wind is tight in front of Panma Tower. ○Double curtains protect the velvet and keep the clothes stable. The jade is slender and slightly damaged by the cold spring. No one is taking care of the eyebrows, and there is still powder left behind when carrying candles.
[Yi Hanyue]
lost the green window money. The zither outside the flower bursts. Farewell to the taste of spring, I can't cry, and I will sit in shame facing the jade box. ○Jinyong gardenia night, the wind is blowing, and the hairpin is blooming sadly.The orchestra is learning to sing Yizhou, and the sound of the businessman on the side of the road is wrong.
[Red Window Listening]
I hope that the east wind will return. Floating, tender shoots are full of spring. The dance clothes rush up to the beautiful scenery, and I am very worried about the lack of reason. ○Handorilandang joins hands. Who can press the old score of Yiliang and subtract words secretly? It's better to push the wine and avoid it.
[思gui乐]
Spring comes with double waves and pink slip. Smoke partitions, Zhu Langmei Xiu. Willows and catkins are set in the wind. Later, in the dark, I felt that the day was long and I was thin. ○It has been a long time since I wrote a letter complaining about Luan. Eyes filled with hatred and no return remain the same. Do you still remember when Xie Tang sobered up? When the swallow comes to settle its nest.
[爱儿令]
Who makes an appointment to win money behind the curtain, come and listen to Yan's murmurings. He also raised the ordinary snails to the tip of his eyebrows. ○Feng Zhu picked it up hard. The sick mood is still like a sleeping silkworm. How can I bear the spring clothes by twisting my waist in front of the wind?
[Shaking Tingqiu]
Who makes the sad sound of the flute? Accompanied by a cold quilt and hugged alone. The old home is full of smoke and moonlight, the new pavilion is full of tears, and all the sorrow is flowing. ○The lanterns are dim, the geese are flying in the high buildings, and the night is cold and frosty. It's better to go back and find a place where the mist is warm and let you dream for a while.
[Pearl Order]
The soul of spring goes around the road to the end of the world. No multiples. Suddenly blocked, screen mountain fragrance. I asked Feihua in tears, but Naifeihua said nothing. ○The leakage is exhausted and the embroidered door is opened at dusk. The strange eaves and the sound of magpies are unfounded. No evidence. Last night there were even orchids and jade insects vomiting out.
[Second Poems of Western Brocade]
The cold comes to the Xichun curtain door. It was windy for another half day. The message on the edge of plum blossoms, three flowers and two stamens, is where leisure and sorrow come from. ○Only Xishan Meiwu. But I can't push it away. I often croak and sit facing each other with my white head, asking why I was dusty.
The flowers fall in Nanyuan and people go. The cold silence clouds the flutes and drums. The marmoset wears a treasure, whoever teaches it will win the reward and pay for the leisurely wind and rain. ○It’s not that things are jealous of each other. Dirty the phoenix hook lightly. The raw antifreeze is astringent, and there are thousands of crying marks, cutting off the path of Lingbo.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest look tired and horizontal. When the road is cut off, who will ask Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. Step by step jade man returns, a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute is flying in the cold. I complained to the east wind because it was very drifting.
[Seven Niangzi]
years old, the beauty has passed away and the lights have been put away. Singing about Weicheng and pulling up the slender willow trees. Who knows the south of the Yangtze River, spring is thin in the song. Qiu'e fights with Xingyunshou. ○The red building is separated from the rain at dusk again. Even if it is sold out, the wine will be sparse in all senses. Complaints and expectations, whether Dongfeng knows. There will always be times when you feel sad when listening to music.
[Jinzhangchun]
The screen is surrounded by mountains, and the water sinks and smoke curls up. There is no way to deal with old grudges. Liu Sanmian, Hua Yi smiled and took advantage of the red hairpin and hat. The butterfly sinks and the bee whispers. ○Pan has more autumn on his temples, but less spring on his waist. There is no such thing as a beautiful embrace. The wine waves are deep and the fragrance is old. Thousands of flowers are scattered around. Want to know.
[laughing and turning]
is like water. Concubine's thoughts. The two jade pendants of Xiang and Gao were tied. The east wind blows outside the mando flower. Wash your face without tears. May the man not cherish the flowers and become haggard. The haggard and flowery heart has no regrets.
[Breaking through the sand of Huanxi]
The cloud steps alone are rolled into green silk. No need to sing and dance to compete with new beauties. Complaining to Chun Ying, one by one. ○The pink and yellow moon disappears behind the curtain, and the blush on the face makes it photogenic. It's a pity that the silver screen joins hands, it's almost spring evening.
Two Songs of Flowers in the Backyard of Yushu]
Spring dress up again in the mirror. The swallows are at dusk and the orioles are at dusk. Returning suddenly after walking in the wild flowers, I tied a boat with incense and a bucket. ○The dust drives down the east wind. The remaining wine of spring swing. Change the mood of Chao Luan and Feng, and listen to the flute next door.
The song cloud is like a dream, and I sleep lightly. The feast comes at dawn. The red teeth are smashed to pieces, and the year is full of jealousy, and the sound of the jade flute is wonderful. ○A red bird peeks out from under the flowers in a spring window. Light makeup is better. The painting is so colorful that the skirt is so beautiful that it loses its fragrant grass.
[Eight Treasures Makeup Two Songs]
Who can advise you on the long star cup of wine? Three mountains away, dust comes and goes. On the right day of the month, all you have to do is drink in the waves and sing songs to protect them. ○Gold does not buy youth. Flying silk send, Bo Lao language. Asked where the qu chariot met, who understood the qu and the soil of Bo Lun's tomb.
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the two moths are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○ Jiang Lang hates him so much that he is afraid of seeing him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain was solved, and half of the strings on the bed were messed up.
[Qingjinzhi]
will return to the holiday to ask questions. Wherever you ask, there is no end of the world. Zigui just cries to his heart's content. The scenery is right and wrong. ○The east wind has fragrant red clusters in its eyes, and there are no dreams and white clouds flying by. The monkey and the crane should not know the heart period. Hugh list Beishan moved.
[花上月令]
The sunset is speechless and the swallows return to sorrow. There are also dim lights and small curtain hooks. There is half a roll of golden furnace ashes beside me, and the night fragrance remains. The sky is far away and the moon is shy. ○ I plan to call Gillian to Xiaoyin. It will last for ten years and I will rest in my dream. Who can tell me that my eyebrows are shallow and half-marked by autumn. Because I am thin in spring, I am afraid of climbing stairs.
[Jiang Yue Huang Zhongshan]
Choose a dream to spread Chu mat diagonally, test the spring and play Fujian tea leisurely. Flat sand and wild horses are covered by a short screen. At the bottom of the horizontal wave, the little water chestnut flower is ashamed. ○The palindrome of the Jianguan is reciprocated, and the word "Langgan" is slanted horizontally. The new voice is heavy and v. pipa. The intention of supporting and supporting is not for Mo Chou's family.
I am tired of traveling, and I am shouting at the wine bar. I hear the beeps incessantly, and the distant sky is like ink. The messy leaves are red, suddenly scattered, and there are traces of mandarin ducks. Facing the floating smoke and dark candles, the ancient curtains are painted, and the country disappears. ○The green window has been full of resentment, and there are trees at the end of the world, and the sound of sadness is mixed in. There will be appointments and heavy dreams among the fragrant bushes. I am afraid that the flowers in front of me will drift away, and I will always be melancholy. After all the dry loads have been wiped out, they have never been reduced. Qiutang Boli. But winning, tears in the mirror, breaking the clouds together.Xi Hua Chi Pavilion, protecting double drawing boards, light spring and low network. The shadows are smiling and dancing, the expression is graceful, and the worries are uncertain, and the swallows are fluttering and the orioles are moored. Don't bet on yourself, someone is there, watching through the wall. Put the clothes on the ground, rectify the phoenix hairpin, and the cicadas will still plunder the temples. ○The handsome tour in the West Garden seems like yesterday, the embroidered pillars are covered with moss and are easy to blow down. When I asked about it, I relied heavily on Chunjiao, and my eyes were full of lovesickness, and I couldn't hold my back. The pear moon is melting, and it is leisurely and evil. Dongfeng Hongsuo. At that time, where the fragrance was lingering on my hands, bees buzzed tiredly.
The green screen is fragrant and silent, and the bronze curtains promote the evening, and the jealous clouds are wandering. I remember that every year of Ye'e and Fangmo, the scenery changes several times, and the dust on my forehead is dark. Looking forward to the widow'e, for the spring scenery of the six streets. It is very clear that the blue luan has little faith, and the shaft of the moon is in the sky, falling and throwing it lightly. ○ Cangzhou is half lost in the old country, the copper and flowers are reflected in it, and the sky is full of sorrowful memories. I want to shed tears all over the place, and feel miserable for the Golden Immortal, who is about to die for the time being. Don’t sing into the small shadows of mountains and rivers. Play the mourning pipe. With a broken lantern on my back and someone supporting me, I dream of finding a cold post.
The broken incense traces lead to the cries of smoke and green feathers, and you can peek into the gap between the curtains. The dark tent paper, the remaining ink, and the musk dust mixed with it, half disappeared on the forehead of the palace. I endure the cold, have a makeup mirror, and cry in sorrow. I am disappointed that the new song scatters the snow, the old music has a faint fragrance, and the broken red cannot be found. ○I accidentally threw it in the dream of Yaotai, and the clouds on the beautiful mountains commented on the mooring, and I smiled shyly. When cooking, the cyan jade is always soaked in cold springs, ripples of sorrow, unable to change the spring. The soul has not returned, so I will not complain. High-rise building transverse flute , accompanied by dusk, backlight shadow, Cuizun can be seen.
The emotions are tied up with sorrow, and the bones are refreshed by the wild smoke. The sky is endless. Next to the dew well and the sparse leaves of tung trees, I believe that after passing through the cool dusk, I can paint the true colors of autumn. After the wine is finished, the geese and books are broken, and the clouds are floating in the northeast. Looking at the green mountains in the three mountains, the dust rising in the sea, it is difficult to remember the feelings. ○Come here and have fun. Looking into the fresh frost mirror, Wu smiles and his head turns white. Waiting to knock on the king and make a secret appointment with Luanchai, he is afraid that he will sleep soundly on the pillow and sell Yaobi secretly. I dreamed of entering Guanyu, but I was filled with hatred and cold waves. The west wind blows away, complaining and whispering, and accompanying others.
[ Qi Tianle Thirteen Songs]
The brocade nest is wet with red clouds in spring, and things are happening in the Forbidden City in a hurry. Leng Zong Yanjiao, stop bathing in the hot spring, and change the world with the east wind. In Chanyuan's dream, she deliberately put on new makeup, washed her cigarettes and combed her hair. Extremely jealous of Yaotai, the jade concubine is speechless and depressed. ○Lvzhang is melancholy and begs again. The night is full of wax, and his mood is unclear. I resent the coldness of the phoenix and the darkness of the toad, and the thick tears of Yanzhi are wiped out. The beautiful flowers are displayed across the street, and they are willing to lose to the west corridor, which is charming with spring peaches and plums. If you don't marry Hanzhang, the plum blossoms will fall and the remaining pistils will be regretted.
Longchi is light-colored and the east wind is gentle, and the spring light shines through the city first. Three rises and three sleeps, one wave and one sleep, decorate the cold time. Ninety-nine pieces of silk and silk are replaced by a new look. Mo Chen was amused. In the magpie tail incense, I waved my Hanyutang hand a few times. ○ Qingyin: Things are far away in the sky, the royal screen announces the office, and the jade case is in the velvet. Liuguan Time, a century-old cultural relic, is no ordinary nostalgia. Fangshao is all there, but there is no spiritual harmony in the dream, and the rain is soothing and the smoke is slipping away. I broke the moss paper and filled it carefully with plum blossoms and thin pistils.
The flowers in the city are like sleeping in the cold weather, and the rain can be heard all night long. The old foil lamps are floating, the new mud is clogs, and the misty spring mood is in the empty mountains. Looking for gulls on the road, asking who is the master of the severing of the alliance in the desolate snowy west bay. The astringent finger refers to the frost string, and the sorrow of the night window is pressed against the last year's score. ○ Tired cranes hang by the drooping rainbow, twittering thousands of times around the branches, complaining empty-handedly about missed dates. The bamboo book lattice is covered, the branches are intertwined with the mirror screen, and the sparse fragrance is abandoned. As Wu Bo said, he was afraid of stepping heavily on the rock and getting lost in the dust. Later, we made an appointment with a secluded neighbor, and the dream clouds separated the fields.
After half a day of cold weather and dusk, the plain forest gradually becomes more sad. Tired shadows nestle in the smoke, sour voices are silent in the moonlight, and the north and south of the city are full of dust. Chang'an html The four-year-old girl cries into Yanqiu again, pecking her all over her old home. Asking about the setting sun, Yuyan lamented about the old round fan. ○The birds flying south are astonished and dispersed in the sky. The bad formation is in the autumn, the empty boat is treading in the dark, where is Yang Kanlian's love. The dream of Jiangguan is short, and I am afraid that the old nest will be replaced every year. A single crane returns to nothingness, so don’t regret it when it is late.
The leaves in the high forest are unnoticed, but the autumn is less shocking in Chang'an. Tears cover the sparse lapels, sorrowful calls break the corners, and new knots are wounded in the arms. The road back is bleak, facing the swaying Cangzhou, surrounded by thousands of traces of dreams. Standing until the setting sun reaches its limit, the old friends will not arrive together with the wild geese. ○The chaos of the Qing Dynasty is reduced, the old sentences are embedded in the wall, and the tobacco is empty. The homeland is full of dragons, flying immortals support cranes, and the news is faintly heard Jiang Biao. The centrifugal force is quiet, playing a flute at dusk, the water and wind are still in tune. Send a message to Nanyun, the people of Maoling are getting older.
A light red is not as good as Qiong Niang's dimple, but a heavy step builds the new Asia. The musk hair is in fashionable makeup, the clouds are melting into greasy jade, and there are handfuls of ice silk in front of the mirror. The soul of spring gradually fades away, leaving the fragrant basket and fairy clothes, and the cold clouds are all removed. Awakening the loneliness, who is carrying the autumn couple? ○The man in the clothes has not been gone for a long time, and the painting railing is not warm, so he went to visit. The bright brocade is at the beginning of the frost, the setting sun is at the end of the tree, and the sadness is gone into the dusk. After dreaming of the fairy city, the remaining lead tears are secretly flooded, and I remember you in the clear night. The moon falls in the river sky, where can I write in the green silk?
Candle dragons fly onto the coral shore, and thousands of lights in the sky become buds. The dried scales cover the spots, and the scars are obtained, which are condensed into the continuous stream and collected in the morning. The smoke is moist and the dew is irrigating, so I wear a warm velvet towel, and I have been able to endure the cold. The old spring bushes are gone, but the poor Zhu Feng is still in her old nest. ○The beauty of the Yue Wang Terrace shines brightly on a stormy night, and the sky is half dark. The cocoon butterfly moves home, the scenery of Rongsha changes, who can see outside Gugen Ridge. The Jiao Ke has not been changed, so it is good to stay there every year, and I wish you the best. The dream is full of hibiscus, and the sun is blooming on the green sea.
I endure the tears of the new pavilion every year, and the country is too devoid of talent. The villages are empty and the battlements are destroyed. Where can we go in such a difficult situation? Frost is rising in all directions, with the sound of frightened geese, half-military. I am used to mourning the autumn, and it is always boring to belong to each other. ○Who can share the beauty of faith when you climb up the stairs? If you haven’t returned to the lake and the sea, how many separations can there be? Flowers will fade tomorrow, white hair will appear in the morning, and people will be surrounded by misty waves. The old gift of dogwood, looking at the floating clouds in the northwest, makes me wake up drunk from a dream. And the shadow of the dangerous fence, leaning on it without hesitation.
Hemp shoes With no intention of returning, I feel lonely in the world. The whole room pretends to be cold, and the guests return from far away, and the autumn tide of separation and hatred grows with them. The chanting is dirty, and I want to leave my life in the mulberry fields, so I go back to the place. Taking care of one's own mourning strings, who can save Du Ling in the Northern Expedition? ○The wind returns to the lonely tree gradually. I can’t climb up the side, and I feel melancholy on the wrong road. The Gujiao Central Plains, the vast swamps of mist, what a place worthy of alliance and restful soil. The lonely light is close by, Shengshou is lying on the deserted river, looking at it with his white head. The dream music book, the sound of wild geese in the south of the building.
After the lonely minister Jiang Hai Zhan Ming, his beloved wife returned to him for ten years. Du Lao's hemp shoes, Winter Lang's candles, and long-knotted goblet are in past dreams. Wu Gou is sitting there, willing to grow old and sink, and has always been flying. Don't worry about the world, don't work hard and enjoy the glory of the day. ○Leaving the country with a white head and a light fortune, the road has lost its ancient meaning and destroyed the fragrant urn. Doubei is climbing, Zhounan is falling, and the moon is still bright for thousands of miles. The hemp is folded and sent away, but the gulls still have the intention to cherish it. Yue Ke chants, and the sick shoulders are shrugged by frost at night.
The remnant cuckoo in Xichuan is crowing, but the country has not sold out its literary algae. At the beginning, Qingmin bloomed into green ink, and the wax flowed as brightly as possible. I hold the sutra alone, facing the kitchen there are several rainbows, and I hold a huge treasure. The rare book is so large that it is surrounded by crimson clouds. ○Tianzhang is relieved of his anger, and the luan returns to the phoenix dance and flies down to Pengdao. The secret book is engraved with flowers, the magic goblet is used to understand the secrets, and the family method can be revealed in the forest. The humble ministers chanted and prayed, thinking about entertainment and entertainment, and the signs of ZTE. Shijie Gongjian, right text and read and recreated.
The emerald green is slightly ethereal, the tower is Asia, the frost is beautiful, the sky is bright, and the island is in the sky. The mountains protect the clouds, the waves absorb the moonlight, and I dream about the windows separated by flowers. The fragrance period is dark, and I am afraid that the water leaves will turn red, and I will feel like last year. Who invites the east to hide in the old place? The pines and laurels in the hall are full of fun. ○Who knows the clearness of a lapel, the soft dust cannot fly, Ran Ran's poem. The merchant chants the whining flute, and the jade plays the idle flute, but only the gulls can speak. I am tired of traveling in the west wind, and I hope to return to the boat with great despair. I will pay for my leisure time. Stand up to the setting sun, and the flowers are deep even to the villa.
At dusk, even the trees are fisted and the crows are silent, and the river is cold and the flute cannot be heard. The leaves are frightened by the waves, the wind blows and the horns are broken, and the sad farewell returns to Luan thousands of miles away. The lamp window leans on itself, the ice gradually folds into Wu Mian, and the wine is thin and careless. There is still a lingering fragrance, but the deep night does not warm my old heart. ○The deserted chicken calls the tired traveler in vain, but when the frost and sleet gather, who will take advantage of it? The sound of arrows and water is numerous, the lattice yarn is light-colored, and the cold toads are sleepless. The green quilt in the west building is afraid that I will be sad overnight and it will be difficult to send the jade. The dawn waxes with red cries, and the traces of dreams are washed away with tears.
[Two Songs of Crow's Night Cry]
The spring clouds are deep in the virtual altar, and the chime is broken. Walk around the pine yin with double leads and come out of the vermilion balustrade. ○It blows constantly and the yellow line is mulberry stem. The sunset is speechless again, going down Cangshan Mountain.
The west tower gurgled all night, and the jade furnace was broken. Only the apricot blossoms are at the same temperature and the weather is cold. ○The spring tide is long, staring at the sky, the magnolia boat. If you don't believe in the word "Return Date", please read more.
[Dream Lotus Two]
Xixia Mingduanqi. Bring the east wind to the geese, and the bamboo shoots will be ten miles away. The spring road is empty in the mirror, and my mood is light. Pan Yu seeks wild drunkenness. It attracts autumn glances every year. Looking forward to visiting the mountain spirit, I regret that the servant girl is not ready, and the orioles are calling out. ○Turn to Yaotai’s eyes. It is suspected that there is a double success, so the chain is ended. The old dust is like a dream, and it has to be washed away by chaotic clouds. Stay in the saddle to eliminate Ming Cui. The setting sun is cold and cold. I am not afraid of the spring review, I know that the road to immortality is close, and the slightest steps sound feng shui.
curtain flower shakes Mengqi. Leading the way to Yunchao, we reached the village of Liva. The blue waves have no shore, and autumn is outside the golden opportunity. The cold clouds make the guests drunk. Xiting once tried shampoo. In front of the crisp flute wind, people calling for autumn are walking late, and fine dust is rising from their socks.○The scrolls are all at the bottom of Wuhun.com. The sound of the flute comes and goes, and the pendants are scattered in Zhongzhou. Tyranny asked again, smiling redly. The distant peaks are closed to sweep the green leaves. The mandarin ducks express their jealousy. Cooking at home, looking for old stories from barbarians, drifting across the five lakes.
[Raofo Pavilion]
The cyanotic smoke gathers in the sky, the incense outside is resting, and the decayed light shines on the Xiao Temple. Pearls and dew float on the pistils, which always urge handsome couples to get drunk every spring. Leaning against the painting railing again, who would have expected that peace and hatred are difficult to deal with. The remains touched the ground. There must be an autumn soul secretly awakening in the middle of the night. ○The characters on the wall are scattered, and the detailed words have been lost for hundreds of generations. What's more, the old friend shed tears when he was hurt. The west wind is always cold, and the flute next door is eerie. Don't know the future yet. There is a situation in the west hall where I sit alone and have no sleep. Around the flower shade, the traces of dreams are like water.
[Preface to the Oriole's Cry]
The light clouds are dim near the building, and the spring clouds are everywhere. The painting railings are wrapped around, the frozen willows are first weeping, and dark knots form in the sky. The little birds are calling, the years are passing by, and the desolate waves are wandering late, but there is no doubt. I am away from people, my heart is broken, the sun is setting, and the flakes are falling. ○In the past ten years of Donghua, I have been obsessed with wine and relied on my own faith. Looking at the road in the mirror, I can see the familiar West Pond, where the sound of Chu Yin flows and the resentment of red green is flowing. Endowed with deep feelings, Lanquan embroidery brush, tears bursting, copper fairy lead water. I am accustomed to hurting spring, and the butterflies and orioles are silent. How can I wake up from my dream? ○Liu Lang is getting old, Pengshan is just around the corner, and he is tired of old travels. When the sky is tight and the east wind blows, the crimson pistils turn upside down and the misty cuckoo sounds mislead people. The Milky Way is moving at night, the Pearl Palace is knocking in the morning, and the incense paper flies out of the Luan seal script, quietly and darkly, the sea is vast and the stars are hanging on the ground. Love is full of resentment, and the foggy cloud windows in the pavilion suddenly throw away the red weft. ○Old songs from Hengfen, new chants from quarrying stones, materials for painting are just late. Afraid of inspection, outside the furnace and smoked flowers, the flute music is on the edge of the plum blossoms, the wine is sober and the goblet is on the edge, Fengcheng Twelve. Drinking in the tent at the east gate, carriages and horses on the west platform, looking back at the place with white heads in the rivers and lakes, cherishing the beauty, and having to cover the wounds with high robes. The white gull is gone and it is difficult to tame it, the swallow curtain is alone, and its soul is wandering thousands of miles away.
[Fifteen Poems of Bodhisattva]
The Japanese in the green cloud fell into a low position and his servant girl was heavy, and he was doting on each other for no reason. Peacocks fill the southeast, and the water in Shenzhong is filled with water at night. ○Some people have red candles on their backs and light makeup on their eyebrows. Why do you plant spring sorrow? When spring breaks, the sorrow will not end.
Both faces should be angry and happy, and the new and charming look is unconstrained. The mirror is filled with tears, and I am jealous of spring. ○Two swallows in the middle pond, learning and speaking are different. The waist and limbs are worked hard, and the flowers are tired to support her.
The orioles' cries break through the red clouds and heat, depriving him of the season of deep sleep and flowers. If the swing is not dismantled, who can be patient in spring? ○The peaches are not fully climbed, and the beauty is lost in secret. Teach him Yu Wei Sheng, both of you will listen or not.
I sleep with my head covered with a long book in the phoenix nest, and I have no intention of raising flowers and fighting on the grassland. Supporting the dream to go down the west tower, I feel sad on the Furong River. ○The road is long and the oars are rushing, and the teams are bathing in red clothes. If we don’t live together in Hengtang, Qiuchao will be busy day and night.
The talented dragon cake leaves people with words, and the gift of treasures drives people away. Going to live in two hazy places, there is no way to connect with each other. ○I turn over the elephant game in the morning, and I am too lazy to draw the Qiongchai divination. Until the flowers fall, you will not know the sorrow of spring.
The dragon species sheds tears in front of the flowers on its sleeves, and its white head gathers its collar to smell of spring. I am walking wildly on the solitary tent, and the wind is blowing from east to west, north and south. ○ I glanced at the old tree, but no orchid buds were seen. Pouring wine behind the curtain, the pear blossoms are cold to the heart.
The wind is strong in Xizhou and the birds are chirping, and the swallows in Wenliang have no place to live. Looking at each other in the Yujin Hall, the heart is full of fragrance. ○The beauty of the mountain is frowning, and the spindle is spinning. Lang's intention is not clear, and the green window is idle and dreaming.
carp The wind is blowing and the waves are rising, and Huang Gu is knocking on the stars at night. The ice shuttle is gathered with a smile, and the river is newly crossed with a slight frost. ○The zither has long and short pillars, covering up the sound and having no owner. In the dream, green plums are thrown, and the flowers in the garden are spread out.
Flowers turned to Baole Xinfengqi, and Shen Shenfang's book gold shop closed. The mountain pillow is greasy and red, and it is like throwing the luan handkerchief at a feast. ○The brocade machine has no strength, and the dense threads are woven in pairs. Thoughts are written in ashes, and Chunluo calligraphy comes.
The dogwood brocade bouquet is narrow and the Hu shirt is narrow, and the wearer is sitting on his shoulders, leaning against the flowers. Turn back the fan to call for the wind, and the red birds will bloom in the spring window. ○I feel sad and heavy, thank you Xingyun for sending me. The sound of arrows and arrows is faint, and people with floating lanterns do not return.
There are staggered pairs of bee-ya and butterfly pavilions, and the four corners of the pavilion are decorated with tassels. A sudden breeze blew over the bridge, and the wild flowers turned red. ○ How come the jade seals and green tassels are full of twists and turns. Shang Lu understands the chain, but it is difficult to take action in front of others.
Weak Yang looked down at Qin Heng, the old man. The treasure belt is a sparrow and fur, and the east is at the top. ○The pills on my back are strewn across my back, and my hands are turning around. It saves energy and produces red mulberry, and the heart of the flower is fragrant.
The whole mirror is full of reds and rushes into a single boat, and the baht clothes are in turmoil. Xinyu made an appointment with Xia for dinner, but she regretted not having a book to repay him. ○ The fairy skirt has a thin pleat, covering the mandarin duck's sleep. The word brocade is too unfounded, and leisure and sorrow arise hand in hand.
My belt was untied last night and turned into knots, and I was afraid of the wind when it invaded the green space in the morning. Don't go near the west end of the river. You will be completely naked. ○The heart of the piano is with you, and the dream breaks the couple of Qin and Taiwan. The paper tube is full of autumn, and the mirror is red with tears.
The insects sing in the cauldron of warm medicine, and I am tired and don’t care about the remaining lamp.The river geese are sleeping in sorrow, and the thin curtains are catching the dawn cold. ○ A careful inspection of wine glasses will reveal the depth of alcoholism in autumn. Don't worry about your waistline, just wear it down.
[Four Songs of Tasha Xing]
A single shirt that shines in the water, a small fan with a fragrant fragrance. In the evening, I feel sad and lean on the railing. The cold gulls don't come back every once in a while, and the mirror's heart turns red overnight. ○After being drunk in the mountains and lakes, it hurts the heart. Autumn comes to draw complaints about Wucheng. The tired guests of Xie Tang always disappear, and no one sheds tears to wet the flying swallows in the west.
The wax snow suppresses the plum blossoms, and the fragrant ash drains the wine. Those who cross the river fall behind the east wind. Crazy reputation and short clothes, separation and separation are like willows in a long pavilion. ○The frost in Yan Guan is heavy, and the moon in Liang Yuan is thin. Thirty years of scenery for nostalgia. I spent my old age with tears and Jiangnan, and spent my time worrying about the messy flowers on the wrong road.
The name of the word "jin" is fragrant, and the meaning of the strings of the piano is wonderful. Twelve garland flowers. When the wind comes, there should be the harmony of Feng Sheng, and when the moon shines, the eyebrows of the moth will be bowed. ○The snow is clear and the clouds are white. Yutai The family law is thousands of years old, who can interpret the flow of waves in the south of the Yangtze River, and share the king's beautiful words to eliminate debts.
Flowers win more than time, love words in the basin. It is a majestic night of ice and snow, and there are many clouds at the end of the day. How can you, sir, be an idle chanter? ○Short brown romance, the Great Wall sounds pricey. Song Yi's poems were written in the same society, holding a cup and dancing with a sword, and scrambling for a picture of smoke and silk.
[河都神]
The wax smoke of the candle trees is faint, and the white horse in the flower robe comes. The sky is moving across the sea, green dust is flying, and the flags are full of flags in the morning and evening. ○The wet mist lingers in the Banzhu Courtyard, and wild crows circle like an array. The emperor's son did not return in the evening of autumn, and he dreamed of the bronze chariot in his single quilt.
[Four Poems of Linjiang Immortals]
The old covenant has been lonely for ten years, and the high buildings have been cleared overnight. The blue sky is like water with geese flying in the air. Under the fluttering bamboo, there was the sound of sleeping on the bed. ○It is a pity that the desolate stream stirs up dreams, and the apes and birds in the simple book are still frightened. Call Mingyue urgently to send you a cup. Eliminate worries and spend your life with a pair of smiles.
There is no place to talk about the lovesickness at the bottom of the flowers, the incense remains and the candles linger. The spring cold is distributed to the single habitat. The sorrow is greater than the amount of brocade, and the hatred is curled up in Luoyi. ○Who believes that by the side of Xie Niangxiang Pavilion, the brocade characters at the end of the world are mesmerizing. The willow flowers are blown by the wind and the orioles are singing. Don't weep on your lonely pillow, looking for dreams in the west of the moon.
Keep the money in front of you and drink deeply, and don't have to worry about it. The bright moon lingers on the tall building. There is no doubt about waving the glass, but it is not appropriate to stop playing the flute. ○Personnel information has been lonely for a long time, and dreams come to China. I can't stop crying at midnight. There are love songs in the small sea, but there are no girls watching the high hills.
Autumn is gone and I have nowhere to go. I chant leisurely, drunkenness and restraint. Who knows that old travel in Xishan is wrong? The spring bamboo shoots in the street are cheap, and the fish are fattened in the net. ○ I will never ask about the fate of this life. Chunfan will return to his post. Only Ying Yang is my teacher. To avoid people, the horses are coiled, and the eyebrows are placed accordingly.
[Xia Fang Yuan Si Province]
sells the powdered rice and reduces the incense tube . Bend your knees on the copper shop to support you and fan the wind. The fragrance of weeping lingers in the dew of the tung trees beside the well. The meaning of Yi Qiu's words is red, the sleeves are red.
The palace willows are green and the water is red. Tears and eyelashes listen to the orioles, Xie Niang returns home in spring and misses her. It's better to have the same mind as Weizi. The two phoenixes are whispering in the cool night, in the middle of Shu strings.
The autumn water falls, and the stone lotuses are empty. Stepping into Lingbo, the old flowers and skirts are red. Across the river, east wind blows in the evening. For whom to drive a boat and pick hibiscus.
The joy is cold and the jade platform is empty. Resentment enters the Xiangtian sky, and dreams return to the waves with red fishtails. Qulan blows the wind. Countless colorful clouds rise in the east of Jintang.
[Qin tune lovesickness]
The east wind blows in the dream and is as lazy as the clouds, and it is the song that occupies people's arms. The flight of wild geese is low, and there is a mess of dust. ○ I am walking alone with my mind on the stiff treasure se, and I am wearing a scarf in the Pavilion of Leisure on both sides. Xiaolianzhuhu is still from last year.
[ Jade House Spring eleven poems]
The dream of the silver screen is warmer than the hairspring, and the cicada and daisy brush are warmer than the comb luan mirror. The two moths are eager to learn and the mountains are far away. How many spring sorrows are full of them. ○The book does not come late for joy, it will haunt me thousands of times. There is no basis for every word of lovesickness. It is better than the south tower behind the geese.
Beside the Jinse dressing table, the sky in the south of the Yangtze River is so far away when I wake up from my dream. If you change it to Pan Yanjing, you can see that Chu's waist skirt doesn't care about her thinness. ○Don't regret meeting each other late when we are in love. We will hold the red incense in our hands and cherish it. Ming Dynasty There is an east wind in the land, and there is no place to persuade with hundreds of lamps and thousands of cups.
The gold-winged bun invades the morning silk, and the jade poppy in the water feels short. silk dyeing is in urgent need of spring, and the red color will be lighter before washing. ○The scenery of throwing shuttles reminds us of the Spring Festival Gala, and the Beidou hangs on the city to hear the leaky board. I pick a luan as a ribbon and send it with peach roots, so that I can share the warmth and coldness of your heart.
My heart is full of charm, but my husband's intentions are mixed. The flowers cannot be connected without stems, and the geese cannot fly away if they are sentimental. ○The spring breeze does not allow the flowers to stay idle, and the whispers lead to the empty clothes. I will ask you about your return sooner or later, and you will look at your temples in shame.
The music and songs are quiet at night on the cloud screen, and no one is allowed to listen to them in sorrow. Yan Gui is a talker at the bottom of the flower, and wakes up when the moon is full. ○ Yingying hates the dimples and looks into the mirror, but hates the shadows on the temples if you don’t believe in them. There is an east wind outside the five-shift curtain, and tomorrow the flowers in the South Garden will settle.
Waking up at dusk from the farewell wine, walking around the West Pond, the waves are like mirrors. The rain adds sourness to the green plums, and the wind clears the cherries. ○The toad flowers still illuminate the deep path, and the return date of the annoyance and chaos has not yet been determined. The dream is heavy, the wax lamp is red, and the bed is half cold and heavy, and the quilt is left.
The oil walls of the embankment are soft from car dust, and the sleeves are dyed with spring water. When will the orchids crow and the eyes clear, and the osmanthus leaves will make up the light in front of the eyebrows. ○The penis leaks into the Qiong tube at night, and the musk deer smokes at night after returning slightly drunk. The little toad is like a mirror, don't peep into sleep, it is displayed by one's own hands on the winding mountain.
It is already the setting sun and dusk, who can live under the albizia flowers . I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no fixed path. ○It was not a sentimental encounter at that time, and Hongying went with the water. Don't sleep alone to find each other. There is no place to join hands in the dream.
The sound of the boat is similar to the sound of crows rolling over Wu, but the words on the machine are not sent to Wu Niang. Just by the tide coming downstairs, I will take the old and new tears in front of you. ○The bath orchid joins hands with the year to eliminate the intoxication of music and songs. The time of flowers does not hurt the spring, but the sorrow of spring is not solved.
A young man who doesn't make any plans to kill off his youth will live up to the banquet and banquet. The cuckoo sings on a good day and night, so we must pay attention to the spring today. ○The setting sun is full of smoke and willow ileum, and the light rain orchids sheds a thousand tears. Waiting to find it in front of me, I want to avoid the spring sorrow except being drunk.
It is already the setting sun and dusk. Who lives under the acacia flowers? I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no way out. ○At that time, there was no amorous encounter. The wind blows and Hongying goes with the water. At dusk, we lay alone on our pillows, looking for each other. There was no place to join hands in the dream.
[Cockfight Chapter 2]
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the twins are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○Jiang Lang hates him to the end of the world, and is afraid to see him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain is solved, and half of the bed is messed up.
Meibian respects you, and remembers the horizontal branches. The post road is far away, and the sorrow is shallow. Looking at the dusk, no one can be seen due to the cold. ○The green servant girl's pink cheeks are still there, why does the sound of the green bird change? The moon is late and moss is growing all over. Dreaming about sparse fragrance, playing the flute in the middle of the night.
[ Tang Duoling three poems]
The first month of the month is slanting in Tiange, and the colorful clothes are leisurely in the old home. If the disease is caused by the west wind, it will also protect the screen. Enjoy the feeling of lonely and cold butterflies, but the fragrance is not there, and there are crows on the temples. ○The frost on the side of the hat fades, and all kinds of feelings increase in front of you. The people who roll up the curtains are both at the end of the world. The truth is that when you look in the mirror with autumn makeup, people are, after all, lighter than flowers.
sweeps away horse hoof marks and eliminates condensation and oil wall dust. The red heart and the frost are frequent. A jade hook sloping along the road, no longer intended, Douluo skirt. ○The dark green is charming, and the orchids are desolate in ancient spring. From year to year, we garrison the deserted villages in cold weather. Tears burst into the west wind, and the original small fire is still there, but the soul has not been summoned.
The shade of the corridor turns to the sparse locust trees, and the round toads illuminate the upper steps. Relying on Kong Zun and wandering in cool dreams. How many Qingxiang and Yao people complained, how many times, cranes flew over. ○The calyx of the lamp is half turned into ashes, and the short book is written thousands of miles back. Both Baoyan and Wangui are in bloom. In the past, all the people leaning on the railing had changed. When I asked what happened, I fell in love with the world.
[ Yanshan Pavilion ]
All the rain is gone, the light is pale yellow, and countless crows are frightened overnight. I hate Hannan. In the old days, there was only chaos and dust following the fence. After sleeping for no reason, I forgot about the misty rain in Longchi. Why bother. He pressed Che Yiliang again and replaced him with gold thread. ○It is a taboo habit to worry about one's life experience and rely on solitary roots. The clear frost accompanies people when traveling. In the west bagpipe, the mountains are full of eyes, and the spring cannot be held by silk threads. Since I am afraid of the waist of the palace, I have often been jealous of people leaning against the curtain. Go back. Still dreaming about the wind all day long.
[Three Songs of Qi Liao's Resentment]
Falling to the ground, the wine is as sweet as snow, and the nightingale wakes up from the drunkenness. With eyes open, there is a curtain across the water, the color of the weeping poplars, the pavilion in the sky above the green sky. A new sorrow has arrived by the gull's side. I respect the guests in front of me, and I am afraid of the hair on my hair. Leaning quietly on the fence, you can see wind and flowers everywhere, and the flat spring is scattered and full of thoughts. ○I didn’t get tired of traveling. When Wu Hao's shadow happened, when would he stack the drums and cast a bow? The clear waves of the green ladle, ten years of words, sigh with sorrow, the night light is silent and silent, always sold out, the love of my hometown. Flowers fly to Fengcheng, the east wind is shorter than the dream, and the tears are zero.
The flute is heard and the cup is gone, the mash is frozen and the tears are congealed. Facing the cold moon, I lie on the beam in the sky, the maple forest is black, and my dreams are broken without any basis. When I was young, Huang and I gathered together to say goodbye. It hurt our eyes, and weary guests looked at each other. Strange miasma flowers, haggard and broken red silk, hurried away, looking for the fallen alliance in the night ditch. ○The most important thing is my old friend Maoling. Rubbing the green ink, the feelings seem to be drunk but still awake. Talking about the drifting in detail, there are mourning geese, two or three calls, the horizon calls back Liaohe, teaches recognition, the old spring city. The soul of the poem is shocked, the flowers are in the shade, and the dust is dark.
The fragrance of willows blows in the shop, and the wine curtain outside the river is green. Next to the water, the cuckoo whispers, and under the spring shade, I call to the flag pavilion. Middle-aged people are full of sorrow and resentment, latent urges to change, snow on their temples and nightmares. When the peak rises and the river passes, no one can see it, and the dust of the old country grows dark. ○ I died of illness in Maoling. After the Bronze Immortal left, Jie Hui was afraid to ask Kunming.The atmosphere is full of tranquility, the old man is Mi Jiarong, the scenery of falling flowers in the south of the Yangtze River, and the love of ten years. A grieving infantryman, I wish I was drunk with sorrow and shed no tears.
[Ugly Nuerman]
A few crows fly low, flying through the wet smoke and chaos, secretly leading to the end of the year, and the columns are white. Leaning thinly on the branches, I dream of the city without leisure. Qionglou is dark and gloomy. The jade concubine is tired of dancing, but still loves the cold. ○The Ba Bridge is gone, the flowing water is soft and the jade shines back on the saddle. The forest outside and the mountain scenery at dusk are left, and Qin's servant girl is resentful. In the flute, at the end of the world, the silk clothes will return the dream lightly. On the slope of Langgan, the plum dust has not been washed away, and it is difficult to care for the lonely joy.
[Four Poems of Ruihexian]
Chechenluo Xinyu. There is Yaopu Qinzun, and the traces of the old nest are still there. The cold current Fengcheng is behind, and the west peak is half calyx, facing people. Good neighbors are accustomed to buying, so they share furniture and broken books. Cherishing the lingering fragrance, desolately entering the treasure bush, it is easy to become haggard while drinking. ○Don’t blame me. Hundred-year-old trees, empty mulberry trees for three nights, leisurely and generous, my house is full of love. Hidden in the ear, surrounded by thousands of people. You must be aware that you are a working bird. Three coins in the wind branch should not be used as a place for pilgrims. Tired and sad at dusk, I lean on the barren fence, with the thin vines facing me alone.
The spring shirt is stained with tears. Western geese arrive at the guest's pillow and leave their souls slightly. Old Weidu in the south of the city is as beautiful as the end of the world, and the flowers look like mist. Qin Zheng spreads his music, but he is afraid of wine and jade pillars stained by dust. Ask Ma Bo, Wanli Gubai, Du Juan, who knows the minister? ○Moonlight. Tonight, after all the changes, I recall the memories of Chang'an, the children of two families, tired of traveling in their remaining years. The wild reed is about as small as it can be. Don't look up when you go up to a tall building. Spring in the south of the Yangtze River is good, but the setting sun is the hardest. Across the green mountains, who cares if everything is fine? Go and live in the broken clouds.
It rains constantly. The west wind blows away again, and the wild geese leave the river. The lanterns are dim and the hall is empty. I am carelessly throwing away my books, and I am sparsely eating my wine cup. It's easy to be tired when I'm lonely, thinking about lovesickness, and the gray of spring is lingering. The material sinks into scales and does not send aromatic sound. Complaints enter the highest building. ○Need to read. The belt is wide and narrow, the camp quilt is cold and warm, the mirror has deep and shallow frown, and no one is watching. Who cares? Meng Yun is in chaos. Afraid of the curtains and candles hanging on the back, the jade hairpin knocking, and the tears in my eyes from the end of the world. If you count your youth, there will come a time when your age is getting late.
is filled with resentment. Staring into the mirror, I feel worried about my gray hair. Being homeless makes me sad to say goodbye. I am still in love with the new sound, and I am still in the past. Sit and read in the mulberry field, let the soft red and gray change the calamity. The rest of Xingge and Xishe stored manuscripts. Shi Ting hated his bones. ○No idea. I am tired of traveling in Chang'an, and I pay my respects to the cuckoo again. I am lost in my dreams, and I am crying in the snow in China. Thirty-year-old, broken heart. Afraid of climbing the stairs, my eyes will be red and have no ground, and the grass in the south of the Yangtze River will stop for a while. Relieve the sadness, the Huai River in my hometown, the moon is shining late at night.
[Eight Poems on the High Balcony]
The smoke from the floating trees is gone, the seals have faded, and the remaining cold is still the moss. There is not much meaning in the painting, and the beauty is usually buried in the dust. The setting sun means to pity each other, which means that the heart is worried and cannot tolerate gentleness. And sell him, with a cool toad on his forehead, to accompany the deep respect. ○Is the jade lady returning from Donglanbu? There is half a bundle of incense left in the bonfire, and the quilt is embroidered solitary and warm. According to the agreement, the sound of the eaves drips through the curtain until dusk. When the morning comes, the spring tide will turn away. Ask who it is and know the ice soul. Thank you for the east wind, don't look at the flowers, but worry about the roots.
Even the smoky smoke and the clear waves in the small mirror make up the West Lake in miniature. The language becomes like a bird, and the time is like a fine grass. It is clear that the red cotton road of Jade Pagoda is full of smiles but the guests are sparse. Too hasty, dragging the road to the end of the world, stacking drums in the corner of the city. ○A cup of pins and Luofubi account for the fresh wind and sun, the sky and the beard. There is the sound of cuckoos, and the morning glow is falling into the sky. Dancheng is not the same as Vimalakirti, I am afraid that the flowers will be scattered and the people will be more isolated than the mountains. Ironing returns to the soul, Xiaojie is full of flowers, leaving a verse like this.
The floating foil lights are down, and it is drizzling when I return to the building. The next year brings leisure and sorrow. The red pistils bid farewell to spring, and the east wind blows over the deserted ditch. The golden twins form a knot in the heart, but the dream is still lingering, and Yan Leng scratches his head. Leaning against the empty curtain, the bright mirror lingers, and the temples change into flowers and shame. ○The east wall sent Mr. Xianyang away lightly, fearing that in the next three years Chu Yu would fall ill. The waves are turbulent, and the white bird is gone and hard to stay. The flowers in the barrier are laughing and flying in the spring language, bearing old feelings and beautiful jade horns. Although it is cold and cold, there are many twists and turns, and it will be the festival of Qin Yu.
Cold jade and autumn clouds, decaying silk and dim willows, and alum heads are lightly painted on the forest hills. Xiyue was born late, and she looked down and could not see her sad face. Respect the sky and still love the earth. Accompanied by resentful insects, whispering in the wilderness. The most popular. I dream of floating lanterns alone, singing and throwing poles continuously. ○The partridges are singing about old things in the south of the Yangtze River, counting on Qiao Feng’s family background, and people are relaxing outside. In the thirty-year period of Wu Qi, He Tianchang occupied the high cold. In the chaotic night of the countryside, there are flying geese flying across the mountains. Near the west wind, when the sorrow is doubled, the poet will never return.
The red cold silk basin, the dry ink and colorful posts, who will remind you when the years are gone. Every inch of spring is covered with cold ashes. I just believe that the east wind is lazy tonight. Negative cold chants, residual drunken feelings. Ask Guan Shan. The plum blossoms in the flute have been blown open several times. ○The sound of the neighbor's drum is indistinguishable, and it wakes up the hazy pavilion and the residual dreams. The shadows of horses and the sound of chickens, the news from the horizon is still guessing. The empty hall is filled with ice and snow, fearing that it will be out of date and spring will not return.The most boring thing is to take Wu Shuang and drink deeply.
Short moss flying silk, long waves wrinkled, city curtains river willows competing for green. When you are drinking and drinking, you are still like a flag pavilion when buying spring. The colorful flags remember the flower's birthday, and the green windows reflect the mood of the children. All arrangements were made, the trusses were painted with Wu's strings, and the pavilions were made with Qin's zheng. ○The old man does not want to be cared for, but to mourn and get drunk for the rest of his life. There is no owner of the east wind, and the labor and complaints are silent. There are a few hazy clusters of snow on the east side of the mountain. This year, we can see the Qingming Festival again. Afraid of meeting again, She Yan returns and complains about Piao Ling.
Blowing the sword to drive away sorrow, waving a cup to persuade the shadows, the lake is full of warmth and tenderness. As soon as the waves are cleared, the guests come and take time to relax. The next year, I had a misty dream in the sky, next to the clear clock, I endured the news. The sleeves are scented with fragrance, carried to the empty hall, and the traces of poems are ironed. ○ Covering the door is not idle smoke and water, it is the most bitter to wash away the autumn heart, but also to support the spring. The small pavilion is brightly lit, and the lonely moon is looking for someone late at night. Holding a hibiscus flower in your hand, you can remember the success of your eyes. Then I followed you, held Huang Hua in my arms, and guarded my solitary root.
Medicine wraps up care, plum branches iron the eyes, and time changes the world. The harvest is blurred, and the red flowers are forgotten. Wind and rain often come together on the bed, and the cold chants and leisurely drunkenness disappear. Don't even mention it anymore. The rooster crows and the torch flies. ○The Ming Dynasty was a shocking seventy. The two old houses had a long credit in the Old Testament. Drunk and leaning on Tusu, I would rather know the liver and lungs. The fighting was full of sorrow and trouble, and he had no words for Alien. But because of Yi, the Beidou railing is staring at Beijing.
[Ten Slow Songs of Magnolia]
In the lush greenery of Yecheng Mountain, there are several shades and white gates. The walls are covered with flowers, which have been replaced easily, and the monuments are old and carved with moss. Far away. Dang Qingxi hates, there are vicissitudes of life, still makes the soul ecstasy. Jiang Hong is still in his eyes, and cranes are flying in the sky. ○ Rock pepper, the Zen words are desolate, and there are no sentences to express the immortality. Counting the merits of resisting sparseness, dividing notes and companions, one case is fluttering. Tonight, I am sober and the moon is setting, I am afraid that the west wind will blow the snow on my hair. Roll up a letter of green ink, and pay all the sadness to the Southern Dynasty.
asked Donglan Shouxue, if it still disappears, when will it be Qingming? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown where it belongs, the moss is greener and the flowers are upside down. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○In many lives, there will be guests who cherish the fragrance alliance and worry about the inscriptions of acne flowers. Despite all the tides and winds, the Japanese were forced to fall, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
Give Minghu a song to recognize the trees, the year of Zhongxing. Count the small team on the outskirts, the barrier of the Central Plains, and have nothing to do. Decaying fence. At the old singing place, I asked Yueming and Yuanhe when they would return. The dream of the battleship is broken by the east wind, and the makeup of the dowry is cold. ○Unprovoked, the gold and greenery embrace the sandalwood music, abruptly interrupting this lake and mountain. Think of Wu Feng and stand on horseback, lotus flowers and osmanthus seeds, stop singing in the fields. In Yanyuan, I didn’t buy a fishing rod because I was afraid that fishes, dragons and wind would disturb the gulls’ sleep. Drunk and wiping away the remaining tears in the West City, the shadow of the faded Yang on the temples is still there.
Behind closed doors, spring has not yet awakened, and the warblers are singing again, reporting the fragrant season. In the lonely mood, the crisp flowers are shadows, and the honey torch sings newly. Peep. The frost on the mirror's hair is wisps on the temples, and I bear the burden on my neighbors and present them with ancient plum branches. Lao He wrote a letter through the maple window, waiting for the moss and bamboos to be lost in despair. ○At the end of the world, my sick pillow has not returned yet, and I wake up at dawn. Laughing at Dongfeng’s homeland, red and green, all are deceived by sorrow. Fragmentation, tired writing every year, one year's worth of fragrance is too much to mention. The steps in the middle garden are waiting for care, and the curtains are small and wet in spring.
Listening to Ku Tong's words, I know your hatred, ten years later. There are many tears and flowers, and I am lost in Yan Lao. Spring has been gone for a long time. Destroy each other. Menghua's hometown, strangely dressed in single clothes, with no way to escape the dust. Jin Se looked at Cheng, who was drunk for a while, with his head turned gray and his eyes lowered. ○ If the difference is bad, Jinguan willow will become silk, and Li Xufei will be banned. Asking how to spend time, the smell of officialdom in the setting sun, the passing of time in the heart? The barbarians, the old crazy and rational, have fallen into the Yin River and the cuckoos are singing outside. Don't go up to Wu Tai and look north, the slanting smoke and chaotic water are depressing.
Lianghua dew falls in the evening, light autumn is here, and the water is west of the fence. Looking at the clear waves on the temples, sparse people and green walls, I am used to being lonely. More disabled. Sleeping late and sick, there are mourning crickets and diyans in front of me. The anxiety of being alone is getting worse, and old friends are paying new bills to Wu Jian. ○Unexpectedly, painting a fan of green mountains invites dreams to fade away. The traces of Nai Qiuhong are easy to catch, but it is difficult to climb Jinliu. When I am sad, I take care of myself with the light behind my back. I cannot tolerate the sound of rain in my middle age. Don't forget that it's late in Cangjiang, and the dust can't reach the gull's side.
Ma Cheng was in trouble, but with tears in her eyes, she asked Xiling. Believe that there are beautiful lakes and mountains, but boring bottles and bowls, and tired eyes cannot be green. wandering. Shuilou's writing requires a boat and a series of feelings in his later years. Just before leaving the tomb, the old man is really riding a whale. ○ Yao Qiong, I asked Xuanting where to go, but the nine debates were in vain. Calculate the floating and disappearing, resist the sparseness of fame and fortune, and pass on the sutras of thoughts. In the dark, whispers are whispered on the night stage, and the wind blows in the throat and the flute is silent. Tears in the eyes and dust in the paper are ignored. Who can share his life in the auditorium?
Washing Meghan off her face, changing years, with the sound of rain.Look at the flowers in the honey torch, the silk dish is more beautiful, and the curtain is more fragrant. Loudong. The crows haven't risen yet, the singing dust is dark, and the curtains are still trembling. The chants and the jade paper are mixed together, and I am still wandering around Jinqi. ○Happy. Half-cold green dragon. Buy Wu Peng for trouble. The smiling yellow tangerine has not been broken yet, the make-up is washed clean, and the east wind is used to the humidity. When we meet again, behind the mirror screen and in the dream, I ask when the sleeves of the palace will turn red in the cold weather. The flowing clouds are moving with both hands, and the old love is annoying Qiong Zhong.
Next to the osmanthus trees in Canglang, written with sincerity, this chapter is about a small mountain. Laughing at the lotus clothes made by Chu, why is Wu enjoying the festival? Feixian. Suyun is in the place, and the hands (left and right) and south bucket are scattered in the world. There is no need to be attracted by the flowing clouds, but the beauty remains in the mirror. ○Youzen. Cooking tea and cigarettes on the couch, hair on hair from a few years ago. Cherish this meaning, the worries sink into the land, and the lonely dreams climb to the sky. On the side of the gull, keep the stability in the later period, and manage the double fiber to pass the wild gull. If you are better than me, I will look for you. There should be someone outside the world.
I asked about the thin snow in Donglan. It is still gone. How about Qingming Festival? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown attack point, more green moss, upside down and borrowed red flowers. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○Many births. Visitors cherish Xiangmeng. The flower inscription of "Chou". Gradually, all the winds were exhausted, and the Japanese were forced to support them, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
[Five Poems of Manjianghong]
If you don’t believe in the immortal poet, to this day, there is no place to bury your sorrow. Carrying it in your hand, you can keep the four seals of health, and you can sleep alone in Huangge. It's so dirty that I've been rewarded by the dust, and I haven't changed to a leisurely life. If you are about to leave, why would you care if you go through the tomb? Chang'an City. ○Literal impairment and difficulty with vertebrae. Distribution and distribution, water flowing eastward. It's not as good as cooking Shanhu. Who is my friend at the end of my stay? I will end up playing in seclusion. Asking about the sacred mountain, the wind often leads the boat back to the boat, so what's going on?
put his staff down and asked who it was, Gao Xia Zhenyi. Outside the dust, there are sleeve handles on floating hills and shoulders on Hongya cliffs. Paper tubes from across the county are delivered every day, and clouds emerge from the mountain barrier. The letter liver and intestines are like two poets in the snow, sharing the same breath. ○ Xunyang Guo, incense burner color. Remember once hanging, west wind seat. In an old life, all I owe is the pair of clogs. Whoever is born in a boat will be a pure companion; when he enters the mountain, he will be a stranger the next day. The rest of the year is cold, the wind and snow dream of Kuangjun, and the short position is white.
The gate faces Qingshan and is called Jiuyin and Donggao Pavilion. There are waves of red peach blossoms and plum blossoms on the shore. A small building is the best place to hide the case, and the Oubo coupon has not been settled for ten years. Asked when, the effect of the essay is hidden, and the gentleman is lazy. ○My chest is lumpy and I feel sad and sleepy. After grinding and grinding, there are thousands of volumes of books. Repairing the rafters with laughter, sending sea swallows in the air every year. A long-term strategy is not like drinking from the river, short songs are like resting and Nanshan gangue. I like to go to the class, but I don't take it easy when I am young. I am late in Cangjiang.
The ancients are accumulated and the sky is empty. Who can ask, it is auspicious and golden auspicious weapon. The charm is right, it is judged to be suspended and half blocked, and the earth flowers are condensed. Sanshou Xisi's Ode to Work, a new interpretation of Chinese characters. Accompanying the ship, Mi's boat floats on the Cangjiang River under the rainbow moon. ○Good at writing and good at writing, but secretly. The past is vague, and the golden legend is written down. When asked about sinking, how long will Jiuding people be free? Small buildings all contain the beauty of mountains and rivers, and new poems must have the aura of clouds and thunder. It was late at night, and when I came back from Changle's dream, I burst into tears.
There is no shade in the big tree, it is not like the clouds, and there are many fragrant carvings resting. Facing each other, the wind and rain of spiritual flags are fierce today. The ancient heart is as solid as iron stone, no one can plant it with time. On the branches facing south, there should be old cuckoos singing, which is very sad. ○Treacherous juniper is cast, and injustice is settled. The Orchid is destroyed, and Qiu Qiu is destroyed. Ask Qiao Ke, how often do you see Jin Ou round and missing? The red bird must be weeping in the air, and the green moss may be stained with Chang Hong's blood. The mountains are empty, jade bones are cold and holly green, and the mausoleum is sad.
[Four Songs of Huanxi Sha]
In the song, the soul of spring cannot be summoned, the rain is coming from the flute on the Hengtang, and the wet smoke is cold on the west bridge of Liuyi. ○One water will wipe out the old covenant, and the chaotic peaks will be like smiles and manage the new beauty. This year, I will be free to stop the wooden railings.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like ocher and water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the clouds are returned when the bun on the window mountain is lifted; the place where I walk alone is not desolate and cold.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
[Nanpu]
Nanpu Yu pattern is born, it is the night, the rain marks are dyed by the new daisy. A warm and warm green, the road to the end of the world, Jiang Lang's secret soul is everywhere. It hurts the spring deliberately, the old love is shy and the learning is shallow. The brocade scales are about to be sent, but if there is no good dream, the heart will be broken, and the flowers will flow eastwards. ○We gathered together several times to see the riverbanks, and we watched the Mandarin ducks and swallows stay in the Qiang. The most miserable person is wearing a gauze, crying and making up, but there are thousands of teardrops. Tongci is slightly supportive, and Jinglan is gone. What's the matter with the little wind? The furrowed brows remain the same, and the boat is far away.
[Cuilouyin]
The beads are covered with clouds, Qiongtai is decorated with pink, and the east wind is full of reds. The years are changing with surprise and darkness, and the corners of the curtain are filled with fragrance. Tassel spring bottom. There are tired feathers nestling in and crowing, and idle bees staying asleep. Whoever cooks and smokes at night will look more haggard than anyone else. ○It seems to be remembered. Jialu Qinzun, who is familiar with Yu Panhanbi, has learned a strange calligraphy. There are several round clusters of light shade, still adorning the flowers in the east. The plains are desolate, clouds are scattered, and the wind is blowing. Excuse me for being drunk, Xu Lang. Today, the paper is filled with chaos and sorrow.
[Three Songs of Danfeng]
The garden is like embroidery, the rain wets the red flags, and the dust floats in the fragrant pavilion. The dusk is independent, and the curtain of spring is still beautiful. They are clearly a handsome couple, but in an instant they are arrogant. The alliance between the mirror and the phoenix is cold, and the clothes and makeup are thin. The green bird is sending messages, and the silver hook is carefully recognized, and the tears are flowing through the corners of the paper. ○ From now on, don’t worry about your intestines. When you remove your soul, you will always be afraid of the evil waves. The night is dark and the sky is cold, all the lead is washed away, and the eyebrows are green. The old love has already faded away without being told. Red candles and jade hairpins are easy to break, but regrets can be grasped again. In Ying'e's dream, Zhi Shi was thinking about it.
Sitting in a secluded room with a bed, a spring window with grass, and a bright candlelight. The pearl ship arrives, and the beetle dust is lightly unrolled. In Yuanhe's era, Yixi's titles were everywhere, and there were bookstores everywhere, which could eliminate the mausoleum valley. Passing by, the clouds and smoke spread across the province, arousing the Ci Immortal, and a smile accompanied the loneliness. ○According to the music flute, the world changes, the old apple is broken, the green is desolate and the fragrance is left. The creeping grass is full of wind, and the very fragrant pepper is sparse with rain, so that everything can continue. There is a touch of cold green of Benfeng beside the ancient and modern. Seeing off Feihong at night, I lean on the railing in despair. Ancient Yun hides, treasures the blessing of words.
Jun admires the plump frost flowers, and the rhyme is like a solitary string, like a book guest in autumn. Orchid and Tsuen are full of flowers, so it should be called the southern country of love. The song changes the temples, the old man's thoughts wander and ask, the orioles spend time in adversity, and the radish flowers attract people. In the sentence about leisurely life, I can't bear to hurt the spring, but when the spring is gone, I will leave tears stained with my guess. ○I send you to look at the end of the world in despair, the dusk clouds suddenly merge into endless blue. The sleeves are full of jade flowers, the rooster crows in the wind and rain, and the heart is full of pity. The Cangzhou period is here, and the setting moon shines on the beams. The king of creeping grass has a sense of life experience, and he bows his head white. When will I hold my arm and meet the dream of the river?
[Mysterious Yin]
Who and Soul-Calling Xianggao Road. Peilan Yingzhu is scattered. The horses and horses are raised in the old place where the squatters were killed. I miss you, but I am suspicious of you and have no chance to meet you. The meaning of the old words in the hanging garden is sad and sad. The feeling of spiritual practice day and night is so helpless. ○ Borrow the fragrance of Hui Yao, spin it and inject it with pepper pulp. The spring is pouring out again, and the fragrant clouds are spitting out. White neon baby fu, ancient and modern hatred, temporary complaints. Looking at the repair door, I wake up alone, but I stand still. The river is dark and the night is miserable. The soul is back, the wind and rain are blowing.
[Eleven Poems of Niannujiao]
When I wake up from a dream of picking incense, I am a person from Shejiang River, not a singing couple in my youth. The mandarin ducks in the escort team are looking at each other, and there are countless flowers in a mess. There is a lot of wind in Jinxu, and the Zhufang is very cool, and it rains continuously. There is so much hatred in the south of the Yangtze River, so the old immortal will stop singing sad lines. ○In the evening, there is a fight across the bank, and the new songs of the field are broken, and the sound of the flute is sent away. One scene makes people famous, who cares? It is miserable to enter the mist of the flute boat. Luo Shan is cold, Zhu Lan is haggard and tired, so he has to move to another house. The remaining cicadas are rogue, and the setting sun has cut off their return path.
The green pines and the cold sun are so unforgettable that the ruthless spring beauty cannot be removed. Strength and scenery, wherever they circulate, are still clear and cold. On the garrison drum tower platform, the Buddha's fragrance is dusty, and the orioles are recognized for the first time in three or two. The sound of the piano is broken, and the heartbroken flowers are left outside. ○At the end of the day, who is calling for the souls? The ghosts of Xuluo Mountain mourn and chant in the sky. All of them are Zhenyuan, and they are grateful to the court officials. It is a pity that the white heads are gone together. It's cold in the old days, and the new pavilion sheds tears at sunset, filling the mountains with sun flutes. What happened to the vicissitudes of life? The smoke and chime in the forest are silent for the first time.
reveals that the scholar is old and has a good pool and a common painting meaning wandering. The jasper passes through Tianjin, and tourists dream of passing by, sharing the rain-heated cigarette holders. After writing thousands of lyrics and sharpening the sword for ten years, I am determined to return to farming. Will the small building be added? The white head is still firmly in place. ○Rare two pictures of Goose River, a boat with a rainbow coming under the moon, drinking in a piping tube. Sitting and recalling peace, drinking wine and chanting things, showing the clear curtain to the cool hall. The Lingbao kitchen is empty, the Fengcheng sword is combined here, and the Qiu Valley in the middle is in the middle. Qian Lang's sentence is good, so you must fill in the corners of the paper.
Qiao Fengxi Pavilion has Wu Ou and separate seats for leisure and fun. Extinguish the candle and bring it with you, under the cool moonlight, to deal with the tea melon love words. After playing the flute, the queen returns, the curtain is opened and the fireflies come in. A fan of wind is priceless. The rare stars appear and appear, and the thin clouds are picturesque. ○Forget about the autumn season in the sky, the red walls and green walls are hidden, and the wheel is hidden. Regardless of my merits and demerits, I will do my best to win a cool night. The leisurely feelings of the needles, the beautiful dreams of the old flowers, and the careless description. Gao Wu shakes the dew, and fairy feathers come down from the distant sky.
Half of the bed is still covered with snow, there are idle gulls, and a couple who is surprised to discuss the spring. The wild plum blossoms are still blooming in the cold weather, but the fragrance of valerian leaves is countless. The winding bank has continuous radials, the short pavilion is full of wine, and the wind and rain are busy and leisurely. The sky is full of smoke, and I look through the window at dawn to read the title sentence. ○In the morning and evening, the dust in front of Huangge, the green and old promises of dreams, go with the wild waves. Swallowing the Tiger Mountain, the flute beside the bridge also plays incense at the other side of the lake.The qiongrui is climbing again, the green birds are like calling, and the old pair (left mountain and right wave) live. The light clouds are boundless, and the falling red rests on the sail road.
originated from Shu studies. I asked Lu Jin who asked the old man from Heshan. There are huge collections of wines, carved by Tianshui, and the treasures in the art garden exceed the beauty of Qiongjiu. Three baskets of clouds are lost, one basket is allowed to be borrowed, and the good tree is worthless. Yuanting oil element dyes the shirt sleeves with antique fragrance. ○The seventeen posthumous chapters of the past events are divided into three main points, and they have been written and circulated for a long time. It is said that it is like a fragrant pepper, scheduled for daily classes, and gathered ginger sprouts for generations. Jin Xie holds the book, Yaohua deputy Mo Cao, and the coupon is famous for Shanshou. The sun rises when the sun rises, and Zong Shou falls during the passing period.
Even in old age, we are still the same flesh and blood, fighting to control life. Children are created by nature, teased in vain, and find their home as time goes by. The old floor has three rafters, two hectares of fertile farmland, and the Qing Xiangqu lies high. Weaving cunts in the deserted bay, old immortals come to accompany you alone. ○Who said that tired feathers are nesting in their nests, the dust is startling and the sea is mourning, and Ying's songs continue. Difficulties arise in all directions, but they are all the same, and the pine and chrysanthemums in the countryside are cut off. The green mountains of my homeland, the white hair of Cangzhou, and the dendrobium trees in my dreams. In what year, I was afraid of the base, so I cherished my best wishes.
Good doctor and good appearance, remember the country's sages, and the famous theory will be related to each other for thousands of years. The whole body of benevolence and art is all virtue, and it depends on the harmony of the family. There are red apricot trees, white flowers and calyxes, and spring jade. After three words of kindness, Zeng Xiaoqin was exposed in the pond. ○The couple has a flat head of seventy years old, surrounded by Guifang, kneeling on the platform and offering blessings. He was talented in the Tang Dynasty, promoted the Yuji season, and composed the song of Henan Fei. Thousands of joys, brocade flowers clustered in clusters, plans to add houses. With two supporting dove sticks, the small garden is filled with fresh green in spring.
In the flat root palace, I feel regretful about the ancient dust and the things that have been broken for three thousand years. The trees are covered with smoke, the new paintings are in the book, and the rock walls of Qinqi are covered with green. The crane is gone and the cloud is alone, the Qiu is flying to the cold moon, and the snow is shining on Wu Zhen. What a heroic figure Dongyang Dabi is. ○In order to ask about the world, Qian You, pondering around the tree, who dares to be the first. If you want to see the clothes, Pan Bian wins, but Ke Qianzhi becomes extinct. The past and present are romantic, what is the literary talent of painting, and there is no trace of sudden disputes. Familiar with the theory of painting, I trust you with eyes like the moon.
Bai because of the cold society, the gloomy branches and the knotted cliffs are still in the past dream. The earth is thick and the sky is high, there is no place to stay, so I come to make offerings in the leisure hall. The frosty appearance of Otani, the jewelry of Hiraizumi, the great quality of Liangdong. Du Ling sighed, it has been very difficult to use since ancient times. ○Cherish the separation of this old man. The roots are close to each other, just like the phoenix nesting in the nest. In the fourth year of Ke Ye's reign, he never changed and asked for the emperor's favor. Five grains of pine and beetles, twins of Meg's age, we share the late cold, the whole hall is full of color, and there is a pen in Heyang.
Rui Shulang Jian, tracing the high ground, excellence and winning Liu. Four episodes of Feihong are not enough to count. The Art Garden alone has won the true award. The tripod has feet and a chi plate, the hairpin head and the phoenix stand, and the wonderful traces are imitated by ice. Every pearl, every word, will enter the net of pearls. ○On that day, I paid a visit to Jin Gaoqi, and wrote a detailed appraisal of the iron book, and distinguished all the traps and elephants in the sky. The ancient river is idle, but seeking truth is nothing like a romantic and grand prize. Illuminating the eyes with sesame seeds and mud, I am startled by the writings in the sea, everything is intact, the sound of pine trees and the moonlight are especially bright and clear for you.
[Four Songs of Huanjing Music]
The cicadas are in a mess, and it is reasonable to feel sad at night like a careless hair. Sitting under the lamp window without wine, but I feel that I am separated from the courtyard and singing songs is wasted. Look across the vast sky. The mirror in the west building is about Yuxiang. Awakening from old dreams, scraps and drips, Jiangnan’s remaining tears. ○ Remember the bottom of Pingshan Mountain. There are double photos of flowers, and the orchids are leaning against each other for a while, the smell of farewell. Even if the end of the world says the date of return, he will always be alone with his beautiful face and peach plums. I feel sad every year, I still use my wings to peek into the curtain, the cool fireflies are in the water. Even in the belly of Pisces, Jiang Bo does not care about melancholy.
Sai Hong is close, deliberately snuggling in the sand to spend the moon and make the sound of autumn. At dusk, I feel heavy with sadness. I spin my iron horse and feel sad and choked on the eaves. Sitting alone with tears splashing, the shadows of candles and candlesticks stand on the back of the mountain. Tiredness and sleep diminish, complaints arise in the distant night, and the clothes are new and cold. ○Listen to the pot lotus. In the remaining paintings of Meng Cangbo, the formation of wind crows is as black as dust, and their wings are not straightened. The sound of horns drawn in the rivers and lakes echoed in secret, the cool rain and mist were dim. It makes me sad because there are few people playing the flute and I wake up with the sunset. Pulse and pulse peek into the hair, clear frost flies onto the bright mirror.
The soul-breaking thing can make me feel melancholy when I am tired of writing and writing. The temples are ashamed of the dust mirror, the wax torch is gray with tears, who plays the flute and sings. On the Echi Pond, there are long strips with moon and smoke. Qian's plain hands help the drunk to call for help, and the soft waves of the oars. ○Stand and look at the tall building. There are wild flowers on the road, flying orioles have no hesitation to sing, and the grass is long. The east wind changes to the green forest pavilion, dark pear clouds and dreams come and go. Fei pining is the sound of the rain strings and the bright clouds. The moon is full of resentment in the west, peeking into the weeping tent of last night.
Tired of embracing, reading through the setting sun and looking for microwave words. Let the incense fall and the swallows fall in love, and the red horse step on the horse, and there is no basis for keeping silent. Asking about flowers in Jiangdu makes you shed tears in the spring and rain. With all kinds of emotions, singing at night will make you drunk at dawn, and your fragrance will be perfect. ○Old ecstasy. There are thousands of treasures around, but now the pen is full of dust, and the strings are bitter. I pondered and patted the railings, wandering in the clouds and thinking like this. Sitting in Cangzhou, you can earn a lot of money and travel with articles. Autumn is bleak in the middle of the year, but Lan Cheng has a rich life experience.
[Fengchiyin]
Buqiu Qiongfei, in the old Lingbo place, the valerian shadow is shallow and the text is rippled. Remember that the beautiful woman chewed it at night, moisturizing the scented kiss, cooling and softening the skin. Enjoy the wisdom, the small Ou round mirror is the time of year. The east wind relieves the enemy, and the orchid boat urges the ship to sail, and there is no plan to stay in Iraq. ○The joy and despair are getting colder than water. I take advantage of the window to dry my inkstone and write to express my love. The material is pouring by the Zhi River, the green scales are just coming up, and the brocade characters are still late. A film of spring sorrow, broken red and flowing tears. It has not been removed, but the heart is dizzy and the jade saliva is silky.
[Three Poems of Bu Suanzi]
Cuiyu cries to her heart's content, who can be jealous of Qianxiu. The floating dusk is dark and fragrant, and the toad is not allowed to spend it. ○Wu Yuanyu's twin bodies fly along Yaotai Road. Let me ask the old painter from Qiantang who is the flute player.
Whoever earns the little red will let go of the poplar branches. Qingxiaoqiangdong is always unknown, what a waste of words. ○I know how to be carefree, regardless of wind or rain. It's like a golden fairy with empty hands and eyes dancing in the sky.
Thousand pieces of Wu flowers, followed by Ye Ying's words. When I sleep, there is a flicker of smoke in the bright window, and in my dream, there is the sound of rain in the corridor. ○When I am worried and leaning on the railing, I sing to the couple who are sitting at the wine table. I regret that I look back and forth, my eyes wet with tears.
[No. 1 in Dizhou]
The dust is light and dusty, the dust is messy, and the eyebrows are small when the banquet is held. The dense threads are connected, the clear words are covered with fans, and the Qin sky is misty and misty. There is a dark moon on the fan horse screen, peeking at people and taking photos secretly. The deep alliance between the jade beams and the shallow throwing of money will make you grow old happily. ○89 Jingwu Yishushao. Definitely lose and control the female's song. The curtain of love is new, the dream of pearl fields is far away, and they suddenly return to the embrace of sorrow. Before messing with the flowers, I shed tears. I stopped at the cup and looked at each other with a smile. Whoever beats the mandarin ducks, the brocade pond is empty and sleeps alone until dawn.
[Three Songs of Clouds Crossing the River]
Xin Hanluo was awakened, the curtains were covered with heavy rain, and a wild goose fell into the round sand. Waking up from the dream and saying goodbye to each other in tears, the petrels are nesting deep in the sky, jealously entering Mochou's home. The mirror is filled with red cries, and I quietly cherish my beauty. Thousands of silk threads, white willows, are not called Tibetan crows. ○ Sighing in the sky, a solitary flying bluebird leads the Yellow Cong, and the wave falls eastward. I gazed at Penglai in the dark dust and the autumn owl wearing yarn. Going back to the river to complain about the south of the Yangtze River, breaking the dark frost in the Cangjia. I was so melancholy that I asked about the flowers when I returned.
The river breeze is lingering on the night of wine, and the soft tide is half-falling, carrying dreams around the sails. When the lights are off, the spring is still shallow, the spring flowers are splashing with tears, and it is cold about the northern plum blossoms. After jumping up and down, we gradually came to appreciate the desolate and snowy south of the Yangtze River. The chanting is low, who is the white-headed couple? There is a decadent toad sitting in the photo. ○Essential, poems and poems written in times of mourning, sent to Lao Guanhe, stirring up all kinds of emotions. Hugh Geng will then fence the smoke willows, how can he pay for them. In the Ming Dynasty, Qinhuai's green temples were illuminated, and I was afraid of the rain, dim wind, and melancholy. The words on the wrong road made the blue shirt wet when we met again.
The spring clothes are noisy and plain, leaning against the building with tired eyelashes, and the wild geese are heading south. The flowers in the old Beijing are less busy, there is no reason to go and live, and I sit and read the willow green. It urges people to complain, and cries until the moon is behind them until there is no sound. Where to find it? Baitou Cuisine, a reunion of love after a new year. ○The condensation disappears, the stove smoke is attached, the medicine lingers, and the separation is uncertain. Hun has not forgotten the boat in Yanqiu Lake, talking about the rain on the bed. When our hearts and souls grow old, we must stay together, and we will spend our whole life enjoying the cold wine. Singing and looking forward to the pain, we will cherish our loneliness together in the end.
[Eighteen Poems of Huanxi Shazai]
The orang-colored screen is different from the twelve mountains, and there are two sad Luan in the mirror. Turn off the lights and wait for the dream to return. ○The pillow is covered with fragrant flowers, and the bed is filled with the gurgling autumn waves of jade. Xin Liang can't get enough of Lang Bian.
The tea has passed and the orchid has not yet been refined. The butterflies are worried and the bees are laughing for no reason. Someone else has just finished fixing the fence. ○ There are tears in the towel when I sing the Qing Dynasty, and I am frightened by the spring short sleeves. I had known that it would be difficult to save Fangjie.
Whoever sets up a field to try out the horseshoe, the Chunli team will temporarily support him. Wild smoke fans on Hengzhigang Road. ○The love in the West Sea adds to the leakage forever, but the East Wind is unable to manage everything. When we meet, we sing the white bronze song.
Drinking every day is nothing but raising a glass, smiling happily to wake up the heart. What's the matter with fan Chen and light clothes? ○Otherwise, the clouds and mountains hate to enter the painting, and the ducks and ducks walking together gradually become inorganic. Stepping in the wind is the true return.
Wearing wine and a single shirt, wearing a pair of glasses, Wu Bo has been full of hatred for ten years. When autumn comes, it is easy to sing a sad song when you are alone. ○The lyrics are thin when the moon is full of people, and there are many tearpipes at Jiangguan Pass. Han Ling was speechless and helpless.
The writing style is based on the slight flow of powder, and the book readers in the world are bitterly chanting the autumn. The small note conveys hatred and makeup. ○The moon shines brightly on the new mirror, and the lanterns look like ancient hairpins. Fu Ding is old and has to change his job.
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like water and paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The land is not deserted and cold when I travel alone.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow will always be unknown. Who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal to me.
Dreaming about the fourteenth journey of the Yanjiang River, the silk embankments and willows on the temples are full of flowers, and the fragrance of the year is ruthless with the water. ○ When the wine falls, the plum blossoms in the east wind will swirl, the sails will be greeted by fine swift swallows, and the sorrow of spring will naturally arise in writing.
explains that sadness is just a small frown, and it is clear that resentment is in the song, and there are original Ruizhu people in the world. ○ The wonderful dance bends down and turns over the brocade on the ground. She whispers and sheds tears to Liang Chen. The clothes are full of clouds from the old mountains.
Smallpox may not reach me. It is a song that occupies someone's arms, and the red and green curtains wander around. ○ Turn over the sacred interpretation of Jie Ku Zen, mourn the time and make the poet shed tears, it doesn’t matter about Chu Taiyun in the dream.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
Autumn is coming again. In ten years, the city is half covered with wormwood, and the eyes are wide open. ○ When the bones are out, it feels like a jade in the mountains. When the waist is bent, it is like dancing on the willow poles. Di flowers throw snow and dot the cup.
Why does the stream also have the surname Xi? It is more suitable to wear light makeup and heavy makeup. There are several piles of mangroves weighing down the reeds. ○The good years require wine, but the decadent style and gull period mean that although the West Lake is good, there is no need to mention it.
A team of maidens guides the oars, recruiting and extracting flowers and flowers every time, and a niche is filled with incense and thatched cottage. ○ Tai Xisheng’s family has no record. Since I am a Buddhist monk, I am here to serve as a package monk.
The dragon elephant is sold and sinks several pestle bells, the heavens have no way to ask the green peak, the solemn wheel and the painter. ○The desolate sky and water are still green, the ashes of calamity and birth and death are pitifully red, and the fragrance of flowers spreads everywhere.
Strider picked fresh slices of jade words, spring waves melted and released the pond, prolonging the life of the beautiful people. ○The good prophecy is that the turtle in the old stream looks to the left, the crane in the new song of longevity flies south, and the mandarin ducks are in a good mood.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
[Nearly seven good things]
The short hair is gradually fading, and the bully is weak. The power and scenery are flowing, but there is no news about yellow flowers. ○ Walking around the pond is timid because of the late cold, and it is forbidden to drink a small amount of wine. The Cangshan Mountains are speechless. Whose autumn colors are there?
Sleeping in the rain and mangling in autumn, I once went to the forest for hunting. Who begs for the clear dew from the golden stem, which heals the heart of the piano and quenches thirst. ○We have mourned each other for several generations, and the servant girls in high-rise buildings are extremely sad. Being willing to accompany a group of barbarians is better than having two clear pagodas.
Lake Qi Yu Yi Jin, step into Baofang Linyue. I can endure the coldness of the mountain pavilion and the spring, and my heart and intestines are like snow. ○Ten miles out of the mountain, how long does it take to hear the sound of crickets? It is safe and secure everywhere, and it is adjacent to Zhongfa in the south.
The immortal of Guanghan is left behind, and a toad household is opened in the fragrant world. A case of Hengsha's calamity change is more ancient than the moon. ○The body is not hindered by the yellow cloth, the ground is broken by the sky cloth, the eaves are covered with all the money, and the basket is used for the dragon and the catty ax.
Koujiaofa sings loudly, who reads Taoism at the same time. Don't make crazy plans to envy the fish, treat the stream as bright as jade. ○The rivers and lakes are still full of people who have not returned, and the dead sheep laugh at the valley. In the morning and evening, I go to the foot of Xinjiang Mountain to buy spring raincoats and yellow calves.
The candle flowers in the floating mat are cool, and the wind is blowing in the water outside the fence. After the flute was over, he was suddenly urged to go back, feeling a great deal of pity. ○I remember Xu Yunying a hundred times, and I can cook it straight. There is no such thing as a banquet, because the red goose will not be eaten.
is at ease in the ice, and the pen is like a dragon. In the Golden Butterfly Pavilion, there is a crazy uncle from the Chen family. ○In the past twenty years, I have been full of talents, and my dragon-carving hand has shrunk. If this matter comes to an end, we will go to Lugo to pursue him.
[Twenty-eight poems with subtracted characters of Magnolia Flower]
There is no solution to the worries, the bottom line is that the wine debts last year after year. I don’t know how deep my sorrow is, but my heart is on the silver screen every night in my dreams. ○The sky is full of frost, and I can see the autumn mountains shaking away. If you want to return to the boat, you will ride Feihong to visit Jiuzhou.
has a good conversation, but only asks for wine from a silver bottle. The arms are wrapped around the waist, and the body is in a state of extreme health. ○When the dim light illuminates the scene, why do ghosts and monsters need to ask about their shadows frequently? Who is right and who is wrong will never return without leaving the green hills.
The Huai River flows like Dai, and Wu Pengyun carries it all in June. The clothes were hurriedly untied, and the fire of war was shining across the sky to the east of the sea. ○An official is dying, so I wrote seven pages of letters to him. Fengyi was ashamed of Fan Juqing in Shanyang throughout his life.
shed the rules of your sentences, and pass through the alleys from poor days to dusk. On the frosty moon, I walked up to Fanlou to sell a restaurant. ○Wandering in the bamboo forest, write down the eight-point move Amai. After the dawn, the star is lonely, leaving no inkstone to be passed down to the family.
With a green beard and a tree-like chin, I have been a quiet man for thirty years. The rest is in Jingguan, and the mountains are slovenly with thick clouds and sneers. ○The desolate pavilion is picking up leaves, and just a few strokes of pen are asking for rice stickers. Instead of going back to sail, it ended up being a fate of porridge and rice in Beijing.
The diseased bones are separated, and one sacrifice can lead to liberation. The broken temple returns and the soul returns every night. Ji Mu's move. ○Moss flowers and couches, life candles discuss the heart and always see the postscript. Where to dip your towel and fight with wine at Beiguo Gate of Qingshan Mountain? Do you know about
Mengou? He is a fisherman in rivers and lakes. I don’t dream of Huangliang, I am lying in bed with the autumn waves rolling over the ground. ○Suspicious things happened in the Chu Palace, and the sky and the earth were filled with tears of snow. Who ordered Wu Yang? He was sent to the wilderness at midnight.
Penglai was relegated, and whoever brought him back would return to his official post. I was so sad that I was surprised to see the huge gully boat hidden in the sky. ○ It’s not your intention to look at each other as a ghost and to correct your worries.The spiritual principles are endless, and the sixteen views are recorded while sitting high.
Traveling in the sea, watching the flying geese rising. The west wind blows from the sick bone, and a night of frost destroys the mirror. ○How can one redeem one's body? I am tired of crying for three days. The grass in the pond has dried up in spring, and there are no dreams in the west hall after all the tears.
The sword tip cries slightly, and the sea water stabs the sky and floats with blood. In the courtyard of the miserable moon, who can understand Zhang Xian and accept Guangling? ○In a corner of Fuchun, scattered rock flowers and red birds peck at them. Where does the white head go? In the mountains, no one asks what is right or wrong.
The ruthless Xiangshui River is shaking in the autumn colors. The cold moon returns to the radius, relying on the Qingqin music score to make a big move. ○The righteousness of life makes Jiang Han cry with sorrow. There is snow on the temples and frosty beard, and the chest first closes up to Mount Huashan.
Golden Taigu, a hunting gift with no mercy. The drunk hat is tilted, and I can't bear to look at the nine flowers in Lingjun. ○The jade flute blows in the wind, and its small mat pattern melts like water. You are wearing a green shirt, and there are a few lots of spring onions on the cold night.
Yingying Guangqi, Leiluo Semicircular Three Crosses. I studied in Jiangmen in the old days, and I was just like a man with poor clothes and a soft hat. ○Who said Han Ling, filling up the sea and patching up the sky is useless. A piece of blue cloud contains traces of Lingjun's old tears.
Cangqiu roots are dry, regardless of the changes in the world. Who can tame the dragon's nature? The appearance is like this. ○Hanhao is still angry, so he wanders to the sky. I will make a new picture and wait to visit the fourth plant in Jiashan.
Several pairs of jade needles, the wind blowing from the ground carried the pearls into chaos. Fainting into raw silk, he treasured the gold dowry and paid it to Zuo Jiao. ○Youth colored clothes, a flash of frost destroys the daylily green. The threads of clothes are invading, and I know the cold spring in my heart.
Semi-regular clear shadow, with the fragrance of heaven in it. I left behind my love for Hunan, and left behind a benevolent and admirable legacy. ○ He is good at reading, and Yue Yuewen and Sun can recite Luo. A Hutang is sweet, don't look at wealth in the world.
is a simple text that makes people cry. Thousands of verses turn over the waves, laughing and blowing out the lamp to achieve nirvana. ○Murderous intentions arise from the sky, like apes, cranes, and sandworms. The fragrant hair is sandalwood, and I want to see King Kong emerging from the tip of my pen.
Shen Xiang's ancient hatred, the words create sorrow for heaven and ask questions. Xuan Pu's speech, another generation of depression. ○The lust will not die, the chanting of boats on the beach will change. Wave to Peng Xian, and the sad history is written in the same way.
Thunder Hail Ban Zhan, talk about it for eight hundred years. Distribute sugarcane and dance towards the south. ○The command is uncertain, and the Jikou is difficult to turn back and the scorpion's life is ruined. It's better than the Western Terrace, and the singing of red birds is coming.
Cicada Yan is of Chinese origin, and she is beautiful in all the states of Bingjie. Chang'an is clear and fragrant, and it is wonderful to study the postscript at the end. ○The dark felt wax is a rare combination of Jie and Yin. The memorial tablet for the consultation is in memory of the time when Donghua wrote the staff.
Yunguan Tou Lao, put his arm into the forest and smiled. The hats and clogs are welcomed by the people, and they win the support of the green hills. ○The cigarette smoke is spread, and the poems are like ancient paintings written by gods. When Liao He returns, he talks to the remnant monk about the ashes of calamity.
The two whirling old men put their hands behind their hands and smiled in invitation. The fragrance is faint, and spring is in the poet's walking stick. ○The order is so powerful that the scenery is vaguely beautiful. The spring city with drums and horns is not the sound of jade flutes from tall buildings.
His whole life is full of integrity, and he is the leader of both Wuqiao and Wuqiao scholars. The sky is flying high, and the light is gathered into small words. ○The moon is stained by Wenhua, and a section of blue smoke cannot fly. He can pick up the pen like a god, and he is still interested in making portraits of stones.
The smoke is lingering, and the unexpected desolation and coldness are reflected in the writing. Squinting at the yellow dust, who is the solitary person in the green mountains? ○There are not many huts, and the taste of the whole family is as clear as a swan. Anma spent his whole life working as a rice porridge monk in the south of the Yangtze River.
Holly shed tears, and she still has no regrets after nine deaths. The sun comes down from the sky, living up to the desire to be alone in the green mountains. ○The king is upright and righteous, and the cold waves of the Yi River cannot be blown away. The sunflower in the high pavilion has always looked at each other in a willow hall.
The elixir ladder has ten steps, connected to Wu Pengchi and the power of Jiejue. Resisting sparse criticism and achieving success in the Qing Dynasty. ○The court shirt was taken off, and the ancestral court smiled. Deeply closed at Chaiguan, the breeze will fill the old mountain.
In this world, there will be tears left after old age. The liver, the lungs, the teeth, do not write the flowers of heaven's approval. ○ I am solitary and frank, but my everlasting regret is my clumsy skill in mending the sky. Sitting and caressing Wu Gou, when did Gao Guan visit Kuai Feng?
Jinfeng direct sect. I bow down willingly with my words. The rest is red and yellow. It is close to Yushan Mountain and nearly half a pond. ○The old mountain floating jade. Spend the blessing of words in dreams. When will I return to my tent? And the woodcutter sings in the flute wind.
[Ten Songs of Qingpingle]
The water sinks and freezes, cutting off the dream of Jiangnan. Wearing a golden phoenix in a single quilt every night, not knowing the severity of new worries. ○The wild geese are walking in the west building, and the ground becomes more desolate when I wake up. I don’t blame that farewell, it was just that there was no discussion.
The chaotic clouds are blowing in the air, and all kinds of new wines are scattered. I am as thin as a guest in the Western Mountains outside of my worries, and my eyebrows are trimmed to fight back. ○Speechless and independent moss, Gaocheng draws horns to remind. Pointing to the end of the journey home, the setting sun is still in the palace.
The yellow bees are not drying out, and the plum blossoms are fragrant outside. The broken grains break away the cold and the rustling of gold stirs up the man alone in the moon. ○Every year, I dream about the cold fairy ladder, and the cold dew and millet invade my skin. The mother-of-pearl baskets are sold to tears, and the painting railings have been gone for a long time.
The sidelights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is shaking in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape? ○The rivers and lakes are about to disappear, and the wind is blowing in the helm tower. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
The eyes are tired in the late spring, and it is easy to change before the flowers bloom. The green flowers of calyx come and bloom late, and the poems of leisurely love disappear. ○The sky wind is like a string of beads in the throat, and the mountains and rivers are clearing away sorrow. The family background is full of feathers and robes, but the head of the pool is not as solid as blue.
In the pond of my old home, the hibiscus is old in the mirror. There is no need to sweep up the flying flowers all over the courtyard. After a while, the afterglow has faded. ○In life, we are in love with the end of the world. At this time, we can return to that place. I don’t know that the sky is getting old, but the white gull still knows that the sky will follow.
The dragon gate is hundreds of feet long, and the bright autumn colors are painted on it. The north and south peaks contrast with each other and stand tall against the rising sun. ○ Kaixuan is full of haze, and the soft red can’t reach the end of the clouds. As a layman with a human origin, the lakes and mountains become more and more beautiful.
No matter what the world is, the devil is happy to hear it. The three-character title of Jinshi of the Tang Dynasty was lost in the game of Yanfu. ○One after another, Ai Zi Xiaolang invited Pao Wat to appear. He smiled and asked how the three horns of millet looked like a drunken cup of pu-cup.
Next to the pavilion and marsh, I lean on my stick and feel comfortable and roar. There are new drawings of the sky and the surrounding screen, and several afterimages have been changed. ○Twenty years old dream of Qingdun, lotus flowers are also your kindness. As soon as I feel that the river is empty and the year is late, I will have some leisure time in the mountains.
The remaining flowers and leaves of the calamity are gone, and the beauty of Chu Wan is gone. It can be said that the dew weeps and smokes, and is not subject to the wind and moon. ○The fragrant soul is scattered in the barren mountains, but the roots are related to ancient times. It's a good companion to write the history of my heart, and I will stay in this world forever.
[Buchan Palace]
The moon was full last night and it rained tonight, all guesswork, cloudy and clear without evidence. I can't sleep due to alcoholism, so I draw candles in a cage and write out autumn sentences. ○The red dance in the West Garden fades away in an instant, the material is like water, and it is difficult to stay at the end of the year. Even if the waning autumn is not as good as the spring, why bother to let the faint crows rush away.
[Second Songs of Xi Qiuhua]
Mu Yu Nanlou, the sudden sound brings me sadness. The pillow is miserable, the west wind and the swallows return to urge them to change. At dusk on the side of the word "Yuguan", broken shadows are passing by, and the eyes of the heart are tinted. Year after year. This is Hengyang Jipu, where spring is flowing. ○Old friends are thousands of miles away. It is expected that the dream of Jianghu is stable, regardless of whether it is warm or cold. Reduce the candle and miss the autumn, and the oar will wake you up and break your heart. The sky is full of clouds, don't miss them, and the spring waves will accompany them. Who is used to it, there is a long door, the moon is bright and the lamp is dark.
Embroidering the spring posture, leaning against the east wind seems to be a pity, which hurts the mood. Scattered traces of exposure, drunkenness at night warms the curtain door. The Yintai is so beautiful that it enters the fairy clouds, the illumination is unstable, and the beauty of the city is charming. Sales spring. It's Qin Zheng who swallows indiscriminately and has a new voice. ○What kind of flowers can I send my regrets to? He is still timid in his spare time, but he usually respects you. The short dream flows, the water passes away, the fragrance is sad and bitter. Lovesickness talks about Hua Qing, who is afraid of the deep night and the sleeping soul. Speechless, I patted the railing and looked for sorrowful words.
[Two Songs of Chaozhongcuo]
Pink clouds cross the border and break the clouds. People sit at Bixitou. In the early days, the polygonum is lightly swaying in the wind, and in the decline of the lotus, the red-backed sand gulls are blooming. ○Where in Jiangxiang, the green mountains are painted with fans, and the yellow leaves return to the boat. Naturally, the guest's heart is shaken, and it doesn't care about the high-rise building.
Jiuli is more clumsy than a dove. There is a dodder in old age. I have retained the family law of Zichun, but I don’t know the crown and belt of Kunqiu. ○Under the eastern forest, twenty years of old dreams must come to an end. Throw away all the ten edges of the mountains and fields, and there will be no destiny for the scalpers.
[Five Poems from Xiaochong Mountain]
The plum blossoms are so moist that they cannot take off your clothes. It rained for three days behind closed doors, and there were few orioles in the evening. The east wind turns to fine silk. The red fragrance is gone, the words of carefree and happy spring. ○Happy things will change every year. After seeing the cherries three times, the glow remains. I will report to you when I am free and worried. Flowers float in the water, and hatred flows onto the red gate.
The rain washes the autumn posture against the greenery. The light moth is newly swept out, and it is still late. Xishan is so unfinished. The sand gulls laugh, and the guests are as free as silk. ○It’s not about missing lovesickness. After Chu Lan was shaken, her short book was sparse. Poems about a few people wearing clogs in the west wind. There are wild geese in the sky, and there is no need to mention the chaos.
The small pavilion is cold in the green dampness and yin, and I can’t bear the wine to clear up the turbidity. The wind stirs up the water and the candle branches are broken. When the frightened birds go away, they hear the sound of Bilanggan. ○Tou Laowu Yunguan. The eyes are full of dust and things, and it is difficult to be honest. The end of the world is a plan for Guhuan. In the ruthless month, I will be ill for three times.
The beauty of spring in the southern country comes once again, and the jade and jade joints are opened behind the back, which means it is sad. It's a waste to shed red tears to cherish the early stage. Only Jin Ying knows the root cause of sorrow. ○Unable to protect the branches. The east wind will stop planting again, there will be love and infatuation. For the past few years, my thoughts have been on Gracilaria. He is not weighed, and his head is white and full of lovesickness.
Passers-by can talk about the soldiers every year, covering the villages and blocking the way of people. The flywheel rushes into the dark to test the journey of spring. The returning wind still carries the smell of battle dust. ○The sunset is full of smoke. The wild firefly is three or four o'clock, lighter than the stars. Call Qun Chuangyan to be silent. If no one cares, I will make you cry.
[一drop rope]
The setting sun sets the solitary city deep and closed, and the four mountains are wild and green. The sound of breaking the sound is unbearable, it is whimpering and mulberry dry water. ○The noble man in the high pavilion leans slightly, causing sorrow to turn into drunkenness. The colorful clouds live up to their return date, but they are still afraid that the dusk will be easy.
[Taichangyin]
There was a slight surge in the late night at Xiguan.At the end of the day, old friends are far away. When Cong Gui will recruit, he can't dream of Tiao Nan painting the radius. ○When we meet at a small moor, chrysanthemums are on the back of the oars, and the flavor words are holding pincers, and the tide is flowing out of the harbor. There are three or two autumn lights with low latitude.
[Night Tour Palace Two Songs]
The door is covered by the dusk and drizzle. The three came out and served as the golden building for the feast. Stop singing Jiangnan heart-broken poems, small silver zither, thirteen strings, new columns. ○The remaining cricket catkins outside the flowers. The dark throat is broken, and the green yarn is smoked. Sad knot travels on the middle road of Yunmeng. Pick up the lamp, fold the red paper, and seal it with tears.
Blowing water to dispel the fragrance is early. The cyanotic pot is warm and the lamp is turned back with a smile. The messy green servant girl's pillow and letter are small, like a Luofu. The moon is dim and yellow, and it comes in a dream. ○The sky is dark and the wind is blowing. Small birds are nearby, and the sky is full of crows. Start to change the old year's draft of Shangchun. When there is no one around, I manage the red hairpin and grow old.
[Reminiscences of old friends in Taoyuan]
The jade concubine calls the moon and Penglai is shallow, and the lead and water are like a galaxy. In the dream, the person leaning on the railing changes, and the favor is exhausted by the palace fan. ○The makeup building is full of residual light in the west wind, which makes you look fancy. The fragrance is on the south bank of Hongyi, the sky is close and the microwave is far away.
[Extreme lovesickness]
Qu Lan is clear, the mirror is polished in autumn, and the cyan clouds are flying by. The two mandarin ducks have had enough sleep, the rhombus silk is spinning, and they don't believe in the storm. ○One evening, I walked far away in the clouds. The old palace was yellow and desolate. The weather has become colder, and the dragon's beard is like a brocade, and it is getting colder and colder.
[Two Songs of Love and Embroidery Quilt]
The sun sets behind the cicada curtain and the sun rises, looking into the mirror. When the wind blows, Lingbo and Luo Sock are left in the cold while doing your business. ○The embroidered dust coils around the horse's green doorway, with the west wind at its back, able to rationalize and stop madness. Don’t forget, we made a car appointment, late at night, under the moon, it was like crossing the parapet.
The red scales blow the fragrance of the wine, leaning on the golden boat, and the night is long. I dreamed that at the bottom of Peng Mountain, I asked about Lan Xin and her sleeves were dewy. ○ Yancheng goes without lovesickness, listens to the empty building, and looks tired in the autumn mirror. The word "material brocade" means "rarely able to meet", negative year after year, and sent to the general by the river.
[Two Songs of a Night Boat]
Hunting, cool smoke and late night osmanthus, dusk is approaching, wine is sad and carefree. The fragrant red gauze flying low with exposed feet is wet, and the Forbidden City leads to tears. ○ Half of the remaining paintings in Cangzhou. The west wind blows, and the flute cannot be heard. Hate the water to leave the smoke, where is the fairy tree, but the fish tail is skimming off the waves.
My heart is filled with wine. The old soul disappears, shadowed on the E Pond. At first, the strings and strings are as soft as the clouds. I turn over the flowers and step on them to sing a new song. ○Don’t be ashamed of being late. Near the gate, there are many obstacles. The beautiful woman is unable to dance back to the wind, fighting against lightness is a waste of her delicate palms.
[Four Poems about Heartfelt Love]
Zhi Qiong Ke is tired of the gull. Flying dream falls on Pingzhou. The cool breeze blows down the wild geese in the south, and the resentment flows into the autumn water. ○If you have no idea, ask Xilou. Old curtain fishing. Where is the orchestra, the palace is empty with fallen leaves, and the head of the pond is crystal clear.
Binghutingguan Zongboping. The light screen hides the lamp. Sitting alone on the mountain, leaning against a fan, looking at the moving stars from the tail of a bamboo. ○Things on the wrong road lead to tired wandering. Dreams never come true. The exposed postures are gone, the jade mat is still there, and the autumn is born overnight.
The news of Luan Yuqiu is endless. Birch candles cover the mountain. The rhyme of the well is suddenly exposed, and the Jianghe River returns in a frightening dream. ○Without any other words, I embrace the sleeping servant girl. Tears dry up. The wind blows in the orchid bushes, but before reaching the needle tower, it feels cold in Luo Jian.
The mesh is broken and the water sinks into smoke. The silver duck sleeps steadily. The dew point on my clothes is like rain. I sit and watch the moon flow. ○Tiaoan Road, gong boat. What year is it. Leaning on the building, my thoughts are clear, and my clothes are pure and simple. I can withstand the cold autumn.
[Three Songs on Visiting Kinmen]
The windows are dark and the spring cold is endless on all sides. Crows crow around the tree, and the weft is red and wet with tears. ○I am unable to change my clothes, and I am worried about the news about Yuguan. I swore secretly that Mr. Luan Luan would not remember me, so I forced myself to look for a gap in the mirror.
The flower is leaking urgently, and the lichen is red and narrow. The man with the dancing sleeves should follow suit, and the host will turn out to be the guest. ○Today there is a beautiful feast under the cloud screen, and tomorrow there is a desolate post with ragged cuckoos. The clouds on the collapsed ground are as thick as ink. Where can I stand in my dream?
can't keep it, the butterfly fairy skirt takes a slight step. Drops of water cut off the road outside Wufeng Tianwai, and it rains all night long like a curtain. ○The new composition of Yellow Flowers with Tears is written as Chan Yan's Yiyu. The twin green feathers of the fairy mountain are waiting to be called, and I send you my affection.
[Ten Songs of Candle Shadow Shaking Red]
The golden fairy shed tears, but went out of the way with the plate. The wild geese crow in the cool cloud cage in autumn, and the fragrant orchid smiles while the dew weeps. ○The solitary phoenix travels in the smoke near the dawn, bringing misty dreams to the red wall. The stone scales are desolate water, the west wind does not care, the low fireflies shine on themselves.
After a few days of poetry, I don’t know where the swallow will go. Stop the falling catkins and flying flowers, and change the way in front of the door. ○Zeng Caiyoufang wrote a sentence about the lake and mountains, which suddenly made him sad. Pingting plays the flute and expresses her sadness, and her chanting becomes increasingly painful.
Sitting in the east wind, half-fairy clouds rise from the sky. The makeup is slightly dizzy with tears and rouge, and the mirror is leaning against the branches. In the dream of Qin Zheng in the embroidered house, I pressed Liangzhou and urged me to chant and get drunk. After the orioles crow, the setting sun changes and the world is fragrant. ○ There is no definite cloudy or clear sky, and I can’t understand Dongjun’s intention in the vast sky. There is spring light everywhere in front of me, turning the idle peaches and plums upside down. If you want to describe the past events of the Hua Qing Dynasty, the waves of dust and cold desolation will gnaw at the paper.The soul cannot return from sleep, the flames of candles screen the mountains, and I miss myself alone.
The remaining ink on the mountain face, for whom it reaches the hook curtain. Di buds and birds are noisy on the flat bank, and the orchid road is still clear. The flowing light passes through the feathers, the cold Zen sky, the bells and the pestle are broken. Where is the fragrant travel? There is no reason to clear the corner, and it is so sad to blow. ○Spring ends at the end of the world, and Maoyuan is intoxicated and thinking about returning to the poem. On a good day and a good night, there is an old east wind, but who believes that the cuckoo's cuckoo is bitter? I want to pick apple blossoms and send them to you, but the green window is deep and my expectations are wrong. The dangerous fence is leaning against, the setting sun is covered with chaos, and there are countless floating clouds.
The spring curtain is covered with wicker and light clouds in the northwest. A thousand chirps of Bo Lao will not make the sky clear, and the smoke will make the hairspring fall. The ground is littered with cherry blossoms, and the east wind is blowing again in the shadow of the building. Thousands of reds are sinking, amidst the sound of thunderbolts, who is holding the setting sun? ○It is easy to dissolve the condensation, which makes Chu Lan feel sad. Waiting for the wine, Cangzhou sheds tears. Standing alone against the dangerous railing with sleeves and hands, the green leaves are turning and the sea air is faint. The fish, dragon and wind are bad, the fragrance is half broken, and the sorrow is hard to express.
The stacks of drums are gloomy, and the pink plum blossoms are floating in the cold air. The two swallows in front of the house did not come back, and Liang Hua was covered with dust. Rong Yisi Yang Cuixuan is afraid of the east wind and the new sorrow. The lights have just been turned off, the swing has not yet been tied, and the love is sad and beautiful. ○For no reason, the oriole cries on its back and wets the agarwood threshold. A spring brings joy and water, and wine eliminates sorrow. Don't dream about the silver screen and all the emotions. Your heart is moving, but your flute silk has not yet been restrained. Laughing on the way home, wild flowers scattering the face, the dusk is dim.
The autumn posture is in the mirror, and the four mountains are dark and melancholy. The shadows of toads turn and scatter in the empty bath, and the three or five cool fireflies flicker. People in Qingjing are easy to owe when they are free, and when they wash away their leisurely feelings, their cups are not filled with wine. After the sound of waves, all the money is gone, and the dragonfly is alone. ○The moon bead lamp is used to make flowers float out of the fence. The fish and birds should be a little tired of urging Ah Lai to spend the night indiscriminately. The remaining half of the painting on Cangzhou is hung with Xifeng and Canglong Suisui. The crows haven't woken up yet, the wind is sparse outside, and the heavy city is more dense.
Thousands of families cry in the wild, but they don’t hate the light of spring behind closed doors. In the year of the year, there are many immortals standing in front of the palace, looking at the fragrant hall. I went to Lao Cangjiang and slept late, afraid of arrangements, clinging to chickens and painting swallows. Enjoy the lights and slaughter Su in troubled times, now your mind is clear. ○How long will you live? How long will it take to change your scarf? The dream soul is still pointing to the class, who knows that Chang'an is far away. Then the sound of worshiping the cuckoo is cut off, and I lean on the dangerous fence, with my hair short in the wind. For whom is the news? Firecrackers are next to the east, and the green flags are trembling alone.
The spring lights are broken, and the wine cannot withstand the cold. Borrowing someone from the fence to drop the horizontal branches, it eliminates the feeling of passing years. The flying flowers of the guests are reduced together, and the waste is far away, and the clear lead is several points. The two swallows in the painting hall fly next to whose house, and the carved beams are newly occupied. ○Lying alone in the Cangjiang River, the old alliance found a flock of gulls. Don't rely on Huiyan to complain about your hometown, causing shock and waves all over the place. The spring plate of raw tea is not yet full. There are two plum blossoms in Beijing and half ashes of condensed dust. In the cold weather, I am willing to be loved by my neighbor and make easy money from the east wind.
The eucalyptus trees hang in autumn, and the ashes of honey are warm and fragrant. The silver platform is surrounded by double lines of flowers, and the place is connected to the clear dawn. Counting official Mei Xin early, accounting for time, Qiongxiao misty. The spring breeze is uncertain, but after the Double Ninth Festival, the peaches are full. ○The fields are wide and the sky is wide, full of love and affection. When the body is idle, the elixir of heart is as strong as ever, and Langyuan is full of immortality. With a smile on the root of the cloud, the colorful hair flies and the Zhu string plays the ancient tune. Two luan's cross each other, the sky is warm and fragrant, the red corns and black hats are there.
[Wushan Duan Yun]
The bead curtains are sold out and the spring embroidery is sold, and the golden furnace sinks in the evening. Forbidden flowers are scattered and a few apes are singing, which is easy to be the autumn shade. ○My eyebrows are small when I look at them from afar, and my tears are deep when the microwave reaches them. The color of the mountains is so overwhelming that I can only find it in my dreams.
[Pin Ling]
The orioles are released in the green cage. Yu Sheng calls and the clouds come and go. My thoughts are like a leaf in a palace. The old fragrance and old color are always next to the dressing table. ○Ah Luanxin sings at the end of the song. Also peeking into people's eyebrows. The lantern core returns to the autumn tent as the moon slants, and the tired farmer feels melancholy. Zheng strings rang across the alley.
[Zuixiangchun]
The green dust is condensed on the pavilion, and it is sad to see the flowers lying on the branches. Remember Jinse, who grows up with people and occupies the broken pearl curtain. ○More details: Qiao Chuda, not the time of year and the moonlight night. It's normal to meet each other. It's like a spring string unloading.
[Four Songs of the Happy Migrant Orioles]
The smile is shallow, the makeup is late, and the sweet things are gone. The horse with the embroidered saddle has returned empty-handed, and there is still an appointment for Yan to come. ○The mirror screen moves, the flowers leak forever, and I look at the shadow of the female bed Luan with regret. I met the curtains of my house in my dream, and turned to the east of the Song Dynasty wall.
yu worm cold drop. The curtain of falling plum blossoms shines on the door, and the light spring is still separated. The clothes are made of sorrow, and the distance is so long that the smoke is straight. It is made to have a bitter taste, a long-lasting beauty, and a mirror-like color. After chanting tiredly, I accompany the moon falling from the west tower. I am worried about the guests tonight. ○Happy traces. Holding back tears, I remember a few memories of my old home and check out the flutes and flutes. The phoenix is light and dusty, the luan and hairpin are dense, and the chants are filled with resentment, red and sad blue. I also think about the dream, how have I ever experienced the road outside the flowers? I haven't fallen asleep yet, and I feel confused and worried.
The wind is shaking. In the pavilion of the old age, there are two boats on the Miasang River, and the branches are divided into branches. The people and flowers are the best, and I still travel in the same year. The fragrance spreads over the turret pines, the fire is red, and the tangerine door is shaded by rocks.The swallow comes early, I ask if the residual cold has disappeared, will the fragrant voice return? ○ Leisure place. A few signatures were sent to Gu Meng Ji and Yan Yi, and the fight hung on Cangshan Mountain at noon. The resentment is back, and the end of the year is urging me to send you off, but I won't send a single feather of Manfan. He slaughtered Su Wumei since he was dead, and he relied on Huijian to write sentences carelessly. Move your pillow around, look at the scrolls of flowers and candles, and the red clouds.
Cangzhou Chengbie. It's freezing and astringent, and the wine is in my arms. It's rare to see snow in the south. The night is long, the guest's clothes are thin in spring, and the bed embroidered with gold thread is perfect. Tired of clinging to the leaves, I listen to myself in confusion and sing the flute festival. I hate my temples, they are fresh spots of clear frost, and the branches are shamefully broken. ○South Vietnam. The plum blossoms are dim, the fragrance is faint under the tent, and the sorrow is tied with the green lantern. The east wind is troublesome, the end of the world is easy, and the sound of Guan Jia is choked. When the trees come back, the waves in my heart are soft and broad. Looking for dreams, I am afraid that the smoke will completely cover me, and the yellow moon will appear by the sand.
[Ban female resentment]
Xie Tang is worried about thousands of things, and her makeup is thin. The green luan is upturned and the golden phoenix is wisps, looking forward to the passing of spring. Walking around the flowers, you can't hear the warblers.
[Two Songs Across the River]
The lingering fragrance floats in the mist on the Qingyang Road. Everywhere. The curtain has a flower bottom and a red door. No one lives there. What age. Pin Chun Su. ○Xiaocaoxiang, real pearl red note. Pick the string posts. The harp and harp make their own language. There is no public crossing. The west wind pays. Tide back.
sentences Chen Yuanwu faces each other. Twilight. Jiu Lan's courage is exposed. Liuying Road. Who draws it? Wucheng Fu. ○Afraid of heavy talk, Protector of Anxi. Qingcong goes. Qiu Lin has left the garrison since the Ming Dynasty. Wind and rain. You, the head of the city. Faint crow language.
[Three Songs of Xixizi]
The tragic song of Yan and Zhao people is here, and Meng's old home is overturned. He shouted for wine, but before the feast was half over, the strings of his zither broke. Sober up and startled. I will hate going up to the tall building and looking at Youzhou.
The warbler is singing in the green window. Sleeping on a mountain pillow will eliminate your frown. Good spring is gone, people are farther away. Jejunal rupture. Whispering phoenix grate golden trembling. Go to Ma Baochai Tower. Do not look back.
converted to Yanmen Qiuchai. Melancholy twists the belt of acacia. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart was broken. The void calls. Don't worry about breaking the bank. Look back and ask Goto. Change to Illinois.
[Two Songs of Drunk Taiping]
The bonfire lamps are cold, the books on the bed are broken, and a single leaf on the window is open, making me feel leisurely and full of sorrow. ○Xishan rebuked, the orchid was shameless, and in the dream, I was ashamed to cross the mulberry trunk, and there were tears before autumn.
green window to win money. Honglan Jianhan. Fighting against Chanjuan in the distance. Everyone is in the same mood. ○The skirt is wide. The tears are dry. I am worried about staying in Meishan. It’s a cold night after passing the West Tower.
[Reminiscences of Youth]
The smoke and dust can be seen for a long time, the ruthless Qingwei River will never return to the east. The desolate Du Lingsou sings his sad songs in the same valley. ○The moon is bitter and frosty. If you endure the flood, the willows will be new and the trees will be green. Where the wind-calling bird is, there is a pile of golden millet.
[The Second Song of Xijiang Moon]
When the Que Yuanyang Society disperses, the swallows move to their nests in the cold. Spring hurts people when they wake up from drunkenness. The wine is cold and the flowers fly far away. ○There is no dream in the mountain pillow for a spring, and there are two railings in the water hall. The shaft curtain comes to adjust the strings of the piano, and the east wind in the heart is in chaos.
Looking for the robbery and turning over the jade bureau, stealing the sound and recording the silver paper at night. Some leisurely things to celebrate the Chinese New Year. The style of the letter is really lazy. ○The musk deer on the sleeves of the shirt is resting slightly, and the parrots are talking about it. My own house is neglected. Check out the hairpins on the partition wall.
[Recalling Two Songs by Wang and Sun]
The sound of the jade flute is flying in the smoke. The boat opened up a patch of water. The hands of the jade zodiac are facing each other. Tired of flattering. Only Shaou has no feelings for the world.
Hua Ruozhangan wakes up from wine. Leaning alone in the lantern, dry rain comes again. The spring tide of sorrow arises day and night. When will it be flat? If you don’t believe it, you won’t shed any tears.
[Two Songs Between Drunken Flowers]
The slanting sun screens the mountains in darkness, and the waves are full of color. The geese do not fly back, the west wind weeps on the strings. ○Lang lives in Jinyanyi. A piece of paper has been obtained over the years, but he has no two wings. In the dream, the new path was vague, and the army moved, and the barrier was dark.
Lanjiao looks like ink on a cloudy spring day. The east wind has no strength. The two swallows plunder the bright ripples, secretly letting go of leisure and sorrow. ○ Tears add to the narrowness of the golden cup. Drunk and dazzled. Embroidered curtains are easy to separate. Xie Niang's thoughts are clearest. Who can tell the difference between the brocade paper and the book?
[Fourteen Songs for Picking Mulberry Seeds]
This year, Yanhua is on the roadside, and the true color screen is empty. The chaotic leaves fade into red, and fade into one or two peaks of the palace eyebrows. ○Guanhe thousands of miles hurt and brought tears to the eyes, and ruined the west wind. The word "Jin" means trouble. Don't go to a high building to count the number of birds.
Water essence quenches the thirst of people in sleep and dreams, but does not give them golden stems. With the help of Qianqiong, the spring thunder spins up and comes out of the vase. ○One spoonful also contains some ginger and stony milk flowers. Yuxi is cool and refreshing, and the flavor is clearer than sobering ice.
People say that the West Lake is beautiful when the moon spreads out, and the clouds are overcast even at dusk. Xiao Sen is in Jiaofang, and he has a spare room to listen to the rain. ○Su'e seems to cherish the loneliness of others and hangs low in the plain forest. The bridle is urged to sink in the west, and the money for the night comes unexpectedly.
It’s good to go up to the West Lake in the moonlight over the Three Pools, so I’ll go there with a drink. There are not many willows, but Peng Lang has white hair. ○Only when I lean on the railing can I feel the heavy fragrance of autumn and the heavy load of wind. Thousands of autumn snails and vast greenery rush to the mirror nest.
Look at the mountains and look for the West Lake, which is good, Xiaoyao is in the middle of the stream. The water pillow is surrounded by flowers, and there are countless scenery spots. ○The darkness shakes a leaf in the vast sky and bathes at the head of the swan bay. The cicadas are singing in autumn, where is the poet Huang Mianlou.
Fo Xiang Xian Bai West Lake is good, I live near Nanping. The patient's ears are dim, and he is used to counting the sound of the clear bell towards the evening. ○The sunset reaches the Huangfei Pagoda, and the grass and trees are curled up. The shadow is clear, and an old monk looks slumped in his towel.
Xianou knows the West Lake best and is willing to say goodbye to Qingdun. When you come to tell me about your kindness, you will be able to reach the shore in a small boat. ○At thirty, he lived in the pavilion and opened the pond and boat. Fight for leisure, and you will arrive at the door next year when the flowers are blooming.
Double moths, osmanthus leaves and Wu makeup are light, and the fragrant sleeves rest on the shoulders. The water is at the beginning of the round, the crimson wax wind is disappearing and the cold is fine. ○After the people in Yuehua divided their thoughts, the wild geese were talking in the sky. The dream of flowers is empty and the scenery is nothing like last year.
Cichao Wanluo low Feiyan, the general road is ruthless. My eyes are full of tears, and I can't live in the bitter taboo. ○The cloister is a place of misty meditation, greeted by the mist and moon. There was a sound of business in the dream, and autumn moss grew step by step all night long.
I know that my love is wandering and the spring is gone, and I cherish my time. Don't change the incense in the stove, just sit by the small words that calm your heart. ○The leisurely feeling reaches the water in the east of the building, and you can gaze at the bright makeup. Suohu Wenchuang, win a dream of many lives.
Fushengtian and Ji are separated, and no lingering is allowed. Thin and dry strings are all the reason for autumn people's freedom. ○The moon was shining brightly on the Ying'e Pond, shining brightly on Chan Juan. Farewell is like smoke, and nineteen years have passed by.
Now I know Liu Lang’s hatred, and I am in love with the phoenix and the phoenix. Not in Pengshan, only in the small fan room with low curtains. ○I am used to wandering around in my clothes at night. Who can see the moonlight? There is no reason for sorrow and joy, but the old dreams of high hills are still cold.
Don't regret that there is no bright moon tonight, and avoid Chang'e. The wine is full of fragrant snails, and the good night is spent watching people in dreams. ○After returning home, I lay alone in the rain outside the west window, with few idle tears. If you don't listen to the song, you will have already made arrangements to call Naihe.
Xianyun may not necessarily be able to think about it, but the questions are all over the paper. Piaomiao wanders among immortals, and loses his clear chants to a generation of virtuous people. ○I am unable to find sentences when I am old, and I sit here and cherish my years. By the side of the passing wild geese, my soul is broken and sleeps in the west hall during the day.
[Two Songs for Celebrating Spring]
After dusk, my heart and eyes felt cold. Do you remember the joy of the past? The clothes are fragrant and the shadows of spring are long and dry. ○Wu Yu listened and asked who pointed Gong Luan for the photo. The eagle is close to the bottom, and the moon is frozen, and it still looks like a green eyebrow.
In late spring, the door is closed, the clothes are fragrant and the clothes are fragrant, and the steps are shy. The young swallows carry mud in their mouths, and the long sun returns at an angle. ○The east wind is in chaos, not for the happy occasion. Add fragrant green quilt, named Zangfeng paper, to entertain when the flowers are falling.
[Two Songs of Licorice Seeds]
Autumn dusk. Awakening from the dream, the remaining crickets chatter in the agarwood household. The dark ink cannot form a book, the sky is far away and the wind blows on the road. ○Tonight, I am in a dimly lit place, asking the tired guest who will count the return journey. The wild geese in the infinite autumn heart are about to leave and pay the cold rain in the Chu sky.
天木. All the remaining crows passed by, and the windows were dimly lit. Dust rises all over the city, and the dark moon calls out to the Eagle Road. ○The place where Yan and Zhao’s old homes meet. The depths of his eyes are countless. The lone sword turned into a dragon by the bedside. There was wind and rain for a long time.
[Nine Songs of Poppies]
How many times the river has fallen, a sad scroll. The red frost sweeps away all the towers, winning a hundred years of peace and prosperity for you. ○ When making people's poems and poems, tears burst into tears when they are sad, and they burst into pieces in the ileum. Mo Chen has been robbed of the gray and cold together, but the autumn lights of Xiaoji are still facing Chang'an.
In the evening, the orioles fly out of the curtain door, and the wind horses sing in the eaves. Amidst the sound of spring rain at the end of the world, an inch of candlelight is still in love, and the feast is red. ○The clouds outside Wangjing Tower are full, and the eyes are filled with sadness. Famous stations blow cold old gold and win the pride of Wuling and the hearts of young people.
The misty moon in the water hall disappears the eyebrows and calyx, and the dream breaks off the qiongzhi. Sitting with a low frown and a deep look, I don't know what the pink fragrance, tears, and wet clothes are all about. ○In the dark sky, the zither sounds are rising from the west tower, and the curtains are blowing. Looking at people singing clear songs under flowers, I don’t believe that a spring dream of rain will be more sorrowful than it is.
Chaochao is sad and ashamed, and the heart is broken. The jade plum blossoms bloomed at the farewell banquet, but they said they would return before the flowers withered. ○ Yanzhou Road is on the screen, and when I wake up from drunkenness, I sing my sculls. Tears do not hesitate to wash the red paper, knowing that it is difficult to send a letter because it sticks to the waves in the sky.
When I was young, I was alone and wrote letters, but I was still in a daze while drinking wine. It is because of the luxuriant grass that I remember the skirt, and countless east winds frighten my dreams, making them unable to form clouds. ○Agarwood rains everywhere, and the broken mirror and flowing flowers disappear. Failing to face the spring tide without hatred, I have gained Hui Fan's heart and mind, so far.
I haven’t woken up from the dream of wild geese for many years, and the wild geese are wandering wildly. There is no need to discuss the people who hang sails, so they are born with Bianzhou and have no interest in it. ○The stubborn autumn waist and feet are unmanageable, and the long-term injury brings tears to the eyes. The old friend's letters fell into the west wind, but I emptied them of the dust of the mountains and rivers.
At dusk, the plum wind blows in the flute, and the grass spreads all over the skirt. A full column of red calyx should always be worn, and if you don't respect it, it will be reduced and your heart will be gone. ○He Lang's writing style is old, and he becomes annoyed when sitting under the flowers. The cold moon on the river calls me true, a wisp of sadness still lingers, so the branches are spring.
Zhu Xiaozang (1857~1931) was one of the four great poets in the late Qing Dynasty. A Zu Mou, named Guwei and Huosheng, also named Cangyin and Qiangcun, was born in Gui'an (now Wuxing County), Zhejiang Province. In the eighth year of Guangxu's reign, he was promoted to Jinshi. In the 30th year of Guangxu's reign, he came to study politics in Guangdong, but he resigned due to disagreements with the governor. He died in Shanghai in the 20th year of the Republic of China. Zhu Xiaozang began to be known as a poet. When he was a Beijing official, he made friends with Wang Pengyun, gave up poetry and specialized in Ci. His poems "integrate the strengths of various schools of thought, and his voice and emotion become more simple and rich, clear, powerful and meaningful. He is the leader among all the poets in the world. His poems are of high quality." He is the author of two volumes of the poetry collection "Qiangcun Yuye". His disciples died after his death. Long Yusheng is a supplementary volume, included in "Qiangcun's Suicide Notes".
Wu Ye Ciao·Tongzhan Garden, Dengji Altar, Thousand Buddha Pavilion
Zhu Xiaozang [Qing Dynasty]
Spring clouds stay deep in the virtual altar, the chime is first broken, and the steps around the pines and yin pairs lead to Zhu Lan.
The wind keeps blowing, the yellow line is mulberry stems, and the setting sun silently sets down Cangshan Mountain.
Qing Ping Le·Ye Fa Hong Kong
The side lights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is moving in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape?
The rivers and lakes are about to fade away, and the wind is blowing in the helm. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
Huanxisha·The only bird rushing to the waves
The only bird rushing to the waves means leisure, the rose clouds are like ocher and the water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian.
The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The place where I travel alone is not deserted or cold.
Nan Xiangzi · I can’t sleep on a sick pillow
I can’t sleep on a sick pillow, and I have tried my best to dream of Xiaoan. At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring.
The bottom of the song is with the respect, and the flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
Huanxisha·Cuifu Red Bandit Clip
Cuifu Red Bandit Clip welcomes the shore, and the wind is blocked for a while. Shui Chuang Guanzhu burst into tears.
If there is a meeting of Zen Yue Xindan, the rise of wine and sadness will always be unknown. To whom does Changchuan Guyue show his light?
[ Changting Complaints and Slowness Two Songs]
All gone, the emotions of crossing the river are windy and dew every year, the west gate of the country. There are cool clouds over the cyan sea, flying cyans last night, and the stone pavilion is hot. The cicadas and tall willows are everywhere, and the Pingping Island tree is broken. Don't sing and cherish the red clothes, it's like rain. ○Twilight. I don’t hate being separated from my classmates, I hate seeing my old family friends again. Qingdun's dream is broken, winning in vain, leaving without evidence. I have searched all over the fence and found no place for the mandarin ducks to sleep. The green covered pavilions are left to enjoy the setting sun.
Don't ask anymore, I am worried about the gulls and herons, the cold moon and the dusky sand, where will my dreams go? The old garden Cangbo, for whom the green comes, the old travel road. The stone scales are blown up by the wind, and they are whimpering in the autumn language. The running water is uneven, and there is no trace of dust. ○Previous degree. One day the wind was howling, and my steps came and went in vain day and night. New Pu Xiliu, ask who will believe it, good spring has no owner. Hate the two swallows, don't talk about the setting sun, and the smoke in the blue window. Only the mirror turns red, blocking Lingbo's new steps.
[Twenty-Seven Songs of Partridge Sky]
How heavy the cloud screen is in the dream, and the orchid period is still warm and full of old joy. The lights are floating, the embroidery is fanning, and the flowers are like sleeping, and the wine is not strong when I sing and drink the golden boat. ○Spring is silent, hate is in a hurry, and the cold letter from Fengcheng returns to Hong. The desire to keep silent is supported by the moon in the sky, knowing that the rain on high buildings is the wind.
Yeshui Inclined Bridge For another moment, I complained about my old knowledge with a sad heart. The desolate and charming Nanguo is passing by with a whip, and the pure and miserable Xifeng is peeking from the side. ○New snow tears, old string poems, and butterflies are coming from the gate. The red corn and the white chrysanthemum are all fine, but they are thinking before the wind.
Jade protects the fragrance around the unreal memories, and the lovesickness and wine stir up the hatred of spring. In the past, there were lotus leaves in the stream, and in the night after, there were clouds in the dream of pear blossoms. ○If people have faith, there will be no traces of things. Don’t be ecstasy if you chant lightly and get drunk. The round toads have not yet gone up and the setting sun has set. They have counted all the new toads and closed the door.
The wind leaves traces at the end of the sand, and the evening is cool. After the rain, the sound of mountain whispers makes me wake up in bed. Luo Wen's water is more stable than the empty dowry, and Pin Yu's sail is like a painting fan. ○In earthly affairs, in Shuiyun Township, the barbarians are good at planning and working hard to join the merchants. When I dreamed of returning to the moon and arriving at Wu Peng Yue, I recognized Shuangxi and sailed across it at night.
In the sentence, the spring posture is green and green, and the sky is newly blooming with traces of fat. There are trees and people standing in the distance, and orioles are flying around in the wind. ○Moving to the evening window, occupying the empty island, the flute is playing in the water window and the breeze is blowing. The eyes are full of endless emotions, and I want to pick apple blossoms and smile.
I shed tears in Tokyo to talk about my dreams, and lose my life in ruins of paper. With fragrant lips, I beg for wine to welcome the New Year, but when I become jealous, I hate the flowers given to me for the New Year. ○No words, but a long moan, a short crotch and an elegant cry. Don't think it's too much to be a good friend, even if you live with a good friend, you're also the boss.
On the right day, the alum head hates the short wall, but this year there is no gurgling behind the house. Green pine trees may not hinder a wise path, but gray hair certainly does. ○ Chi Lu'er, control the yellow shoulder, compete with Qiu Fan in hundreds of ways.Exposed the stick to the east and returned to the ear, and the servants were free to leave the camp.
The chanting is flowing on the temples and the tears are drying, and it is difficult to return to the sea. However, from the Jiu Mo cruise route, I recall the Shuangxi short pole boat. ○Outside the fields and rivers, beside the wild incense, I smile while drinking. The crows have all flown away and the firewood gate is closed, but the mountains are still full of people watching the setting sun.
The east wind is cloudy for ten days, and the sorrow of spring blows sparse hairpins on the snow. In the desolate day of the human world, the blue waves ripple in the hearts of the dead. ○I get tired of reading and pouring wine. I am lonely and have no place to visit. A night in Jiangcheng Huangmeiyu is not as deep as Xu Zhou's tears.
Don't be afraid of Tusu wine entering your lips, and the curtain door becomes strangely warm despite the snow remaining. The light from the sky lingers all night, and the flowers in the sea illuminate Mochun. ○The chanting temples are short, the colorful symbols are new, and the five lakes are still full of people who have not yet returned. It will be easier next year to help the plows and repay Tiao Mountain with a frame of clouds.
Everything is new in the Gangfeng eyes, what use is it to compete with floating clouds? Occasionally, I took action from the pheasant, but I refused to lower my head to pick up the benefits. ○ Worrying about the country's disease, groaning in agony, the whole family is pounding medicine to stir up autumn dust. Wine boats, tea sets, rivers, good weather, begging for cormorants in spring.
The Guan River in the city is clear with snow, and I wander alone to avoid the bright eyes. Spring sorrow is like water with gulls rising, and the mountains are like bridges and geese. ○The years have changed, and the fragrance of rain has disappeared. Who can write poems and send them to the thatched cottage? The temple bells ring when you wake up from the drunkenness, just like listening to river boats in the middle of the night.
Like the clear water, the hair shines on the temples, respecting the predecessors and the end of the world. The wine intestines are as thick as a halberd, and the writing pen is frosty and miserable. ○ Throw a pillow and sit down, roll up the old sigh, don’t be afraid of the crow roosting behind the evil crow. The red candles change to the human world, and the green mountains return to the dream home.
Hundreds of teams are traveling in the meandering spring, and thousands of forest steps are covered with light and deep clouds. The cloudy and sunny days are like wine, and the sadness and joy are flowers in the new year. ○The dream of flowers is short, the wine is sad, and the sweetness is endless. The Taoist does not smile at the east wind, but sweeps the floor and burns incense to write a book.
The little fairy is not beautiful, and the golden layer of the platform misses Chanjuan. I have paid Qianqi a favor several times, but I have endured loneliness for more than ten years. ○The water from Qiu arrows and the smoke from magpie furnace will scatter money without any reason. It's already the time to worry about the curtains, and I'm trying to send Xinhan outside.
The golden dou is filled with smoke towards the cool evening, and the frost is flying when it hits the curtain. The fragrant phoenixes formed a team one after another, and it was too crazy to shake the game. ○3 Sighing, thinking a hundred times, and severing the ileum are common. In front of the mirror, I learned how to throw my hair into a bun, but I was still jealous of the crazy flowers.
Tiny dust waves avoid Luo Shen, jade-faced fan and gentleness. The morning glory whispers pity in the palace at night, and rides at the palace gate to worship the Lord. ○The rain turns over, the clouds merge and leave, and the snow only sheds its old cry over the years. Qing Kuang would rather have no regrets when he goes away, but he embroiders a long banner to pay homage to the World Honored One.
His singing voice is always superb, and he has endured many lives without losing his temper. Zhirao is now using his hair as Xiangze, but he is not willing to use his body as a pillow. ○The toad bites the lock, the magpie crosses the beam, the owner is interested in Wang Chang. I am lucky to have a dream of a brothel, sitting next to a beautiful lady.
I heard that Chanyuan traveled to Beizhu, and the east wind was as cold as autumn in the garden. There are no more decorations on the palace body, and it is forbidden to make a bow in rows. ○Happiness is easy to disperse, dreams are hard to stay, and the female bed Luan tree is worried about others. The red silkworm is as haggard as the cocoon, and it has not rested since it has reeled out all the spring silk.
Looking in the mirror hazy and lazy to take off my hair, I laugh out of boredom in vain. Looking at the blue bird, the news is happy, but the black dragon lying on the ground is jealous of the matchmaker. ○The word "Sheng" is wrong, Jin Shuo returns, and he is willing to devote his efforts to the bed. I don’t know if the ninth day of the ninth lunar month is still the seventh day of the lunar month, and I fold a red note to express my hatred.
may not be young yet, just like the bees and butterflies. The side businessman Xiaoling renovated the water, and the old branches were crazily fragrant. ○In the wind and rain, some people are singing "Bi Hong'er" in a low voice. Only then did I realize that the golden bells were ringing all over the trees, which made people feel sad for the fallen leaves in autumn.
I have always loved you through all the calamities, and I will wear incense sticks with you. The ungrayed wax torches are spelled into tears, and the strings of the hanging strings are broken and I can't bear to stop singing. ○ Stop hesitating, it’s been wasted, and the whip is too much to bear. There will be encounters in the world, but what is the hope of youth?
Dare to learn from the ancient paintings of Pingxiang, but learn from the example of Shenggou Yuanlu. The scalp is still there to look at the mirror, and the heart is exhausted but the cup is covered. ○The ants are full, the horses and cows are shouting, and the names and official positions are in the general area. The monument is almost like a levy of Western characters, but Mr. Wang’s pen has disappeared.
Loyalty and filial piety have never been fulfilled. In recent years, Jiang has been extraordinarily warm. The rhinoceros horns in the eyes are wrong, and the cow clothes behind are full of hatred. ○Things are revealed, and the body of water is clouded, and the lyricist puts all his efforts in vain. It's sad that in this human world, there is no unfinished cause in other lives.
The water of the sob Dan Leng is not rippled, and the little red snails float around. Sitting in the wind, the autumn fragrance is close, and the coolness of the dew is too much. ○ From the filthy man, why will the sun die? There is no need to worry about the drunken captain in Ba Ling. The visitor in front of Baitouye Shiting Pavilion disappeared all his life, Ming Ke.
The cicada's wings are single and silky, but the silk is not light. The pink is clear and the vermilion is thin but becomes full and full. Call for the shameless hanging luan fan, don't pretend to throw the little wild goose kite. ○The clouds protect you, the moon is about to greet you, and you are the most pitiful among the people. Huahua is relatively used to it, so she doesn't want to respect her previous opinions.
Several high-rise buildings are hidden to send the sunset, and the Tianjiao evening festival is accompanied by the cold fragrance. The colorful clothes and the walking stick call for Wendu, and the vertebrae are bunned with Meng Guang in the New Year. ○Autumn is shining, the sun is long, and I can see red mulberry trees on the sea for three years. West Lake Return to the boat to look for the gulls to make an appointment, so that the plum blossoms can enter the cup.
[Second Fragrance Two Songs]
The sky is still misty, click away the two liang, and the corner of the building is green clouds. Dream appointments can't come, and a microwave can't hold you back. The injury has not been taken into account, but the autumn is still a little bit, and there is fresh frost on the temples. Gradually, I fall in love with you, miss you every other year, and drink deeply under the flowers. ○Who feels that the back is weak and twilight, and he is impatient to sing at night, and the jade rope is low. The plan for the five lakes is wrong, and the apple blossoms in the country are no longer what they were yesterday. What's more, the oars painted on the empty river are desolate and damaged, and Xiao Niang's eyebrows are in calyx. Waiting for a message, the river rises, and the moonlight sets again.
The color of dew is jade, with tears on one side, and the east wind can hear the flute. Dreaming of the old stone lake, the high branches have not yet been picked. Looking into the mirror, I feel a little sad about spring. I am worried about thinking about it, and I am writing leisurely in Jiangguan. Calling you to sleep, a fairy cloud appears, whispering cranes compete for seats. ○In the country of Xiang, the old covenant is silent, the sea of miasma is cut off, and the dust accumulates half a calyx. Feng Jian cried by mistake, not allowing us to meet but remembering each other. The discussion in the golden house was not approved, and the resentment was swallowed, and the Luoting was desolate and green. The message is waiting to be sent. The rare green feathers are cold and can be tolerated.
[ Zhu Yingtai's three recent poems by ]
The candle flowers are cold, the furnace spikes are heavy, and the makeup is half-curtained. Luo Fan's grace is sparse, and the word "Jin Ji" disappears. It is extremely pity that the spring shirt is wide and the autumn quilt is narrow, and the Chu clouds are heavy and the dream cannot support me. ○Drinking. Because we were separated from each other overnight, our temples turned into stars. There is no basis to remember each other, and there is no plan to pity each other. I would like to turn my heart into a round ice, fold it layer by layer, shine upon it, and draw a screen to the bottom of the mountain.
The peak screen is covered, the stone is noisy, and the evening sun is gathering outside the sand. Unexpectedly, the fragrance is sparse, but the beauty is still gorgeous. The noisy birds' crows break through the clear sorrow. When the east wind does not arrive, the countless branches will be blown away. ○Already feeling miserable. The wine floats on the clothes, and the maidservant sheds a thousand tears. It's hard to reach old age, and the clouds are dark at dusk. Therefore, the mountains are not without spring, and the desolate waves are mournful, but they come and stand on the threshold of the end of the world.
The bun is emerging, the makeup is swept away, and the hair is worn with slight steps. Walking onto the red carpet, all the seats are filled with eyes. The fragrant sandalwood shoots at the frightened giant, the spring orioles stop singing, and I want to listen to the fairy music of Jialing. ○More expressions. Walking empty-handed with the wind in your sleeves, liberation is always unimpeded. Is it Li Henan or Li Bomei. Sometimes I take off my singing shirt, put flowers in front of the mirror, pick one, and force Xiao Nan to wear it.
[Five Songs of Water Dragon]
Spring has gone for a long time in Baolan, but the jade slave is still trapped by the east wind. The thick posture is washed with tears, the loneliness is not allowed, the rain is crisp and the smoke is dizzy. The dimples disappear and the dust disappears, the ice silk is worn, and the beauty is strong. Since Xie Lang left, no one has asked about the money on Yaotai Road. ○We tease each other and don't agree with each other, but we accompany him to the palace to hear the news. In the days to come in the West Garden, there will be countless wilting flowers. Gradually blow into powder. What's more, Feiqiong is about to leave the song, but Su Luan has no faith. Looking towards the bright moon, I see a branch of dew, annoyed by the new frost on my temples.
The dream of beauty does not wake up and worries about spring, and there is a thousand red places to explore the beauty. Whether it is emptiness or color, Yao Ji is drunk and Vimalakirti is sick. Amid the sound of Jie drums, the red flags are visible, and the east wind stares at them. Laughing at the prosperity, idle bees and butterflies, the sky is chaotic, and there is frost. ○When I heard about the colorful decorations in the Tang Palace, I decorated the curtains as much as I wanted. If you lose his romance, you will have a cellar of fragrant clouds and spring flowers. The rapid growth brings beauty, the winter heats up the mind, and you have a good life experience. Ask the high-rise building to complain about the flute, howling at dusk, are the plum blossoms blooming yet?
The sky is like a thousand-foot collapsing pines, and the thunderstorm flies through the sky and reaches no place. A knight-errant in Beijing, wandering in the mountains and forests, this man is haggard. I'll just sit back and follow the dust. It's not my business to come to Kyushu. In the midst of an urgent calamity, I pushed away the plank and let go, confused and confused. ○ I also know the case of Peng Shang, who is saddened by the past. The Great Wall The horses are merging, and the clouds are beating against each other, and the autumn is thousands of miles away. Returning to lie down in the deserted river, my dreams broke in the middle of the night, and I shed tears in the miserable spring. What's more, it will bring sorrow and blessing, and the soul of Hunan will return, even in the human world?
Ten years of life were in danger, so Wang Jing climbed up the stairs in silence. Yu Yuan was in a hurry, but he could bear it for a moment and then calm down. The land is filled with worries, and the old dreams are banished, and they are all broken up once and for all. There is no point in the pain to attract the soul, and there is an edict to express mourning, and the tears in the sky are gone in the middle of the night. ○The dying Zhongxing disappears, and the wind and clouds cover the hills. Wuxi wrote an ode, Maoling asked for manuscripts, Zhan Ming has no limit. I sing a sad song alone. When the purple clouds go away, I will be desolate. The wilderness is left to fetch, man and nature are lonely and angry, and all the spirits are with him.
The official boat with painted curtains is in the clear autumn, and the five lakes are as smooth as the palm of their hand with wine. The Hairpin Festival is over, the plum trees are far away, and the mountains and rivers are safe. The golden tiger is in the wild smoke, the purple red is riding on the new horse, and the rewards are distributed with love. When I asked Huangchi where the sword energy was sinking, there was a sound of sheng and yu at the bottom of the pool. ○Who is the prime minister in the ancestral hall, and Fei Gou stays in ZTE's thoughts. The war drums of the east wind are replaced in a hurry, and the sound of the west pond is sung. A game of vicissitudes of life, nine poems and poems, and several times of despair. I hope that next year will be more healthy, the green walls will be rubbed again, and the yellow flowers will be poured into the wine.
[ decoding the five poems of ]
The rain is extremely cold, and the water is getting thicker near the West Pond, making the screen a scarlet color.I am tired of traveling, and I am shouting at the wine bar. I hear the beeps incessantly, and the distant sky is like ink. The messy leaves are red, suddenly scattered, and there are traces of mandarin ducks. Facing the floating smoke and dark candles, the ancient curtains are painted, and the country disappears. ○The green window has been full of resentment, and there are trees at the end of the world, and the sound of sadness is mixed in. There will be appointments and heavy dreams among the fragrant bushes. I am afraid that the flowers in front of me will drift away, and I will always be melancholy. After all the dry loads have been wiped out, they have never been reduced. Qiutang Boli. But winning, tears in the mirror, breaking the clouds together.
Xi Hua Chi Pavilion, protecting double drawing boards, light spring and low network. The shadows are smiling and dancing, the expression is graceful, and the worries are uncertain, and the swallows are fluttering and the orioles are moored. Don't bet on yourself, someone is there, watching through the wall. Put the clothes on the ground, rectify the phoenix hairpin, and the cicadas will still plunder the temples. ○The handsome tour in the West Garden seems like yesterday, the embroidered pillars are covered with moss and are easy to blow down. When I asked about it, I relied heavily on Chunjiao, and my eyes were full of lovesickness, and I couldn't hold my back. The pear moon is melting, and it is leisurely and evil. Dongfeng Hongsuo. At that time, where the fragrance was lingering on my hands, bees buzzed tiredly.
The green screen is fragrant and silent, and the bronze curtains promote the evening, and the jealous clouds are wandering. I remember that every year of Ye'e and Fangmo, the scenery changes several times, and the dust on my forehead is dark. Looking forward to the widow'e, for the spring scenery of the six streets. It is very clear that the blue luan has little faith, and the shaft of the moon is in the sky, falling and throwing it lightly. ○ Cangzhou is half lost in the old country, the copper and flowers are reflected in it, and the sky is full of sorrowful memories. I want to shed tears all over the place, and feel miserable for the Golden Immortal, who is about to die for the time being. Don’t sing into the small shadows of mountains and rivers. Play the mourning pipe. With a broken lantern on my back and someone supporting me, I dream of finding a cold post.
The broken incense traces lead to the cries of smoke and green feathers, and you can peek into the gap between the curtains. The dark tent paper, the remaining ink, and the musk dust mixed with it, half disappeared on the forehead of the palace. I endure the cold, have a makeup mirror, and cry in sorrow. I am disappointed that the new song scatters the snow, the old music has a faint fragrance, and the broken red cannot be found. ○I accidentally threw it in the dream of Yaotai, and the clouds on the beautiful mountains commented on the mooring, and I smiled shyly. When cooking, the cyan jade is always soaked in cold springs, ripples of sorrow, unable to change the spring. The soul has not returned, so I will not complain. High-rise building transverse flute , accompanied by dusk, backlight shadow, Cuizun can be seen.
The emotions are tied up with sorrow, and the bones are refreshed by the wild smoke. The sky is endless. Next to the dew well and the sparse leaves of tung trees, I believe that after passing through the cool dusk, I can paint the true colors of autumn. After the wine is finished, the geese and books are broken, and the clouds are floating in the northeast. Looking at the green mountains in the three mountains, the dust rising in the sea, it is difficult to remember the feelings. ○Come here and have fun. Looking into the fresh frost mirror, Wu smiles and his head turns white. Waiting to knock on the king and make a secret appointment with Luanchai, he is afraid that he will sleep soundly on the pillow and sell Yaobi secretly. I dreamed of entering Guanyu, but I was filled with hatred and cold waves. The west wind blows away, complaining and whispering, and accompanying others.
[ Qi Tianle Thirteen Songs]
The brocade nest is wet with red clouds in spring, and things are happening in the Forbidden City in a hurry. Leng Zong Yanjiao, stop bathing in the hot spring, and change the world with the east wind. In Chanyuan's dream, she deliberately put on new makeup, washed her cigarettes and combed her hair. Extremely jealous of Yaotai, the jade concubine is speechless and depressed. ○Lvzhang is melancholy and begs again. The night is full of wax, and his mood is unclear. I resent the coldness of the phoenix and the darkness of the toad, and the thick tears of Yanzhi are wiped out. The beautiful flowers are displayed across the street, and they are willing to lose to the west corridor, which is charming with spring peaches and plums. If you don't marry Hanzhang, the plum blossoms will fall and the remaining pistils will be regretted.
Longchi is light-colored and the east wind is gentle, and the spring light shines through the city first. Three rises and three sleeps, one wave and one sleep, decorate the cold time. Ninety-nine pieces of silk and silk are replaced by a new look. Mo Chen was amused. In the magpie tail incense, I waved my Hanyutang hand a few times. ○ Qingyin: Things are far away in the sky, the royal screen announces the office, and the jade case is in the velvet. Liuguan Time, a century-old cultural relic, is no ordinary nostalgia. Fangshao is all there, but there is no spiritual harmony in the dream, and the rain is soothing and the smoke is slipping away. I broke the moss paper and filled it carefully with plum blossoms and thin pistils.
The flowers in the city are like sleeping in the cold weather, and the rain can be heard all night long. The old foil lamps are floating, the new mud is clogs, and the misty spring mood is in the empty mountains. Looking for gulls on the road, asking who is the master of the severing of the alliance in the desolate snowy west bay. The astringent finger refers to the frost string, and the sorrow of the night window is pressed against the last year's score. ○ Tired cranes hang by the drooping rainbow, twittering thousands of times around the branches, complaining empty-handedly about missed dates. The bamboo book lattice is covered, the branches are intertwined with the mirror screen, and the sparse fragrance is abandoned. As Wu Bo said, he was afraid of stepping heavily on the rock and getting lost in the dust. Later, we made an appointment with a secluded neighbor, and the dream clouds separated the fields.
After half a day of cold weather and dusk, the plain forest gradually becomes more sad. Tired shadows nestle in the smoke, sour voices are silent in the moonlight, and the north and south of the city are full of dust. Chang'an html The four-year-old girl cries into Yanqiu again, pecking her all over her old home. Asking about the setting sun, Yuyan lamented about the old round fan. ○The birds flying south are astonished and dispersed in the sky. The bad formation is in the autumn, the empty boat is treading in the dark, where is Yang Kanlian's love. The dream of Jiangguan is short, and I am afraid that the old nest will be replaced every year. A single crane returns to nothingness, so don’t regret it when it is late.
The leaves in the high forest are unnoticed, but the autumn is less shocking in Chang'an. Tears cover the sparse lapels, sorrowful calls break the corners, and new knots are wounded in the arms. The road back is bleak, facing the swaying Cangzhou, surrounded by thousands of traces of dreams. Standing until the setting sun reaches its limit, the old friends will not arrive together with the wild geese. ○The chaos of the Qing Dynasty is reduced, the old sentences are embedded in the wall, and the tobacco is empty. The homeland is full of dragons, flying immortals support cranes, and the news is faintly heard Jiang Biao. The centrifugal force is quiet, playing a flute at dusk, the water and wind are still in tune. Send a message to Nanyun, the people of Maoling are getting older.
A light red is not as good as Qiong Niang's dimple, but a heavy step builds the new Asia. The musk hair is in fashionable makeup, the clouds are melting into greasy jade, and there are handfuls of ice silk in front of the mirror. The soul of spring gradually fades away, leaving the fragrant basket and fairy clothes, and the cold clouds are all removed. Awakening the loneliness, who is carrying the autumn couple? ○The man in the clothes has not been gone for a long time, and the painting railing is not warm, so he went to visit. The bright brocade is at the beginning of the frost, the setting sun is at the end of the tree, and the sadness is gone into the dusk. After dreaming of the fairy city, the remaining lead tears are secretly flooded, and I remember you in the clear night. The moon falls in the river sky, where can I write in the green silk?
Candle dragons fly onto the coral shore, and thousands of lights in the sky become buds. The dried scales cover the spots, and the scars are obtained, which are condensed into the continuous stream and collected in the morning. The smoke is moist and the dew is irrigating, so I wear a warm velvet towel, and I have been able to endure the cold. The old spring bushes are gone, but the poor Zhu Feng is still in her old nest. ○The beauty of the Yue Wang Terrace shines brightly on a stormy night, and the sky is half dark. The cocoon butterfly moves home, the scenery of Rongsha changes, who can see outside Gugen Ridge. The Jiao Ke has not been changed, so it is good to stay there every year, and I wish you the best. The dream is full of hibiscus, and the sun is blooming on the green sea.
I endure the tears of the new pavilion every year, and the country is too devoid of talent. The villages are empty and the battlements are destroyed. Where can we go in such a difficult situation? Frost is rising in all directions, with the sound of frightened geese, half-military. I am used to mourning the autumn, and it is always boring to belong to each other. ○Who can share the beauty of faith when you climb up the stairs? If you haven’t returned to the lake and the sea, how many separations can there be? Flowers will fade tomorrow, white hair will appear in the morning, and people will be surrounded by misty waves. The old gift of dogwood, looking at the floating clouds in the northwest, makes me wake up drunk from a dream. And the shadow of the dangerous fence, leaning on it without hesitation.
Hemp shoes With no intention of returning, I feel lonely in the world. The whole room pretends to be cold, and the guests return from far away, and the autumn tide of separation and hatred grows with them. The chanting is dirty, and I want to leave my life in the mulberry fields, so I go back to the place. Taking care of one's own mourning strings, who can save Du Ling in the Northern Expedition? ○The wind returns to the lonely tree gradually. I can’t climb up the side, and I feel melancholy on the wrong road. The Gujiao Central Plains, the vast swamps of mist, what a place worthy of alliance and restful soil. The lonely light is close by, Shengshou is lying on the deserted river, looking at it with his white head. The dream music book, the sound of wild geese in the south of the building.
After the lonely minister Jiang Hai Zhan Ming, his beloved wife returned to him for ten years. Du Lao's hemp shoes, Winter Lang's candles, and long-knotted goblet are in past dreams. Wu Gou is sitting there, willing to grow old and sink, and has always been flying. Don't worry about the world, don't work hard and enjoy the glory of the day. ○Leaving the country with a white head and a light fortune, the road has lost its ancient meaning and destroyed the fragrant urn. Doubei is climbing, Zhounan is falling, and the moon is still bright for thousands of miles. The hemp is folded and sent away, but the gulls still have the intention to cherish it. Yue Ke chants, and the sick shoulders are shrugged by frost at night.
The remnant cuckoo in Xichuan is crowing, but the country has not sold out its literary algae. At the beginning, Qingmin bloomed into green ink, and the wax flowed as brightly as possible. I hold the sutra alone, facing the kitchen there are several rainbows, and I hold a huge treasure. The rare book is so large that it is surrounded by crimson clouds. ○Tianzhang is relieved of his anger, and the luan returns to the phoenix dance and flies down to Pengdao. The secret book is engraved with flowers, the magic goblet is used to understand the secrets, and the family method can be revealed in the forest. The humble ministers chanted and prayed, thinking about entertainment and entertainment, and the signs of ZTE. Shijie Gongjian, right text and read and recreated.
The emerald green is slightly ethereal, the tower is Asia, the frost is beautiful, the sky is bright, and the island is in the sky. The mountains protect the clouds, the waves absorb the moonlight, and I dream about the windows separated by flowers. The fragrance period is dark, and I am afraid that the water leaves will turn red, and I will feel like last year. Who invites the east to hide in the old place? The pines and laurels in the hall are full of fun. ○Who knows the clearness of a lapel, the soft dust cannot fly, Ran Ran's poem. The merchant chants the whining flute, and the jade plays the idle flute, but only the gulls can speak. I am tired of traveling in the west wind, and I hope to return to the boat with great despair. I will pay for my leisure time. Stand up to the setting sun, and the flowers are deep even to the villa.
At dusk, even the trees are fisted and the crows are silent, and the river is cold and the flute cannot be heard. The leaves are frightened by the waves, the wind blows and the horns are broken, and the sad farewell returns to Luan thousands of miles away. The lamp window leans on itself, the ice gradually folds into Wu Mian, and the wine is thin and careless. There is still a lingering fragrance, but the deep night does not warm my old heart. ○The deserted chicken calls the tired traveler in vain, but when the frost and sleet gather, who will take advantage of it? The sound of arrows and water is numerous, the lattice yarn is light-colored, and the cold toads are sleepless. The green quilt in the west building is afraid that I will be sad overnight and it will be difficult to send the jade. The dawn waxes with red cries, and the traces of dreams are washed away with tears.
[Two Songs of Crow's Night Cry]
The spring clouds are deep in the virtual altar, and the chime is broken. Walk around the pine yin with double leads and come out of the vermilion balustrade. ○It blows constantly and the yellow line is mulberry stem. The sunset is speechless again, going down Cangshan Mountain.
The west tower gurgled all night, and the jade furnace was broken. Only the apricot blossoms are at the same temperature and the weather is cold. ○The spring tide is long, staring at the sky, the magnolia boat. If you don't believe in the word "Return Date", please read more.
[Dream Lotus Two]
Xixia Mingduanqi. Bring the east wind to the geese, and the bamboo shoots will be ten miles away. The spring road is empty in the mirror, and my mood is light. Pan Yu seeks wild drunkenness. It attracts autumn glances every year. Looking forward to visiting the mountain spirit, I regret that the servant girl is not ready, and the orioles are calling out. ○Turn to Yaotai’s eyes. It is suspected that there is a double success, so the chain is ended. The old dust is like a dream, and it has to be washed away by chaotic clouds. Stay in the saddle to eliminate Ming Cui. The setting sun is cold and cold. I am not afraid of the spring review, I know that the road to immortality is close, and the slightest steps sound feng shui.
curtain flower shakes Mengqi. Leading the way to Yunchao, we reached the village of Liva. The blue waves have no shore, and autumn is outside the golden opportunity. The cold clouds make the guests drunk. Xiting once tried shampoo. In front of the crisp flute wind, people calling for autumn are walking late, and fine dust is rising from their socks.○The scrolls are all at the bottom of Wuhun.com. The sound of the flute comes and goes, and the pendants are scattered in Zhongzhou. Tyranny asked again, smiling redly. The distant peaks are closed to sweep the green leaves. The mandarin ducks express their jealousy. Cooking at home, looking for old stories from barbarians, drifting across the five lakes.
[Raofo Pavilion]
The cyanotic smoke gathers in the sky, the incense outside is resting, and the decayed light shines on the Xiao Temple. Pearls and dew float on the pistils, which always urge handsome couples to get drunk every spring. Leaning against the painting railing again, who would have expected that peace and hatred are difficult to deal with. The remains touched the ground. There must be an autumn soul secretly awakening in the middle of the night. ○The characters on the wall are scattered, and the detailed words have been lost for hundreds of generations. What's more, the old friend shed tears when he was hurt. The west wind is always cold, and the flute next door is eerie. Don't know the future yet. There is a situation in the west hall where I sit alone and have no sleep. Around the flower shade, the traces of dreams are like water.
[Preface to the Oriole's Cry]
The light clouds are dim near the building, and the spring clouds are everywhere. The painting railings are wrapped around, the frozen willows are first weeping, and dark knots form in the sky. The little birds are calling, the years are passing by, and the desolate waves are wandering late, but there is no doubt. I am away from people, my heart is broken, the sun is setting, and the flakes are falling. ○In the past ten years of Donghua, I have been obsessed with wine and relied on my own faith. Looking at the road in the mirror, I can see the familiar West Pond, where the sound of Chu Yin flows and the resentment of red green is flowing. Endowed with deep feelings, Lanquan embroidery brush, tears bursting, copper fairy lead water. I am accustomed to hurting spring, and the butterflies and orioles are silent. How can I wake up from my dream? ○Liu Lang is getting old, Pengshan is just around the corner, and he is tired of old travels. When the sky is tight and the east wind blows, the crimson pistils turn upside down and the misty cuckoo sounds mislead people. The Milky Way is moving at night, the Pearl Palace is knocking in the morning, and the incense paper flies out of the Luan seal script, quietly and darkly, the sea is vast and the stars are hanging on the ground. Love is full of resentment, and the foggy cloud windows in the pavilion suddenly throw away the red weft. ○Old songs from Hengfen, new chants from quarrying stones, materials for painting are just late. Afraid of inspection, outside the furnace and smoked flowers, the flute music is on the edge of the plum blossoms, the wine is sober and the goblet is on the edge, Fengcheng Twelve. Drinking in the tent at the east gate, carriages and horses on the west platform, looking back at the place with white heads in the rivers and lakes, cherishing the beauty, and having to cover the wounds with high robes. The white gull is gone and it is difficult to tame it, the swallow curtain is alone, and its soul is wandering thousands of miles away.
[Fifteen Poems of Bodhisattva]
The Japanese in the green cloud fell into a low position and his servant girl was heavy, and he was doting on each other for no reason. Peacocks fill the southeast, and the water in Shenzhong is filled with water at night. ○Some people have red candles on their backs and light makeup on their eyebrows. Why do you plant spring sorrow? When spring breaks, the sorrow will not end.
Both faces should be angry and happy, and the new and charming look is unconstrained. The mirror is filled with tears, and I am jealous of spring. ○Two swallows in the middle pond, learning and speaking are different. The waist and limbs are worked hard, and the flowers are tired to support her.
The orioles' cries break through the red clouds and heat, depriving him of the season of deep sleep and flowers. If the swing is not dismantled, who can be patient in spring? ○The peaches are not fully climbed, and the beauty is lost in secret. Teach him Yu Wei Sheng, both of you will listen or not.
I sleep with my head covered with a long book in the phoenix nest, and I have no intention of raising flowers and fighting on the grassland. Supporting the dream to go down the west tower, I feel sad on the Furong River. ○The road is long and the oars are rushing, and the teams are bathing in red clothes. If we don’t live together in Hengtang, Qiuchao will be busy day and night.
The talented dragon cake leaves people with words, and the gift of treasures drives people away. Going to live in two hazy places, there is no way to connect with each other. ○I turn over the elephant game in the morning, and I am too lazy to draw the Qiongchai divination. Until the flowers fall, you will not know the sorrow of spring.
The dragon species sheds tears in front of the flowers on its sleeves, and its white head gathers its collar to smell of spring. I am walking wildly on the solitary tent, and the wind is blowing from east to west, north and south. ○ I glanced at the old tree, but no orchid buds were seen. Pouring wine behind the curtain, the pear blossoms are cold to the heart.
The wind is strong in Xizhou and the birds are chirping, and the swallows in Wenliang have no place to live. Looking at each other in the Yujin Hall, the heart is full of fragrance. ○The beauty of the mountain is frowning, and the spindle is spinning. Lang's intention is not clear, and the green window is idle and dreaming.
carp The wind is blowing and the waves are rising, and Huang Gu is knocking on the stars at night. The ice shuttle is gathered with a smile, and the river is newly crossed with a slight frost. ○The zither has long and short pillars, covering up the sound and having no owner. In the dream, green plums are thrown, and the flowers in the garden are spread out.
Flowers turned to Baole Xinfengqi, and Shen Shenfang's book gold shop closed. The mountain pillow is greasy and red, and it is like throwing the luan handkerchief at a feast. ○The brocade machine has no strength, and the dense threads are woven in pairs. Thoughts are written in ashes, and Chunluo calligraphy comes.
The dogwood brocade bouquet is narrow and the Hu shirt is narrow, and the wearer is sitting on his shoulders, leaning against the flowers. Turn back the fan to call for the wind, and the red birds will bloom in the spring window. ○I feel sad and heavy, thank you Xingyun for sending me. The sound of arrows and arrows is faint, and people with floating lanterns do not return.
There are staggered pairs of bee-ya and butterfly pavilions, and the four corners of the pavilion are decorated with tassels. A sudden breeze blew over the bridge, and the wild flowers turned red. ○ How come the jade seals and green tassels are full of twists and turns. Shang Lu understands the chain, but it is difficult to take action in front of others.
Weak Yang looked down at Qin Heng, the old man. The treasure belt is a sparrow and fur, and the east is at the top. ○The pills on my back are strewn across my back, and my hands are turning around. It saves energy and produces red mulberry, and the heart of the flower is fragrant.
The whole mirror is full of reds and rushes into a single boat, and the baht clothes are in turmoil. Xinyu made an appointment with Xia for dinner, but she regretted not having a book to repay him. ○ The fairy skirt has a thin pleat, covering the mandarin duck's sleep. The word brocade is too unfounded, and leisure and sorrow arise hand in hand.
My belt was untied last night and turned into knots, and I was afraid of the wind when it invaded the green space in the morning. Don't go near the west end of the river. You will be completely naked. ○The heart of the piano is with you, and the dream breaks the couple of Qin and Taiwan. The paper tube is full of autumn, and the mirror is red with tears.
The insects sing in the cauldron of warm medicine, and I am tired and don’t care about the remaining lamp.The river geese are sleeping in sorrow, and the thin curtains are catching the dawn cold. ○ A careful inspection of wine glasses will reveal the depth of alcoholism in autumn. Don't worry about your waistline, just wear it down.
[Four Songs of Tasha Xing]
A single shirt that shines in the water, a small fan with a fragrant fragrance. In the evening, I feel sad and lean on the railing. The cold gulls don't come back every once in a while, and the mirror's heart turns red overnight. ○After being drunk in the mountains and lakes, it hurts the heart. Autumn comes to draw complaints about Wucheng. The tired guests of Xie Tang always disappear, and no one sheds tears to wet the flying swallows in the west.
The wax snow suppresses the plum blossoms, and the fragrant ash drains the wine. Those who cross the river fall behind the east wind. Crazy reputation and short clothes, separation and separation are like willows in a long pavilion. ○The frost in Yan Guan is heavy, and the moon in Liang Yuan is thin. Thirty years of scenery for nostalgia. I spent my old age with tears and Jiangnan, and spent my time worrying about the messy flowers on the wrong road.
The name of the word "jin" is fragrant, and the meaning of the strings of the piano is wonderful. Twelve garland flowers. When the wind comes, there should be the harmony of Feng Sheng, and when the moon shines, the eyebrows of the moth will be bowed. ○The snow is clear and the clouds are white. Yutai The family law is thousands of years old, who can interpret the flow of waves in the south of the Yangtze River, and share the king's beautiful words to eliminate debts.
Flowers win more than time, love words in the basin. It is a majestic night of ice and snow, and there are many clouds at the end of the day. How can you, sir, be an idle chanter? ○Short brown romance, the Great Wall sounds pricey. Song Yi's poems were written in the same society, holding a cup and dancing with a sword, and scrambling for a picture of smoke and silk.
[河都神]
The wax smoke of the candle trees is faint, and the white horse in the flower robe comes. The sky is moving across the sea, green dust is flying, and the flags are full of flags in the morning and evening. ○The wet mist lingers in the Banzhu Courtyard, and wild crows circle like an array. The emperor's son did not return in the evening of autumn, and he dreamed of the bronze chariot in his single quilt.
[Four Poems of Linjiang Immortals]
The old covenant has been lonely for ten years, and the high buildings have been cleared overnight. The blue sky is like water with geese flying in the air. Under the fluttering bamboo, there was the sound of sleeping on the bed. ○It is a pity that the desolate stream stirs up dreams, and the apes and birds in the simple book are still frightened. Call Mingyue urgently to send you a cup. Eliminate worries and spend your life with a pair of smiles.
There is no place to talk about the lovesickness at the bottom of the flowers, the incense remains and the candles linger. The spring cold is distributed to the single habitat. The sorrow is greater than the amount of brocade, and the hatred is curled up in Luoyi. ○Who believes that by the side of Xie Niangxiang Pavilion, the brocade characters at the end of the world are mesmerizing. The willow flowers are blown by the wind and the orioles are singing. Don't weep on your lonely pillow, looking for dreams in the west of the moon.
Keep the money in front of you and drink deeply, and don't have to worry about it. The bright moon lingers on the tall building. There is no doubt about waving the glass, but it is not appropriate to stop playing the flute. ○Personnel information has been lonely for a long time, and dreams come to China. I can't stop crying at midnight. There are love songs in the small sea, but there are no girls watching the high hills.
Autumn is gone and I have nowhere to go. I chant leisurely, drunkenness and restraint. Who knows that old travel in Xishan is wrong? The spring bamboo shoots in the street are cheap, and the fish are fattened in the net. ○ I will never ask about the fate of this life. Chunfan will return to his post. Only Ying Yang is my teacher. To avoid people, the horses are coiled, and the eyebrows are placed accordingly.
[Xia Fang Yuan Si Province]
sells the powdered rice and reduces the incense tube . Bend your knees on the copper shop to support you and fan the wind. The fragrance of weeping lingers in the dew of the tung trees beside the well. The meaning of Yi Qiu's words is red, the sleeves are red.
The palace willows are green and the water is red. Tears and eyelashes listen to the orioles, Xie Niang returns home in spring and misses her. It's better to have the same mind as Weizi. The two phoenixes are whispering in the cool night, in the middle of Shu strings.
The autumn water falls, and the stone lotuses are empty. Stepping into Lingbo, the old flowers and skirts are red. Across the river, east wind blows in the evening. For whom to drive a boat and pick hibiscus.
The joy is cold and the jade platform is empty. Resentment enters the Xiangtian sky, and dreams return to the waves with red fishtails. Qulan blows the wind. Countless colorful clouds rise in the east of Jintang.
[Qin tune lovesickness]
The east wind blows in the dream and is as lazy as the clouds, and it is the song that occupies people's arms. The flight of wild geese is low, and there is a mess of dust. ○ I am walking alone with my mind on the stiff treasure se, and I am wearing a scarf in the Pavilion of Leisure on both sides. Xiaolianzhuhu is still from last year.
[ Jade House Spring eleven poems]
The dream of the silver screen is warmer than the hairspring, and the cicada and daisy brush are warmer than the comb luan mirror. The two moths are eager to learn and the mountains are far away. How many spring sorrows are full of them. ○The book does not come late for joy, it will haunt me thousands of times. There is no basis for every word of lovesickness. It is better than the south tower behind the geese.
Beside the Jinse dressing table, the sky in the south of the Yangtze River is so far away when I wake up from my dream. If you change it to Pan Yanjing, you can see that Chu's waist skirt doesn't care about her thinness. ○Don't regret meeting each other late when we are in love. We will hold the red incense in our hands and cherish it. Ming Dynasty There is an east wind in the land, and there is no place to persuade with hundreds of lamps and thousands of cups.
The gold-winged bun invades the morning silk, and the jade poppy in the water feels short. silk dyeing is in urgent need of spring, and the red color will be lighter before washing. ○The scenery of throwing shuttles reminds us of the Spring Festival Gala, and the Beidou hangs on the city to hear the leaky board. I pick a luan as a ribbon and send it with peach roots, so that I can share the warmth and coldness of your heart.
My heart is full of charm, but my husband's intentions are mixed. The flowers cannot be connected without stems, and the geese cannot fly away if they are sentimental. ○The spring breeze does not allow the flowers to stay idle, and the whispers lead to the empty clothes. I will ask you about your return sooner or later, and you will look at your temples in shame.
The music and songs are quiet at night on the cloud screen, and no one is allowed to listen to them in sorrow. Yan Gui is a talker at the bottom of the flower, and wakes up when the moon is full. ○ Yingying hates the dimples and looks into the mirror, but hates the shadows on the temples if you don’t believe in them. There is an east wind outside the five-shift curtain, and tomorrow the flowers in the South Garden will settle.
Waking up at dusk from the farewell wine, walking around the West Pond, the waves are like mirrors. The rain adds sourness to the green plums, and the wind clears the cherries. ○The toad flowers still illuminate the deep path, and the return date of the annoyance and chaos has not yet been determined. The dream is heavy, the wax lamp is red, and the bed is half cold and heavy, and the quilt is left.
The oil walls of the embankment are soft from car dust, and the sleeves are dyed with spring water. When will the orchids crow and the eyes clear, and the osmanthus leaves will make up the light in front of the eyebrows. ○The penis leaks into the Qiong tube at night, and the musk deer smokes at night after returning slightly drunk. The little toad is like a mirror, don't peep into sleep, it is displayed by one's own hands on the winding mountain.
It is already the setting sun and dusk, who can live under the albizia flowers . I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no fixed path. ○It was not a sentimental encounter at that time, and Hongying went with the water. Don't sleep alone to find each other. There is no place to join hands in the dream.
The sound of the boat is similar to the sound of crows rolling over Wu, but the words on the machine are not sent to Wu Niang. Just by the tide coming downstairs, I will take the old and new tears in front of you. ○The bath orchid joins hands with the year to eliminate the intoxication of music and songs. The time of flowers does not hurt the spring, but the sorrow of spring is not solved.
A young man who doesn't make any plans to kill off his youth will live up to the banquet and banquet. The cuckoo sings on a good day and night, so we must pay attention to the spring today. ○The setting sun is full of smoke and willow ileum, and the light rain orchids sheds a thousand tears. Waiting to find it in front of me, I want to avoid the spring sorrow except being drunk.
It is already the setting sun and dusk. Who lives under the acacia flowers? I know in my heart that when the moon is full, my body is like a broken cloud with no way out. ○At that time, there was no amorous encounter. The wind blows and Hongying goes with the water. At dusk, we lay alone on our pillows, looking for each other. There was no place to join hands in the dream.
[Cockfight Chapter 2]
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the twins are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○Jiang Lang hates him to the end of the world, and is afraid to see him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain is solved, and half of the bed is messed up.
Meibian respects you, and remembers the horizontal branches. The post road is far away, and the sorrow is shallow. Looking at the dusk, no one can be seen due to the cold. ○The green servant girl's pink cheeks are still there, why does the sound of the green bird change? The moon is late and moss is growing all over. Dreaming about sparse fragrance, playing the flute in the middle of the night.
[ Tang Duoling three poems]
The first month of the month is slanting in Tiange, and the colorful clothes are leisurely in the old home. If the disease is caused by the west wind, it will also protect the screen. Enjoy the feeling of lonely and cold butterflies, but the fragrance is not there, and there are crows on the temples. ○The frost on the side of the hat fades, and all kinds of feelings increase in front of you. The people who roll up the curtains are both at the end of the world. The truth is that when you look in the mirror with autumn makeup, people are, after all, lighter than flowers.
sweeps away horse hoof marks and eliminates condensation and oil wall dust. The red heart and the frost are frequent. A jade hook sloping along the road, no longer intended, Douluo skirt. ○The dark green is charming, and the orchids are desolate in ancient spring. From year to year, we garrison the deserted villages in cold weather. Tears burst into the west wind, and the original small fire is still there, but the soul has not been summoned.
The shade of the corridor turns to the sparse locust trees, and the round toads illuminate the upper steps. Relying on Kong Zun and wandering in cool dreams. How many Qingxiang and Yao people complained, how many times, cranes flew over. ○The calyx of the lamp is half turned into ashes, and the short book is written thousands of miles back. Both Baoyan and Wangui are in bloom. In the past, all the people leaning on the railing had changed. When I asked what happened, I fell in love with the world.
[ Yanshan Pavilion ]
All the rain is gone, the light is pale yellow, and countless crows are frightened overnight. I hate Hannan. In the old days, there was only chaos and dust following the fence. After sleeping for no reason, I forgot about the misty rain in Longchi. Why bother. He pressed Che Yiliang again and replaced him with gold thread. ○It is a taboo habit to worry about one's life experience and rely on solitary roots. The clear frost accompanies people when traveling. In the west bagpipe, the mountains are full of eyes, and the spring cannot be held by silk threads. Since I am afraid of the waist of the palace, I have often been jealous of people leaning against the curtain. Go back. Still dreaming about the wind all day long.
[Three Songs of Qi Liao's Resentment]
Falling to the ground, the wine is as sweet as snow, and the nightingale wakes up from the drunkenness. With eyes open, there is a curtain across the water, the color of the weeping poplars, the pavilion in the sky above the green sky. A new sorrow has arrived by the gull's side. I respect the guests in front of me, and I am afraid of the hair on my hair. Leaning quietly on the fence, you can see wind and flowers everywhere, and the flat spring is scattered and full of thoughts. ○I didn’t get tired of traveling. When Wu Hao's shadow happened, when would he stack the drums and cast a bow? The clear waves of the green ladle, ten years of words, sigh with sorrow, the night light is silent and silent, always sold out, the love of my hometown. Flowers fly to Fengcheng, the east wind is shorter than the dream, and the tears are zero.
The flute is heard and the cup is gone, the mash is frozen and the tears are congealed. Facing the cold moon, I lie on the beam in the sky, the maple forest is black, and my dreams are broken without any basis. When I was young, Huang and I gathered together to say goodbye. It hurt our eyes, and weary guests looked at each other. Strange miasma flowers, haggard and broken red silk, hurried away, looking for the fallen alliance in the night ditch. ○The most important thing is my old friend Maoling. Rubbing the green ink, the feelings seem to be drunk but still awake. Talking about the drifting in detail, there are mourning geese, two or three calls, the horizon calls back Liaohe, teaches recognition, the old spring city. The soul of the poem is shocked, the flowers are in the shade, and the dust is dark.
The fragrance of willows blows in the shop, and the wine curtain outside the river is green. Next to the water, the cuckoo whispers, and under the spring shade, I call to the flag pavilion. Middle-aged people are full of sorrow and resentment, latent urges to change, snow on their temples and nightmares. When the peak rises and the river passes, no one can see it, and the dust of the old country grows dark. ○ I died of illness in Maoling. After the Bronze Immortal left, Jie Hui was afraid to ask Kunming.The atmosphere is full of tranquility, the old man is Mi Jiarong, the scenery of falling flowers in the south of the Yangtze River, and the love of ten years. A grieving infantryman, I wish I was drunk with sorrow and shed no tears.
[Ugly Nuerman]
A few crows fly low, flying through the wet smoke and chaos, secretly leading to the end of the year, and the columns are white. Leaning thinly on the branches, I dream of the city without leisure. Qionglou is dark and gloomy. The jade concubine is tired of dancing, but still loves the cold. ○The Ba Bridge is gone, the flowing water is soft and the jade shines back on the saddle. The forest outside and the mountain scenery at dusk are left, and Qin's servant girl is resentful. In the flute, at the end of the world, the silk clothes will return the dream lightly. On the slope of Langgan, the plum dust has not been washed away, and it is difficult to care for the lonely joy.
[Four Poems of Ruihexian]
Chechenluo Xinyu. There is Yaopu Qinzun, and the traces of the old nest are still there. The cold current Fengcheng is behind, and the west peak is half calyx, facing people. Good neighbors are accustomed to buying, so they share furniture and broken books. Cherishing the lingering fragrance, desolately entering the treasure bush, it is easy to become haggard while drinking. ○Don’t blame me. Hundred-year-old trees, empty mulberry trees for three nights, leisurely and generous, my house is full of love. Hidden in the ear, surrounded by thousands of people. You must be aware that you are a working bird. Three coins in the wind branch should not be used as a place for pilgrims. Tired and sad at dusk, I lean on the barren fence, with the thin vines facing me alone.
The spring shirt is stained with tears. Western geese arrive at the guest's pillow and leave their souls slightly. Old Weidu in the south of the city is as beautiful as the end of the world, and the flowers look like mist. Qin Zheng spreads his music, but he is afraid of wine and jade pillars stained by dust. Ask Ma Bo, Wanli Gubai, Du Juan, who knows the minister? ○Moonlight. Tonight, after all the changes, I recall the memories of Chang'an, the children of two families, tired of traveling in their remaining years. The wild reed is about as small as it can be. Don't look up when you go up to a tall building. Spring in the south of the Yangtze River is good, but the setting sun is the hardest. Across the green mountains, who cares if everything is fine? Go and live in the broken clouds.
It rains constantly. The west wind blows away again, and the wild geese leave the river. The lanterns are dim and the hall is empty. I am carelessly throwing away my books, and I am sparsely eating my wine cup. It's easy to be tired when I'm lonely, thinking about lovesickness, and the gray of spring is lingering. The material sinks into scales and does not send aromatic sound. Complaints enter the highest building. ○Need to read. The belt is wide and narrow, the camp quilt is cold and warm, the mirror has deep and shallow frown, and no one is watching. Who cares? Meng Yun is in chaos. Afraid of the curtains and candles hanging on the back, the jade hairpin knocking, and the tears in my eyes from the end of the world. If you count your youth, there will come a time when your age is getting late.
is filled with resentment. Staring into the mirror, I feel worried about my gray hair. Being homeless makes me sad to say goodbye. I am still in love with the new sound, and I am still in the past. Sit and read in the mulberry field, let the soft red and gray change the calamity. The rest of Xingge and Xishe stored manuscripts. Shi Ting hated his bones. ○No idea. I am tired of traveling in Chang'an, and I pay my respects to the cuckoo again. I am lost in my dreams, and I am crying in the snow in China. Thirty-year-old, broken heart. Afraid of climbing the stairs, my eyes will be red and have no ground, and the grass in the south of the Yangtze River will stop for a while. Relieve the sadness, the Huai River in my hometown, the moon is shining late at night.
[Eight Poems on the High Balcony]
The smoke from the floating trees is gone, the seals have faded, and the remaining cold is still the moss. There is not much meaning in the painting, and the beauty is usually buried in the dust. The setting sun means to pity each other, which means that the heart is worried and cannot tolerate gentleness. And sell him, with a cool toad on his forehead, to accompany the deep respect. ○Is the jade lady returning from Donglanbu? There is half a bundle of incense left in the bonfire, and the quilt is embroidered solitary and warm. According to the agreement, the sound of the eaves drips through the curtain until dusk. When the morning comes, the spring tide will turn away. Ask who it is and know the ice soul. Thank you for the east wind, don't look at the flowers, but worry about the roots.
Even the smoky smoke and the clear waves in the small mirror make up the West Lake in miniature. The language becomes like a bird, and the time is like a fine grass. It is clear that the red cotton road of Jade Pagoda is full of smiles but the guests are sparse. Too hasty, dragging the road to the end of the world, stacking drums in the corner of the city. ○A cup of pins and Luofubi account for the fresh wind and sun, the sky and the beard. There is the sound of cuckoos, and the morning glow is falling into the sky. Dancheng is not the same as Vimalakirti, I am afraid that the flowers will be scattered and the people will be more isolated than the mountains. Ironing returns to the soul, Xiaojie is full of flowers, leaving a verse like this.
The floating foil lights are down, and it is drizzling when I return to the building. The next year brings leisure and sorrow. The red pistils bid farewell to spring, and the east wind blows over the deserted ditch. The golden twins form a knot in the heart, but the dream is still lingering, and Yan Leng scratches his head. Leaning against the empty curtain, the bright mirror lingers, and the temples change into flowers and shame. ○The east wall sent Mr. Xianyang away lightly, fearing that in the next three years Chu Yu would fall ill. The waves are turbulent, and the white bird is gone and hard to stay. The flowers in the barrier are laughing and flying in the spring language, bearing old feelings and beautiful jade horns. Although it is cold and cold, there are many twists and turns, and it will be the festival of Qin Yu.
Cold jade and autumn clouds, decaying silk and dim willows, and alum heads are lightly painted on the forest hills. Xiyue was born late, and she looked down and could not see her sad face. Respect the sky and still love the earth. Accompanied by resentful insects, whispering in the wilderness. The most popular. I dream of floating lanterns alone, singing and throwing poles continuously. ○The partridges are singing about old things in the south of the Yangtze River, counting on Qiao Feng’s family background, and people are relaxing outside. In the thirty-year period of Wu Qi, He Tianchang occupied the high cold. In the chaotic night of the countryside, there are flying geese flying across the mountains. Near the west wind, when the sorrow is doubled, the poet will never return.
The red cold silk basin, the dry ink and colorful posts, who will remind you when the years are gone. Every inch of spring is covered with cold ashes. I just believe that the east wind is lazy tonight. Negative cold chants, residual drunken feelings. Ask Guan Shan. The plum blossoms in the flute have been blown open several times. ○The sound of the neighbor's drum is indistinguishable, and it wakes up the hazy pavilion and the residual dreams. The shadows of horses and the sound of chickens, the news from the horizon is still guessing. The empty hall is filled with ice and snow, fearing that it will be out of date and spring will not return.The most boring thing is to take Wu Shuang and drink deeply.
Short moss flying silk, long waves wrinkled, city curtains river willows competing for green. When you are drinking and drinking, you are still like a flag pavilion when buying spring. The colorful flags remember the flower's birthday, and the green windows reflect the mood of the children. All arrangements were made, the trusses were painted with Wu's strings, and the pavilions were made with Qin's zheng. ○The old man does not want to be cared for, but to mourn and get drunk for the rest of his life. There is no owner of the east wind, and the labor and complaints are silent. There are a few hazy clusters of snow on the east side of the mountain. This year, we can see the Qingming Festival again. Afraid of meeting again, She Yan returns and complains about Piao Ling.
Blowing the sword to drive away sorrow, waving a cup to persuade the shadows, the lake is full of warmth and tenderness. As soon as the waves are cleared, the guests come and take time to relax. The next year, I had a misty dream in the sky, next to the clear clock, I endured the news. The sleeves are scented with fragrance, carried to the empty hall, and the traces of poems are ironed. ○ Covering the door is not idle smoke and water, it is the most bitter to wash away the autumn heart, but also to support the spring. The small pavilion is brightly lit, and the lonely moon is looking for someone late at night. Holding a hibiscus flower in your hand, you can remember the success of your eyes. Then I followed you, held Huang Hua in my arms, and guarded my solitary root.
Medicine wraps up care, plum branches iron the eyes, and time changes the world. The harvest is blurred, and the red flowers are forgotten. Wind and rain often come together on the bed, and the cold chants and leisurely drunkenness disappear. Don't even mention it anymore. The rooster crows and the torch flies. ○The Ming Dynasty was a shocking seventy. The two old houses had a long credit in the Old Testament. Drunk and leaning on Tusu, I would rather know the liver and lungs. The fighting was full of sorrow and trouble, and he had no words for Alien. But because of Yi, the Beidou railing is staring at Beijing.
[Ten Slow Songs of Magnolia]
In the lush greenery of Yecheng Mountain, there are several shades and white gates. The walls are covered with flowers, which have been replaced easily, and the monuments are old and carved with moss. Far away. Dang Qingxi hates, there are vicissitudes of life, still makes the soul ecstasy. Jiang Hong is still in his eyes, and cranes are flying in the sky. ○ Rock pepper, the Zen words are desolate, and there are no sentences to express the immortality. Counting the merits of resisting sparseness, dividing notes and companions, one case is fluttering. Tonight, I am sober and the moon is setting, I am afraid that the west wind will blow the snow on my hair. Roll up a letter of green ink, and pay all the sadness to the Southern Dynasty.
asked Donglan Shouxue, if it still disappears, when will it be Qingming? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown where it belongs, the moss is greener and the flowers are upside down. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○In many lives, there will be guests who cherish the fragrance alliance and worry about the inscriptions of acne flowers. Despite all the tides and winds, the Japanese were forced to fall, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
Give Minghu a song to recognize the trees, the year of Zhongxing. Count the small team on the outskirts, the barrier of the Central Plains, and have nothing to do. Decaying fence. At the old singing place, I asked Yueming and Yuanhe when they would return. The dream of the battleship is broken by the east wind, and the makeup of the dowry is cold. ○Unprovoked, the gold and greenery embrace the sandalwood music, abruptly interrupting this lake and mountain. Think of Wu Feng and stand on horseback, lotus flowers and osmanthus seeds, stop singing in the fields. In Yanyuan, I didn’t buy a fishing rod because I was afraid that fishes, dragons and wind would disturb the gulls’ sleep. Drunk and wiping away the remaining tears in the West City, the shadow of the faded Yang on the temples is still there.
Behind closed doors, spring has not yet awakened, and the warblers are singing again, reporting the fragrant season. In the lonely mood, the crisp flowers are shadows, and the honey torch sings newly. Peep. The frost on the mirror's hair is wisps on the temples, and I bear the burden on my neighbors and present them with ancient plum branches. Lao He wrote a letter through the maple window, waiting for the moss and bamboos to be lost in despair. ○At the end of the world, my sick pillow has not returned yet, and I wake up at dawn. Laughing at Dongfeng’s homeland, red and green, all are deceived by sorrow. Fragmentation, tired writing every year, one year's worth of fragrance is too much to mention. The steps in the middle garden are waiting for care, and the curtains are small and wet in spring.
Listening to Ku Tong's words, I know your hatred, ten years later. There are many tears and flowers, and I am lost in Yan Lao. Spring has been gone for a long time. Destroy each other. Menghua's hometown, strangely dressed in single clothes, with no way to escape the dust. Jin Se looked at Cheng, who was drunk for a while, with his head turned gray and his eyes lowered. ○ If the difference is bad, Jinguan willow will become silk, and Li Xufei will be banned. Asking how to spend time, the smell of officialdom in the setting sun, the passing of time in the heart? The barbarians, the old crazy and rational, have fallen into the Yin River and the cuckoos are singing outside. Don't go up to Wu Tai and look north, the slanting smoke and chaotic water are depressing.
Lianghua dew falls in the evening, light autumn is here, and the water is west of the fence. Looking at the clear waves on the temples, sparse people and green walls, I am used to being lonely. More disabled. Sleeping late and sick, there are mourning crickets and diyans in front of me. The anxiety of being alone is getting worse, and old friends are paying new bills to Wu Jian. ○Unexpectedly, painting a fan of green mountains invites dreams to fade away. The traces of Nai Qiuhong are easy to catch, but it is difficult to climb Jinliu. When I am sad, I take care of myself with the light behind my back. I cannot tolerate the sound of rain in my middle age. Don't forget that it's late in Cangjiang, and the dust can't reach the gull's side.
Ma Cheng was in trouble, but with tears in her eyes, she asked Xiling. Believe that there are beautiful lakes and mountains, but boring bottles and bowls, and tired eyes cannot be green. wandering. Shuilou's writing requires a boat and a series of feelings in his later years. Just before leaving the tomb, the old man is really riding a whale. ○ Yao Qiong, I asked Xuanting where to go, but the nine debates were in vain. Calculate the floating and disappearing, resist the sparseness of fame and fortune, and pass on the sutras of thoughts. In the dark, whispers are whispered on the night stage, and the wind blows in the throat and the flute is silent. Tears in the eyes and dust in the paper are ignored. Who can share his life in the auditorium?
Washing Meghan off her face, changing years, with the sound of rain.Look at the flowers in the honey torch, the silk dish is more beautiful, and the curtain is more fragrant. Loudong. The crows haven't risen yet, the singing dust is dark, and the curtains are still trembling. The chants and the jade paper are mixed together, and I am still wandering around Jinqi. ○Happy. Half-cold green dragon. Buy Wu Peng for trouble. The smiling yellow tangerine has not been broken yet, the make-up is washed clean, and the east wind is used to the humidity. When we meet again, behind the mirror screen and in the dream, I ask when the sleeves of the palace will turn red in the cold weather. The flowing clouds are moving with both hands, and the old love is annoying Qiong Zhong.
Next to the osmanthus trees in Canglang, written with sincerity, this chapter is about a small mountain. Laughing at the lotus clothes made by Chu, why is Wu enjoying the festival? Feixian. Suyun is in the place, and the hands (left and right) and south bucket are scattered in the world. There is no need to be attracted by the flowing clouds, but the beauty remains in the mirror. ○Youzen. Cooking tea and cigarettes on the couch, hair on hair from a few years ago. Cherish this meaning, the worries sink into the land, and the lonely dreams climb to the sky. On the side of the gull, keep the stability in the later period, and manage the double fiber to pass the wild gull. If you are better than me, I will look for you. There should be someone outside the world.
I asked about the thin snow in Donglan. It is still gone. How about Qingming Festival? It's the demolition of the embroidered pavilion, the swallows' feathers are missing, and the doves are singing. Golden bell. Unknown attack point, more green moss, upside down and borrowed red flowers. The mood of seeking fragrance is forbidden, and the mood of drinking wine is mixed. ○Many births. Visitors cherish Xiangmeng. The flower inscription of "Chou". Gradually, all the winds were exhausted, and the Japanese were forced to support them, but they still endured their loneliness. It's cloudy and sunny, and it's uncertain whether spring will come. I'm afraid it will end in silence. In the dream, Du Yu was urged to return home, but the carriage was not flattering.
[Five Poems of Manjianghong]
If you don’t believe in the immortal poet, to this day, there is no place to bury your sorrow. Carrying it in your hand, you can keep the four seals of health, and you can sleep alone in Huangge. It's so dirty that I've been rewarded by the dust, and I haven't changed to a leisurely life. If you are about to leave, why would you care if you go through the tomb? Chang'an City. ○Literal impairment and difficulty with vertebrae. Distribution and distribution, water flowing eastward. It's not as good as cooking Shanhu. Who is my friend at the end of my stay? I will end up playing in seclusion. Asking about the sacred mountain, the wind often leads the boat back to the boat, so what's going on?
put his staff down and asked who it was, Gao Xia Zhenyi. Outside the dust, there are sleeve handles on floating hills and shoulders on Hongya cliffs. Paper tubes from across the county are delivered every day, and clouds emerge from the mountain barrier. The letter liver and intestines are like two poets in the snow, sharing the same breath. ○ Xunyang Guo, incense burner color. Remember once hanging, west wind seat. In an old life, all I owe is the pair of clogs. Whoever is born in a boat will be a pure companion; when he enters the mountain, he will be a stranger the next day. The rest of the year is cold, the wind and snow dream of Kuangjun, and the short position is white.
The gate faces Qingshan and is called Jiuyin and Donggao Pavilion. There are waves of red peach blossoms and plum blossoms on the shore. A small building is the best place to hide the case, and the Oubo coupon has not been settled for ten years. Asked when, the effect of the essay is hidden, and the gentleman is lazy. ○My chest is lumpy and I feel sad and sleepy. After grinding and grinding, there are thousands of volumes of books. Repairing the rafters with laughter, sending sea swallows in the air every year. A long-term strategy is not like drinking from the river, short songs are like resting and Nanshan gangue. I like to go to the class, but I don't take it easy when I am young. I am late in Cangjiang.
The ancients are accumulated and the sky is empty. Who can ask, it is auspicious and golden auspicious weapon. The charm is right, it is judged to be suspended and half blocked, and the earth flowers are condensed. Sanshou Xisi's Ode to Work, a new interpretation of Chinese characters. Accompanying the ship, Mi's boat floats on the Cangjiang River under the rainbow moon. ○Good at writing and good at writing, but secretly. The past is vague, and the golden legend is written down. When asked about sinking, how long will Jiuding people be free? Small buildings all contain the beauty of mountains and rivers, and new poems must have the aura of clouds and thunder. It was late at night, and when I came back from Changle's dream, I burst into tears.
There is no shade in the big tree, it is not like the clouds, and there are many fragrant carvings resting. Facing each other, the wind and rain of spiritual flags are fierce today. The ancient heart is as solid as iron stone, no one can plant it with time. On the branches facing south, there should be old cuckoos singing, which is very sad. ○Treacherous juniper is cast, and injustice is settled. The Orchid is destroyed, and Qiu Qiu is destroyed. Ask Qiao Ke, how often do you see Jin Ou round and missing? The red bird must be weeping in the air, and the green moss may be stained with Chang Hong's blood. The mountains are empty, jade bones are cold and holly green, and the mausoleum is sad.
[Four Songs of Huanxi Sha]
In the song, the soul of spring cannot be summoned, the rain is coming from the flute on the Hengtang, and the wet smoke is cold on the west bridge of Liuyi. ○One water will wipe out the old covenant, and the chaotic peaks will be like smiles and manage the new beauty. This year, I will be free to stop the wooden railings.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like ocher and water is like paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the clouds are returned when the bun on the window mountain is lifted; the place where I walk alone is not desolate and cold.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
[Nanpu]
Nanpu Yu pattern is born, it is the night, the rain marks are dyed by the new daisy. A warm and warm green, the road to the end of the world, Jiang Lang's secret soul is everywhere. It hurts the spring deliberately, the old love is shy and the learning is shallow. The brocade scales are about to be sent, but if there is no good dream, the heart will be broken, and the flowers will flow eastwards. ○We gathered together several times to see the riverbanks, and we watched the Mandarin ducks and swallows stay in the Qiang. The most miserable person is wearing a gauze, crying and making up, but there are thousands of teardrops. Tongci is slightly supportive, and Jinglan is gone. What's the matter with the little wind? The furrowed brows remain the same, and the boat is far away.
[Cuilouyin]
The beads are covered with clouds, Qiongtai is decorated with pink, and the east wind is full of reds. The years are changing with surprise and darkness, and the corners of the curtain are filled with fragrance. Tassel spring bottom. There are tired feathers nestling in and crowing, and idle bees staying asleep. Whoever cooks and smokes at night will look more haggard than anyone else. ○It seems to be remembered. Jialu Qinzun, who is familiar with Yu Panhanbi, has learned a strange calligraphy. There are several round clusters of light shade, still adorning the flowers in the east. The plains are desolate, clouds are scattered, and the wind is blowing. Excuse me for being drunk, Xu Lang. Today, the paper is filled with chaos and sorrow.
[Three Songs of Danfeng]
The garden is like embroidery, the rain wets the red flags, and the dust floats in the fragrant pavilion. The dusk is independent, and the curtain of spring is still beautiful. They are clearly a handsome couple, but in an instant they are arrogant. The alliance between the mirror and the phoenix is cold, and the clothes and makeup are thin. The green bird is sending messages, and the silver hook is carefully recognized, and the tears are flowing through the corners of the paper. ○ From now on, don’t worry about your intestines. When you remove your soul, you will always be afraid of the evil waves. The night is dark and the sky is cold, all the lead is washed away, and the eyebrows are green. The old love has already faded away without being told. Red candles and jade hairpins are easy to break, but regrets can be grasped again. In Ying'e's dream, Zhi Shi was thinking about it.
Sitting in a secluded room with a bed, a spring window with grass, and a bright candlelight. The pearl ship arrives, and the beetle dust is lightly unrolled. In Yuanhe's era, Yixi's titles were everywhere, and there were bookstores everywhere, which could eliminate the mausoleum valley. Passing by, the clouds and smoke spread across the province, arousing the Ci Immortal, and a smile accompanied the loneliness. ○According to the music flute, the world changes, the old apple is broken, the green is desolate and the fragrance is left. The creeping grass is full of wind, and the very fragrant pepper is sparse with rain, so that everything can continue. There is a touch of cold green of Benfeng beside the ancient and modern. Seeing off Feihong at night, I lean on the railing in despair. Ancient Yun hides, treasures the blessing of words.
Jun admires the plump frost flowers, and the rhyme is like a solitary string, like a book guest in autumn. Orchid and Tsuen are full of flowers, so it should be called the southern country of love. The song changes the temples, the old man's thoughts wander and ask, the orioles spend time in adversity, and the radish flowers attract people. In the sentence about leisurely life, I can't bear to hurt the spring, but when the spring is gone, I will leave tears stained with my guess. ○I send you to look at the end of the world in despair, the dusk clouds suddenly merge into endless blue. The sleeves are full of jade flowers, the rooster crows in the wind and rain, and the heart is full of pity. The Cangzhou period is here, and the setting moon shines on the beams. The king of creeping grass has a sense of life experience, and he bows his head white. When will I hold my arm and meet the dream of the river?
[Mysterious Yin]
Who and Soul-Calling Xianggao Road. Peilan Yingzhu is scattered. The horses and horses are raised in the old place where the squatters were killed. I miss you, but I am suspicious of you and have no chance to meet you. The meaning of the old words in the hanging garden is sad and sad. The feeling of spiritual practice day and night is so helpless. ○ Borrow the fragrance of Hui Yao, spin it and inject it with pepper pulp. The spring is pouring out again, and the fragrant clouds are spitting out. White neon baby fu, ancient and modern hatred, temporary complaints. Looking at the repair door, I wake up alone, but I stand still. The river is dark and the night is miserable. The soul is back, the wind and rain are blowing.
[Eleven Poems of Niannujiao]
When I wake up from a dream of picking incense, I am a person from Shejiang River, not a singing couple in my youth. The mandarin ducks in the escort team are looking at each other, and there are countless flowers in a mess. There is a lot of wind in Jinxu, and the Zhufang is very cool, and it rains continuously. There is so much hatred in the south of the Yangtze River, so the old immortal will stop singing sad lines. ○In the evening, there is a fight across the bank, and the new songs of the field are broken, and the sound of the flute is sent away. One scene makes people famous, who cares? It is miserable to enter the mist of the flute boat. Luo Shan is cold, Zhu Lan is haggard and tired, so he has to move to another house. The remaining cicadas are rogue, and the setting sun has cut off their return path.
The green pines and the cold sun are so unforgettable that the ruthless spring beauty cannot be removed. Strength and scenery, wherever they circulate, are still clear and cold. On the garrison drum tower platform, the Buddha's fragrance is dusty, and the orioles are recognized for the first time in three or two. The sound of the piano is broken, and the heartbroken flowers are left outside. ○At the end of the day, who is calling for the souls? The ghosts of Xuluo Mountain mourn and chant in the sky. All of them are Zhenyuan, and they are grateful to the court officials. It is a pity that the white heads are gone together. It's cold in the old days, and the new pavilion sheds tears at sunset, filling the mountains with sun flutes. What happened to the vicissitudes of life? The smoke and chime in the forest are silent for the first time.
reveals that the scholar is old and has a good pool and a common painting meaning wandering. The jasper passes through Tianjin, and tourists dream of passing by, sharing the rain-heated cigarette holders. After writing thousands of lyrics and sharpening the sword for ten years, I am determined to return to farming. Will the small building be added? The white head is still firmly in place. ○Rare two pictures of Goose River, a boat with a rainbow coming under the moon, drinking in a piping tube. Sitting and recalling peace, drinking wine and chanting things, showing the clear curtain to the cool hall. The Lingbao kitchen is empty, the Fengcheng sword is combined here, and the Qiu Valley in the middle is in the middle. Qian Lang's sentence is good, so you must fill in the corners of the paper.
Qiao Fengxi Pavilion has Wu Ou and separate seats for leisure and fun. Extinguish the candle and bring it with you, under the cool moonlight, to deal with the tea melon love words. After playing the flute, the queen returns, the curtain is opened and the fireflies come in. A fan of wind is priceless. The rare stars appear and appear, and the thin clouds are picturesque. ○Forget about the autumn season in the sky, the red walls and green walls are hidden, and the wheel is hidden. Regardless of my merits and demerits, I will do my best to win a cool night. The leisurely feelings of the needles, the beautiful dreams of the old flowers, and the careless description. Gao Wu shakes the dew, and fairy feathers come down from the distant sky.
Half of the bed is still covered with snow, there are idle gulls, and a couple who is surprised to discuss the spring. The wild plum blossoms are still blooming in the cold weather, but the fragrance of valerian leaves is countless. The winding bank has continuous radials, the short pavilion is full of wine, and the wind and rain are busy and leisurely. The sky is full of smoke, and I look through the window at dawn to read the title sentence. ○In the morning and evening, the dust in front of Huangge, the green and old promises of dreams, go with the wild waves. Swallowing the Tiger Mountain, the flute beside the bridge also plays incense at the other side of the lake.The qiongrui is climbing again, the green birds are like calling, and the old pair (left mountain and right wave) live. The light clouds are boundless, and the falling red rests on the sail road.
originated from Shu studies. I asked Lu Jin who asked the old man from Heshan. There are huge collections of wines, carved by Tianshui, and the treasures in the art garden exceed the beauty of Qiongjiu. Three baskets of clouds are lost, one basket is allowed to be borrowed, and the good tree is worthless. Yuanting oil element dyes the shirt sleeves with antique fragrance. ○The seventeen posthumous chapters of the past events are divided into three main points, and they have been written and circulated for a long time. It is said that it is like a fragrant pepper, scheduled for daily classes, and gathered ginger sprouts for generations. Jin Xie holds the book, Yaohua deputy Mo Cao, and the coupon is famous for Shanshou. The sun rises when the sun rises, and Zong Shou falls during the passing period.
Even in old age, we are still the same flesh and blood, fighting to control life. Children are created by nature, teased in vain, and find their home as time goes by. The old floor has three rafters, two hectares of fertile farmland, and the Qing Xiangqu lies high. Weaving cunts in the deserted bay, old immortals come to accompany you alone. ○Who said that tired feathers are nesting in their nests, the dust is startling and the sea is mourning, and Ying's songs continue. Difficulties arise in all directions, but they are all the same, and the pine and chrysanthemums in the countryside are cut off. The green mountains of my homeland, the white hair of Cangzhou, and the dendrobium trees in my dreams. In what year, I was afraid of the base, so I cherished my best wishes.
Good doctor and good appearance, remember the country's sages, and the famous theory will be related to each other for thousands of years. The whole body of benevolence and art is all virtue, and it depends on the harmony of the family. There are red apricot trees, white flowers and calyxes, and spring jade. After three words of kindness, Zeng Xiaoqin was exposed in the pond. ○The couple has a flat head of seventy years old, surrounded by Guifang, kneeling on the platform and offering blessings. He was talented in the Tang Dynasty, promoted the Yuji season, and composed the song of Henan Fei. Thousands of joys, brocade flowers clustered in clusters, plans to add houses. With two supporting dove sticks, the small garden is filled with fresh green in spring.
In the flat root palace, I feel regretful about the ancient dust and the things that have been broken for three thousand years. The trees are covered with smoke, the new paintings are in the book, and the rock walls of Qinqi are covered with green. The crane is gone and the cloud is alone, the Qiu is flying to the cold moon, and the snow is shining on Wu Zhen. What a heroic figure Dongyang Dabi is. ○In order to ask about the world, Qian You, pondering around the tree, who dares to be the first. If you want to see the clothes, Pan Bian wins, but Ke Qianzhi becomes extinct. The past and present are romantic, what is the literary talent of painting, and there is no trace of sudden disputes. Familiar with the theory of painting, I trust you with eyes like the moon.
Bai because of the cold society, the gloomy branches and the knotted cliffs are still in the past dream. The earth is thick and the sky is high, there is no place to stay, so I come to make offerings in the leisure hall. The frosty appearance of Otani, the jewelry of Hiraizumi, the great quality of Liangdong. Du Ling sighed, it has been very difficult to use since ancient times. ○Cherish the separation of this old man. The roots are close to each other, just like the phoenix nesting in the nest. In the fourth year of Ke Ye's reign, he never changed and asked for the emperor's favor. Five grains of pine and beetles, twins of Meg's age, we share the late cold, the whole hall is full of color, and there is a pen in Heyang.
Rui Shulang Jian, tracing the high ground, excellence and winning Liu. Four episodes of Feihong are not enough to count. The Art Garden alone has won the true award. The tripod has feet and a chi plate, the hairpin head and the phoenix stand, and the wonderful traces are imitated by ice. Every pearl, every word, will enter the net of pearls. ○On that day, I paid a visit to Jin Gaoqi, and wrote a detailed appraisal of the iron book, and distinguished all the traps and elephants in the sky. The ancient river is idle, but seeking truth is nothing like a romantic and grand prize. Illuminating the eyes with sesame seeds and mud, I am startled by the writings in the sea, everything is intact, the sound of pine trees and the moonlight are especially bright and clear for you.
[Four Songs of Huanjing Music]
The cicadas are in a mess, and it is reasonable to feel sad at night like a careless hair. Sitting under the lamp window without wine, but I feel that I am separated from the courtyard and singing songs is wasted. Look across the vast sky. The mirror in the west building is about Yuxiang. Awakening from old dreams, scraps and drips, Jiangnan’s remaining tears. ○ Remember the bottom of Pingshan Mountain. There are double photos of flowers, and the orchids are leaning against each other for a while, the smell of farewell. Even if the end of the world says the date of return, he will always be alone with his beautiful face and peach plums. I feel sad every year, I still use my wings to peek into the curtain, the cool fireflies are in the water. Even in the belly of Pisces, Jiang Bo does not care about melancholy.
Sai Hong is close, deliberately snuggling in the sand to spend the moon and make the sound of autumn. At dusk, I feel heavy with sadness. I spin my iron horse and feel sad and choked on the eaves. Sitting alone with tears splashing, the shadows of candles and candlesticks stand on the back of the mountain. Tiredness and sleep diminish, complaints arise in the distant night, and the clothes are new and cold. ○Listen to the pot lotus. In the remaining paintings of Meng Cangbo, the formation of wind crows is as black as dust, and their wings are not straightened. The sound of horns drawn in the rivers and lakes echoed in secret, the cool rain and mist were dim. It makes me sad because there are few people playing the flute and I wake up with the sunset. Pulse and pulse peek into the hair, clear frost flies onto the bright mirror.
The soul-breaking thing can make me feel melancholy when I am tired of writing and writing. The temples are ashamed of the dust mirror, the wax torch is gray with tears, who plays the flute and sings. On the Echi Pond, there are long strips with moon and smoke. Qian's plain hands help the drunk to call for help, and the soft waves of the oars. ○Stand and look at the tall building. There are wild flowers on the road, flying orioles have no hesitation to sing, and the grass is long. The east wind changes to the green forest pavilion, dark pear clouds and dreams come and go. Fei pining is the sound of the rain strings and the bright clouds. The moon is full of resentment in the west, peeking into the weeping tent of last night.
Tired of embracing, reading through the setting sun and looking for microwave words. Let the incense fall and the swallows fall in love, and the red horse step on the horse, and there is no basis for keeping silent. Asking about flowers in Jiangdu makes you shed tears in the spring and rain. With all kinds of emotions, singing at night will make you drunk at dawn, and your fragrance will be perfect. ○Old ecstasy. There are thousands of treasures around, but now the pen is full of dust, and the strings are bitter. I pondered and patted the railings, wandering in the clouds and thinking like this. Sitting in Cangzhou, you can earn a lot of money and travel with articles. Autumn is bleak in the middle of the year, but Lan Cheng has a rich life experience.
[Fengchiyin]
Buqiu Qiongfei, in the old Lingbo place, the valerian shadow is shallow and the text is rippled. Remember that the beautiful woman chewed it at night, moisturizing the scented kiss, cooling and softening the skin. Enjoy the wisdom, the small Ou round mirror is the time of year. The east wind relieves the enemy, and the orchid boat urges the ship to sail, and there is no plan to stay in Iraq. ○The joy and despair are getting colder than water. I take advantage of the window to dry my inkstone and write to express my love. The material is pouring by the Zhi River, the green scales are just coming up, and the brocade characters are still late. A film of spring sorrow, broken red and flowing tears. It has not been removed, but the heart is dizzy and the jade saliva is silky.
[Three Poems of Bu Suanzi]
Cuiyu cries to her heart's content, who can be jealous of Qianxiu. The floating dusk is dark and fragrant, and the toad is not allowed to spend it. ○Wu Yuanyu's twin bodies fly along Yaotai Road. Let me ask the old painter from Qiantang who is the flute player.
Whoever earns the little red will let go of the poplar branches. Qingxiaoqiangdong is always unknown, what a waste of words. ○I know how to be carefree, regardless of wind or rain. It's like a golden fairy with empty hands and eyes dancing in the sky.
Thousand pieces of Wu flowers, followed by Ye Ying's words. When I sleep, there is a flicker of smoke in the bright window, and in my dream, there is the sound of rain in the corridor. ○When I am worried and leaning on the railing, I sing to the couple who are sitting at the wine table. I regret that I look back and forth, my eyes wet with tears.
[No. 1 in Dizhou]
The dust is light and dusty, the dust is messy, and the eyebrows are small when the banquet is held. The dense threads are connected, the clear words are covered with fans, and the Qin sky is misty and misty. There is a dark moon on the fan horse screen, peeking at people and taking photos secretly. The deep alliance between the jade beams and the shallow throwing of money will make you grow old happily. ○89 Jingwu Yishushao. Definitely lose and control the female's song. The curtain of love is new, the dream of pearl fields is far away, and they suddenly return to the embrace of sorrow. Before messing with the flowers, I shed tears. I stopped at the cup and looked at each other with a smile. Whoever beats the mandarin ducks, the brocade pond is empty and sleeps alone until dawn.
[Three Songs of Clouds Crossing the River]
Xin Hanluo was awakened, the curtains were covered with heavy rain, and a wild goose fell into the round sand. Waking up from the dream and saying goodbye to each other in tears, the petrels are nesting deep in the sky, jealously entering Mochou's home. The mirror is filled with red cries, and I quietly cherish my beauty. Thousands of silk threads, white willows, are not called Tibetan crows. ○ Sighing in the sky, a solitary flying bluebird leads the Yellow Cong, and the wave falls eastward. I gazed at Penglai in the dark dust and the autumn owl wearing yarn. Going back to the river to complain about the south of the Yangtze River, breaking the dark frost in the Cangjia. I was so melancholy that I asked about the flowers when I returned.
The river breeze is lingering on the night of wine, and the soft tide is half-falling, carrying dreams around the sails. When the lights are off, the spring is still shallow, the spring flowers are splashing with tears, and it is cold about the northern plum blossoms. After jumping up and down, we gradually came to appreciate the desolate and snowy south of the Yangtze River. The chanting is low, who is the white-headed couple? There is a decadent toad sitting in the photo. ○Essential, poems and poems written in times of mourning, sent to Lao Guanhe, stirring up all kinds of emotions. Hugh Geng will then fence the smoke willows, how can he pay for them. In the Ming Dynasty, Qinhuai's green temples were illuminated, and I was afraid of the rain, dim wind, and melancholy. The words on the wrong road made the blue shirt wet when we met again.
The spring clothes are noisy and plain, leaning against the building with tired eyelashes, and the wild geese are heading south. The flowers in the old Beijing are less busy, there is no reason to go and live, and I sit and read the willow green. It urges people to complain, and cries until the moon is behind them until there is no sound. Where to find it? Baitou Cuisine, a reunion of love after a new year. ○The condensation disappears, the stove smoke is attached, the medicine lingers, and the separation is uncertain. Hun has not forgotten the boat in Yanqiu Lake, talking about the rain on the bed. When our hearts and souls grow old, we must stay together, and we will spend our whole life enjoying the cold wine. Singing and looking forward to the pain, we will cherish our loneliness together in the end.
[Eighteen Poems of Huanxi Shazai]
The orang-colored screen is different from the twelve mountains, and there are two sad Luan in the mirror. Turn off the lights and wait for the dream to return. ○The pillow is covered with fragrant flowers, and the bed is filled with the gurgling autumn waves of jade. Xin Liang can't get enough of Lang Bian.
The tea has passed and the orchid has not yet been refined. The butterflies are worried and the bees are laughing for no reason. Someone else has just finished fixing the fence. ○ There are tears in the towel when I sing the Qing Dynasty, and I am frightened by the spring short sleeves. I had known that it would be difficult to save Fangjie.
Whoever sets up a field to try out the horseshoe, the Chunli team will temporarily support him. Wild smoke fans on Hengzhigang Road. ○The love in the West Sea adds to the leakage forever, but the East Wind is unable to manage everything. When we meet, we sing the white bronze song.
Drinking every day is nothing but raising a glass, smiling happily to wake up the heart. What's the matter with fan Chen and light clothes? ○Otherwise, the clouds and mountains hate to enter the painting, and the ducks and ducks walking together gradually become inorganic. Stepping in the wind is the true return.
Wearing wine and a single shirt, wearing a pair of glasses, Wu Bo has been full of hatred for ten years. When autumn comes, it is easy to sing a sad song when you are alone. ○The lyrics are thin when the moon is full of people, and there are many tearpipes at Jiangguan Pass. Han Ling was speechless and helpless.
The writing style is based on the slight flow of powder, and the book readers in the world are bitterly chanting the autumn. The small note conveys hatred and makeup. ○The moon shines brightly on the new mirror, and the lanterns look like ancient hairpins. Fu Ding is old and has to change his job.
A single bird rushes into the waves to leave, and the bad clouds are like water and paper. For whom I write endlessly about Jiang Tian. ○The wind strings of the boat are playing on the moon, and the bun on the mountain window is holding back the clouds. The land is not deserted and cold when I travel alone.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow will always be unknown. Who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal to me.
Dreaming about the fourteenth journey of the Yanjiang River, the silk embankments and willows on the temples are full of flowers, and the fragrance of the year is ruthless with the water. ○ When the wine falls, the plum blossoms in the east wind will swirl, the sails will be greeted by fine swift swallows, and the sorrow of spring will naturally arise in writing.
explains that sadness is just a small frown, and it is clear that resentment is in the song, and there are original Ruizhu people in the world. ○ The wonderful dance bends down and turns over the brocade on the ground. She whispers and sheds tears to Liang Chen. The clothes are full of clouds from the old mountains.
Smallpox may not reach me. It is a song that occupies someone's arms, and the red and green curtains wander around. ○ Turn over the sacred interpretation of Jie Ku Zen, mourn the time and make the poet shed tears, it doesn’t matter about Chu Taiyun in the dream.
The east wind is bitter and cloudy all night long, but the transparent curtain is nestled in the quilt, and the sick body is no longer invaded by wine. ○The strong reputation of anti-drugs is getting better today, the exploration of fragrance is getting lighter and the last year's heart is getting lighter, the moonlight people's thoughts are sinking in the rain.
Autumn is coming again. In ten years, the city is half covered with wormwood, and the eyes are wide open. ○ When the bones are out, it feels like a jade in the mountains. When the waist is bent, it is like dancing on the willow poles. Di flowers throw snow and dot the cup.
Why does the stream also have the surname Xi? It is more suitable to wear light makeup and heavy makeup. There are several piles of mangroves weighing down the reeds. ○The good years require wine, but the decadent style and gull period mean that although the West Lake is good, there is no need to mention it.
A team of maidens guides the oars, recruiting and extracting flowers and flowers every time, and a niche is filled with incense and thatched cottage. ○ Tai Xisheng’s family has no record. Since I am a Buddhist monk, I am here to serve as a package monk.
The dragon elephant is sold and sinks several pestle bells, the heavens have no way to ask the green peak, the solemn wheel and the painter. ○The desolate sky and water are still green, the ashes of calamity and birth and death are pitifully red, and the fragrance of flowers spreads everywhere.
Strider picked fresh slices of jade words, spring waves melted and released the pond, prolonging the life of the beautiful people. ○The good prophecy is that the turtle in the old stream looks to the left, the crane in the new song of longevity flies south, and the mandarin ducks are in a good mood.
The red cliffs of Cuifu welcome you across the bank. The feeling of blocking the wind is temporary, and the official candles in the water window shed tears. ○If there is a meeting of the new Zen joy, the sudden rise of wine and sorrow is always unknown, who will the lonely moon of Changchuan reveal it to?
[Nearly seven good things]
The short hair is gradually fading, and the bully is weak. The power and scenery are flowing, but there is no news about yellow flowers. ○ Walking around the pond is timid because of the late cold, and it is forbidden to drink a small amount of wine. The Cangshan Mountains are speechless. Whose autumn colors are there?
Sleeping in the rain and mangling in autumn, I once went to the forest for hunting. Who begs for the clear dew from the golden stem, which heals the heart of the piano and quenches thirst. ○We have mourned each other for several generations, and the servant girls in high-rise buildings are extremely sad. Being willing to accompany a group of barbarians is better than having two clear pagodas.
Lake Qi Yu Yi Jin, step into Baofang Linyue. I can endure the coldness of the mountain pavilion and the spring, and my heart and intestines are like snow. ○Ten miles out of the mountain, how long does it take to hear the sound of crickets? It is safe and secure everywhere, and it is adjacent to Zhongfa in the south.
The immortal of Guanghan is left behind, and a toad household is opened in the fragrant world. A case of Hengsha's calamity change is more ancient than the moon. ○The body is not hindered by the yellow cloth, the ground is broken by the sky cloth, the eaves are covered with all the money, and the basket is used for the dragon and the catty ax.
Koujiaofa sings loudly, who reads Taoism at the same time. Don't make crazy plans to envy the fish, treat the stream as bright as jade. ○The rivers and lakes are still full of people who have not returned, and the dead sheep laugh at the valley. In the morning and evening, I go to the foot of Xinjiang Mountain to buy spring raincoats and yellow calves.
The candle flowers in the floating mat are cool, and the wind is blowing in the water outside the fence. After the flute was over, he was suddenly urged to go back, feeling a great deal of pity. ○I remember Xu Yunying a hundred times, and I can cook it straight. There is no such thing as a banquet, because the red goose will not be eaten.
is at ease in the ice, and the pen is like a dragon. In the Golden Butterfly Pavilion, there is a crazy uncle from the Chen family. ○In the past twenty years, I have been full of talents, and my dragon-carving hand has shrunk. If this matter comes to an end, we will go to Lugo to pursue him.
[Twenty-eight poems with subtracted characters of Magnolia Flower]
There is no solution to the worries, the bottom line is that the wine debts last year after year. I don’t know how deep my sorrow is, but my heart is on the silver screen every night in my dreams. ○The sky is full of frost, and I can see the autumn mountains shaking away. If you want to return to the boat, you will ride Feihong to visit Jiuzhou.
has a good conversation, but only asks for wine from a silver bottle. The arms are wrapped around the waist, and the body is in a state of extreme health. ○When the dim light illuminates the scene, why do ghosts and monsters need to ask about their shadows frequently? Who is right and who is wrong will never return without leaving the green hills.
The Huai River flows like Dai, and Wu Pengyun carries it all in June. The clothes were hurriedly untied, and the fire of war was shining across the sky to the east of the sea. ○An official is dying, so I wrote seven pages of letters to him. Fengyi was ashamed of Fan Juqing in Shanyang throughout his life.
shed the rules of your sentences, and pass through the alleys from poor days to dusk. On the frosty moon, I walked up to Fanlou to sell a restaurant. ○Wandering in the bamboo forest, write down the eight-point move Amai. After the dawn, the star is lonely, leaving no inkstone to be passed down to the family.
With a green beard and a tree-like chin, I have been a quiet man for thirty years. The rest is in Jingguan, and the mountains are slovenly with thick clouds and sneers. ○The desolate pavilion is picking up leaves, and just a few strokes of pen are asking for rice stickers. Instead of going back to sail, it ended up being a fate of porridge and rice in Beijing.
The diseased bones are separated, and one sacrifice can lead to liberation. The broken temple returns and the soul returns every night. Ji Mu's move. ○Moss flowers and couches, life candles discuss the heart and always see the postscript. Where to dip your towel and fight with wine at Beiguo Gate of Qingshan Mountain? Do you know about
Mengou? He is a fisherman in rivers and lakes. I don’t dream of Huangliang, I am lying in bed with the autumn waves rolling over the ground. ○Suspicious things happened in the Chu Palace, and the sky and the earth were filled with tears of snow. Who ordered Wu Yang? He was sent to the wilderness at midnight.
Penglai was relegated, and whoever brought him back would return to his official post. I was so sad that I was surprised to see the huge gully boat hidden in the sky. ○ It’s not your intention to look at each other as a ghost and to correct your worries.The spiritual principles are endless, and the sixteen views are recorded while sitting high.
Traveling in the sea, watching the flying geese rising. The west wind blows from the sick bone, and a night of frost destroys the mirror. ○How can one redeem one's body? I am tired of crying for three days. The grass in the pond has dried up in spring, and there are no dreams in the west hall after all the tears.
The sword tip cries slightly, and the sea water stabs the sky and floats with blood. In the courtyard of the miserable moon, who can understand Zhang Xian and accept Guangling? ○In a corner of Fuchun, scattered rock flowers and red birds peck at them. Where does the white head go? In the mountains, no one asks what is right or wrong.
The ruthless Xiangshui River is shaking in the autumn colors. The cold moon returns to the radius, relying on the Qingqin music score to make a big move. ○The righteousness of life makes Jiang Han cry with sorrow. There is snow on the temples and frosty beard, and the chest first closes up to Mount Huashan.
Golden Taigu, a hunting gift with no mercy. The drunk hat is tilted, and I can't bear to look at the nine flowers in Lingjun. ○The jade flute blows in the wind, and its small mat pattern melts like water. You are wearing a green shirt, and there are a few lots of spring onions on the cold night.
Yingying Guangqi, Leiluo Semicircular Three Crosses. I studied in Jiangmen in the old days, and I was just like a man with poor clothes and a soft hat. ○Who said Han Ling, filling up the sea and patching up the sky is useless. A piece of blue cloud contains traces of Lingjun's old tears.
Cangqiu roots are dry, regardless of the changes in the world. Who can tame the dragon's nature? The appearance is like this. ○Hanhao is still angry, so he wanders to the sky. I will make a new picture and wait to visit the fourth plant in Jiashan.
Several pairs of jade needles, the wind blowing from the ground carried the pearls into chaos. Fainting into raw silk, he treasured the gold dowry and paid it to Zuo Jiao. ○Youth colored clothes, a flash of frost destroys the daylily green. The threads of clothes are invading, and I know the cold spring in my heart.
Semi-regular clear shadow, with the fragrance of heaven in it. I left behind my love for Hunan, and left behind a benevolent and admirable legacy. ○ He is good at reading, and Yue Yuewen and Sun can recite Luo. A Hutang is sweet, don't look at wealth in the world.
is a simple text that makes people cry. Thousands of verses turn over the waves, laughing and blowing out the lamp to achieve nirvana. ○Murderous intentions arise from the sky, like apes, cranes, and sandworms. The fragrant hair is sandalwood, and I want to see King Kong emerging from the tip of my pen.
Shen Xiang's ancient hatred, the words create sorrow for heaven and ask questions. Xuan Pu's speech, another generation of depression. ○The lust will not die, the chanting of boats on the beach will change. Wave to Peng Xian, and the sad history is written in the same way.
Thunder Hail Ban Zhan, talk about it for eight hundred years. Distribute sugarcane and dance towards the south. ○The command is uncertain, and the Jikou is difficult to turn back and the scorpion's life is ruined. It's better than the Western Terrace, and the singing of red birds is coming.
Cicada Yan is of Chinese origin, and she is beautiful in all the states of Bingjie. Chang'an is clear and fragrant, and it is wonderful to study the postscript at the end. ○The dark felt wax is a rare combination of Jie and Yin. The memorial tablet for the consultation is in memory of the time when Donghua wrote the staff.
Yunguan Tou Lao, put his arm into the forest and smiled. The hats and clogs are welcomed by the people, and they win the support of the green hills. ○The cigarette smoke is spread, and the poems are like ancient paintings written by gods. When Liao He returns, he talks to the remnant monk about the ashes of calamity.
The two whirling old men put their hands behind their hands and smiled in invitation. The fragrance is faint, and spring is in the poet's walking stick. ○The order is so powerful that the scenery is vaguely beautiful. The spring city with drums and horns is not the sound of jade flutes from tall buildings.
His whole life is full of integrity, and he is the leader of both Wuqiao and Wuqiao scholars. The sky is flying high, and the light is gathered into small words. ○The moon is stained by Wenhua, and a section of blue smoke cannot fly. He can pick up the pen like a god, and he is still interested in making portraits of stones.
The smoke is lingering, and the unexpected desolation and coldness are reflected in the writing. Squinting at the yellow dust, who is the solitary person in the green mountains? ○There are not many huts, and the taste of the whole family is as clear as a swan. Anma spent his whole life working as a rice porridge monk in the south of the Yangtze River.
Holly shed tears, and she still has no regrets after nine deaths. The sun comes down from the sky, living up to the desire to be alone in the green mountains. ○The king is upright and righteous, and the cold waves of the Yi River cannot be blown away. The sunflower in the high pavilion has always looked at each other in a willow hall.
The elixir ladder has ten steps, connected to Wu Pengchi and the power of Jiejue. Resisting sparse criticism and achieving success in the Qing Dynasty. ○The court shirt was taken off, and the ancestral court smiled. Deeply closed at Chaiguan, the breeze will fill the old mountain.
In this world, there will be tears left after old age. The liver, the lungs, the teeth, do not write the flowers of heaven's approval. ○ I am solitary and frank, but my everlasting regret is my clumsy skill in mending the sky. Sitting and caressing Wu Gou, when did Gao Guan visit Kuai Feng?
Jinfeng direct sect. I bow down willingly with my words. The rest is red and yellow. It is close to Yushan Mountain and nearly half a pond. ○The old mountain floating jade. Spend the blessing of words in dreams. When will I return to my tent? And the woodcutter sings in the flute wind.
[Ten Songs of Qingpingle]
The water sinks and freezes, cutting off the dream of Jiangnan. Wearing a golden phoenix in a single quilt every night, not knowing the severity of new worries. ○The wild geese are walking in the west building, and the ground becomes more desolate when I wake up. I don’t blame that farewell, it was just that there was no discussion.
The chaotic clouds are blowing in the air, and all kinds of new wines are scattered. I am as thin as a guest in the Western Mountains outside of my worries, and my eyebrows are trimmed to fight back. ○Speechless and independent moss, Gaocheng draws horns to remind. Pointing to the end of the journey home, the setting sun is still in the palace.
The yellow bees are not drying out, and the plum blossoms are fragrant outside. The broken grains break away the cold and the rustling of gold stirs up the man alone in the moon. ○Every year, I dream about the cold fairy ladder, and the cold dew and millet invade my skin. The mother-of-pearl baskets are sold to tears, and the painting railings have been gone for a long time.
The sidelights are gradually extinguishing, and the sand is shaking in the desolate moon. As far as the sky is concerned, there is no falcon, where can the Central Plains escape? ○The rivers and lakes are about to disappear, and the wind is blowing in the helm tower. I don't believe that the wild waves are sailing eastward, and the dragon's words are clear.
The eyes are tired in the late spring, and it is easy to change before the flowers bloom. The green flowers of calyx come and bloom late, and the poems of leisurely love disappear. ○The sky wind is like a string of beads in the throat, and the mountains and rivers are clearing away sorrow. The family background is full of feathers and robes, but the head of the pool is not as solid as blue.
In the pond of my old home, the hibiscus is old in the mirror. There is no need to sweep up the flying flowers all over the courtyard. After a while, the afterglow has faded. ○In life, we are in love with the end of the world. At this time, we can return to that place. I don’t know that the sky is getting old, but the white gull still knows that the sky will follow.
The dragon gate is hundreds of feet long, and the bright autumn colors are painted on it. The north and south peaks contrast with each other and stand tall against the rising sun. ○ Kaixuan is full of haze, and the soft red can’t reach the end of the clouds. As a layman with a human origin, the lakes and mountains become more and more beautiful.
No matter what the world is, the devil is happy to hear it. The three-character title of Jinshi of the Tang Dynasty was lost in the game of Yanfu. ○One after another, Ai Zi Xiaolang invited Pao Wat to appear. He smiled and asked how the three horns of millet looked like a drunken cup of pu-cup.
Next to the pavilion and marsh, I lean on my stick and feel comfortable and roar. There are new drawings of the sky and the surrounding screen, and several afterimages have been changed. ○Twenty years old dream of Qingdun, lotus flowers are also your kindness. As soon as I feel that the river is empty and the year is late, I will have some leisure time in the mountains.
The remaining flowers and leaves of the calamity are gone, and the beauty of Chu Wan is gone. It can be said that the dew weeps and smokes, and is not subject to the wind and moon. ○The fragrant soul is scattered in the barren mountains, but the roots are related to ancient times. It's a good companion to write the history of my heart, and I will stay in this world forever.
[Buchan Palace]
The moon was full last night and it rained tonight, all guesswork, cloudy and clear without evidence. I can't sleep due to alcoholism, so I draw candles in a cage and write out autumn sentences. ○The red dance in the West Garden fades away in an instant, the material is like water, and it is difficult to stay at the end of the year. Even if the waning autumn is not as good as the spring, why bother to let the faint crows rush away.
[Second Songs of Xi Qiuhua]
Mu Yu Nanlou, the sudden sound brings me sadness. The pillow is miserable, the west wind and the swallows return to urge them to change. At dusk on the side of the word "Yuguan", broken shadows are passing by, and the eyes of the heart are tinted. Year after year. This is Hengyang Jipu, where spring is flowing. ○Old friends are thousands of miles away. It is expected that the dream of Jianghu is stable, regardless of whether it is warm or cold. Reduce the candle and miss the autumn, and the oar will wake you up and break your heart. The sky is full of clouds, don't miss them, and the spring waves will accompany them. Who is used to it, there is a long door, the moon is bright and the lamp is dark.
Embroidering the spring posture, leaning against the east wind seems to be a pity, which hurts the mood. Scattered traces of exposure, drunkenness at night warms the curtain door. The Yintai is so beautiful that it enters the fairy clouds, the illumination is unstable, and the beauty of the city is charming. Sales spring. It's Qin Zheng who swallows indiscriminately and has a new voice. ○What kind of flowers can I send my regrets to? He is still timid in his spare time, but he usually respects you. The short dream flows, the water passes away, the fragrance is sad and bitter. Lovesickness talks about Hua Qing, who is afraid of the deep night and the sleeping soul. Speechless, I patted the railing and looked for sorrowful words.
[Two Songs of Chaozhongcuo]
Pink clouds cross the border and break the clouds. People sit at Bixitou. In the early days, the polygonum is lightly swaying in the wind, and in the decline of the lotus, the red-backed sand gulls are blooming. ○Where in Jiangxiang, the green mountains are painted with fans, and the yellow leaves return to the boat. Naturally, the guest's heart is shaken, and it doesn't care about the high-rise building.
Jiuli is more clumsy than a dove. There is a dodder in old age. I have retained the family law of Zichun, but I don’t know the crown and belt of Kunqiu. ○Under the eastern forest, twenty years of old dreams must come to an end. Throw away all the ten edges of the mountains and fields, and there will be no destiny for the scalpers.
[Five Poems from Xiaochong Mountain]
The plum blossoms are so moist that they cannot take off your clothes. It rained for three days behind closed doors, and there were few orioles in the evening. The east wind turns to fine silk. The red fragrance is gone, the words of carefree and happy spring. ○Happy things will change every year. After seeing the cherries three times, the glow remains. I will report to you when I am free and worried. Flowers float in the water, and hatred flows onto the red gate.
The rain washes the autumn posture against the greenery. The light moth is newly swept out, and it is still late. Xishan is so unfinished. The sand gulls laugh, and the guests are as free as silk. ○It’s not about missing lovesickness. After Chu Lan was shaken, her short book was sparse. Poems about a few people wearing clogs in the west wind. There are wild geese in the sky, and there is no need to mention the chaos.
The small pavilion is cold in the green dampness and yin, and I can’t bear the wine to clear up the turbidity. The wind stirs up the water and the candle branches are broken. When the frightened birds go away, they hear the sound of Bilanggan. ○Tou Laowu Yunguan. The eyes are full of dust and things, and it is difficult to be honest. The end of the world is a plan for Guhuan. In the ruthless month, I will be ill for three times.
The beauty of spring in the southern country comes once again, and the jade and jade joints are opened behind the back, which means it is sad. It's a waste to shed red tears to cherish the early stage. Only Jin Ying knows the root cause of sorrow. ○Unable to protect the branches. The east wind will stop planting again, there will be love and infatuation. For the past few years, my thoughts have been on Gracilaria. He is not weighed, and his head is white and full of lovesickness.
Passers-by can talk about the soldiers every year, covering the villages and blocking the way of people. The flywheel rushes into the dark to test the journey of spring. The returning wind still carries the smell of battle dust. ○The sunset is full of smoke. The wild firefly is three or four o'clock, lighter than the stars. Call Qun Chuangyan to be silent. If no one cares, I will make you cry.
[一drop rope]
The setting sun sets the solitary city deep and closed, and the four mountains are wild and green. The sound of breaking the sound is unbearable, it is whimpering and mulberry dry water. ○The noble man in the high pavilion leans slightly, causing sorrow to turn into drunkenness. The colorful clouds live up to their return date, but they are still afraid that the dusk will be easy.
[Taichangyin]
There was a slight surge in the late night at Xiguan.At the end of the day, old friends are far away. When Cong Gui will recruit, he can't dream of Tiao Nan painting the radius. ○When we meet at a small moor, chrysanthemums are on the back of the oars, and the flavor words are holding pincers, and the tide is flowing out of the harbor. There are three or two autumn lights with low latitude.
[Night Tour Palace Two Songs]
The door is covered by the dusk and drizzle. The three came out and served as the golden building for the feast. Stop singing Jiangnan heart-broken poems, small silver zither, thirteen strings, new columns. ○The remaining cricket catkins outside the flowers. The dark throat is broken, and the green yarn is smoked. Sad knot travels on the middle road of Yunmeng. Pick up the lamp, fold the red paper, and seal it with tears.
Blowing water to dispel the fragrance is early. The cyanotic pot is warm and the lamp is turned back with a smile. The messy green servant girl's pillow and letter are small, like a Luofu. The moon is dim and yellow, and it comes in a dream. ○The sky is dark and the wind is blowing. Small birds are nearby, and the sky is full of crows. Start to change the old year's draft of Shangchun. When there is no one around, I manage the red hairpin and grow old.
[Reminiscences of old friends in Taoyuan]
The jade concubine calls the moon and Penglai is shallow, and the lead and water are like a galaxy. In the dream, the person leaning on the railing changes, and the favor is exhausted by the palace fan. ○The makeup building is full of residual light in the west wind, which makes you look fancy. The fragrance is on the south bank of Hongyi, the sky is close and the microwave is far away.
[Extreme lovesickness]
Qu Lan is clear, the mirror is polished in autumn, and the cyan clouds are flying by. The two mandarin ducks have had enough sleep, the rhombus silk is spinning, and they don't believe in the storm. ○One evening, I walked far away in the clouds. The old palace was yellow and desolate. The weather has become colder, and the dragon's beard is like a brocade, and it is getting colder and colder.
[Two Songs of Love and Embroidery Quilt]
The sun sets behind the cicada curtain and the sun rises, looking into the mirror. When the wind blows, Lingbo and Luo Sock are left in the cold while doing your business. ○The embroidered dust coils around the horse's green doorway, with the west wind at its back, able to rationalize and stop madness. Don’t forget, we made a car appointment, late at night, under the moon, it was like crossing the parapet.
The red scales blow the fragrance of the wine, leaning on the golden boat, and the night is long. I dreamed that at the bottom of Peng Mountain, I asked about Lan Xin and her sleeves were dewy. ○ Yancheng goes without lovesickness, listens to the empty building, and looks tired in the autumn mirror. The word "material brocade" means "rarely able to meet", negative year after year, and sent to the general by the river.
[Two Songs of a Night Boat]
Hunting, cool smoke and late night osmanthus, dusk is approaching, wine is sad and carefree. The fragrant red gauze flying low with exposed feet is wet, and the Forbidden City leads to tears. ○ Half of the remaining paintings in Cangzhou. The west wind blows, and the flute cannot be heard. Hate the water to leave the smoke, where is the fairy tree, but the fish tail is skimming off the waves.
My heart is filled with wine. The old soul disappears, shadowed on the E Pond. At first, the strings and strings are as soft as the clouds. I turn over the flowers and step on them to sing a new song. ○Don’t be ashamed of being late. Near the gate, there are many obstacles. The beautiful woman is unable to dance back to the wind, fighting against lightness is a waste of her delicate palms.
[Four Poems about Heartfelt Love]
Zhi Qiong Ke is tired of the gull. Flying dream falls on Pingzhou. The cool breeze blows down the wild geese in the south, and the resentment flows into the autumn water. ○If you have no idea, ask Xilou. Old curtain fishing. Where is the orchestra, the palace is empty with fallen leaves, and the head of the pond is crystal clear.
Binghutingguan Zongboping. The light screen hides the lamp. Sitting alone on the mountain, leaning against a fan, looking at the moving stars from the tail of a bamboo. ○Things on the wrong road lead to tired wandering. Dreams never come true. The exposed postures are gone, the jade mat is still there, and the autumn is born overnight.
The news of Luan Yuqiu is endless. Birch candles cover the mountain. The rhyme of the well is suddenly exposed, and the Jianghe River returns in a frightening dream. ○Without any other words, I embrace the sleeping servant girl. Tears dry up. The wind blows in the orchid bushes, but before reaching the needle tower, it feels cold in Luo Jian.
The mesh is broken and the water sinks into smoke. The silver duck sleeps steadily. The dew point on my clothes is like rain. I sit and watch the moon flow. ○Tiaoan Road, gong boat. What year is it. Leaning on the building, my thoughts are clear, and my clothes are pure and simple. I can withstand the cold autumn.
[Three Songs on Visiting Kinmen]
The windows are dark and the spring cold is endless on all sides. Crows crow around the tree, and the weft is red and wet with tears. ○I am unable to change my clothes, and I am worried about the news about Yuguan. I swore secretly that Mr. Luan Luan would not remember me, so I forced myself to look for a gap in the mirror.
The flower is leaking urgently, and the lichen is red and narrow. The man with the dancing sleeves should follow suit, and the host will turn out to be the guest. ○Today there is a beautiful feast under the cloud screen, and tomorrow there is a desolate post with ragged cuckoos. The clouds on the collapsed ground are as thick as ink. Where can I stand in my dream?
can't keep it, the butterfly fairy skirt takes a slight step. Drops of water cut off the road outside Wufeng Tianwai, and it rains all night long like a curtain. ○The new composition of Yellow Flowers with Tears is written as Chan Yan's Yiyu. The twin green feathers of the fairy mountain are waiting to be called, and I send you my affection.
[Ten Songs of Candle Shadow Shaking Red]
The golden fairy shed tears, but went out of the way with the plate. The wild geese crow in the cool cloud cage in autumn, and the fragrant orchid smiles while the dew weeps. ○The solitary phoenix travels in the smoke near the dawn, bringing misty dreams to the red wall. The stone scales are desolate water, the west wind does not care, the low fireflies shine on themselves.
After a few days of poetry, I don’t know where the swallow will go. Stop the falling catkins and flying flowers, and change the way in front of the door. ○Zeng Caiyoufang wrote a sentence about the lake and mountains, which suddenly made him sad. Pingting plays the flute and expresses her sadness, and her chanting becomes increasingly painful.
Sitting in the east wind, half-fairy clouds rise from the sky. The makeup is slightly dizzy with tears and rouge, and the mirror is leaning against the branches. In the dream of Qin Zheng in the embroidered house, I pressed Liangzhou and urged me to chant and get drunk. After the orioles crow, the setting sun changes and the world is fragrant. ○ There is no definite cloudy or clear sky, and I can’t understand Dongjun’s intention in the vast sky. There is spring light everywhere in front of me, turning the idle peaches and plums upside down. If you want to describe the past events of the Hua Qing Dynasty, the waves of dust and cold desolation will gnaw at the paper.The soul cannot return from sleep, the flames of candles screen the mountains, and I miss myself alone.
The remaining ink on the mountain face, for whom it reaches the hook curtain. Di buds and birds are noisy on the flat bank, and the orchid road is still clear. The flowing light passes through the feathers, the cold Zen sky, the bells and the pestle are broken. Where is the fragrant travel? There is no reason to clear the corner, and it is so sad to blow. ○Spring ends at the end of the world, and Maoyuan is intoxicated and thinking about returning to the poem. On a good day and a good night, there is an old east wind, but who believes that the cuckoo's cuckoo is bitter? I want to pick apple blossoms and send them to you, but the green window is deep and my expectations are wrong. The dangerous fence is leaning against, the setting sun is covered with chaos, and there are countless floating clouds.
The spring curtain is covered with wicker and light clouds in the northwest. A thousand chirps of Bo Lao will not make the sky clear, and the smoke will make the hairspring fall. The ground is littered with cherry blossoms, and the east wind is blowing again in the shadow of the building. Thousands of reds are sinking, amidst the sound of thunderbolts, who is holding the setting sun? ○It is easy to dissolve the condensation, which makes Chu Lan feel sad. Waiting for the wine, Cangzhou sheds tears. Standing alone against the dangerous railing with sleeves and hands, the green leaves are turning and the sea air is faint. The fish, dragon and wind are bad, the fragrance is half broken, and the sorrow is hard to express.
The stacks of drums are gloomy, and the pink plum blossoms are floating in the cold air. The two swallows in front of the house did not come back, and Liang Hua was covered with dust. Rong Yisi Yang Cuixuan is afraid of the east wind and the new sorrow. The lights have just been turned off, the swing has not yet been tied, and the love is sad and beautiful. ○For no reason, the oriole cries on its back and wets the agarwood threshold. A spring brings joy and water, and wine eliminates sorrow. Don't dream about the silver screen and all the emotions. Your heart is moving, but your flute silk has not yet been restrained. Laughing on the way home, wild flowers scattering the face, the dusk is dim.
The autumn posture is in the mirror, and the four mountains are dark and melancholy. The shadows of toads turn and scatter in the empty bath, and the three or five cool fireflies flicker. People in Qingjing are easy to owe when they are free, and when they wash away their leisurely feelings, their cups are not filled with wine. After the sound of waves, all the money is gone, and the dragonfly is alone. ○The moon bead lamp is used to make flowers float out of the fence. The fish and birds should be a little tired of urging Ah Lai to spend the night indiscriminately. The remaining half of the painting on Cangzhou is hung with Xifeng and Canglong Suisui. The crows haven't woken up yet, the wind is sparse outside, and the heavy city is more dense.
Thousands of families cry in the wild, but they don’t hate the light of spring behind closed doors. In the year of the year, there are many immortals standing in front of the palace, looking at the fragrant hall. I went to Lao Cangjiang and slept late, afraid of arrangements, clinging to chickens and painting swallows. Enjoy the lights and slaughter Su in troubled times, now your mind is clear. ○How long will you live? How long will it take to change your scarf? The dream soul is still pointing to the class, who knows that Chang'an is far away. Then the sound of worshiping the cuckoo is cut off, and I lean on the dangerous fence, with my hair short in the wind. For whom is the news? Firecrackers are next to the east, and the green flags are trembling alone.
The spring lights are broken, and the wine cannot withstand the cold. Borrowing someone from the fence to drop the horizontal branches, it eliminates the feeling of passing years. The flying flowers of the guests are reduced together, and the waste is far away, and the clear lead is several points. The two swallows in the painting hall fly next to whose house, and the carved beams are newly occupied. ○Lying alone in the Cangjiang River, the old alliance found a flock of gulls. Don't rely on Huiyan to complain about your hometown, causing shock and waves all over the place. The spring plate of raw tea is not yet full. There are two plum blossoms in Beijing and half ashes of condensed dust. In the cold weather, I am willing to be loved by my neighbor and make easy money from the east wind.
The eucalyptus trees hang in autumn, and the ashes of honey are warm and fragrant. The silver platform is surrounded by double lines of flowers, and the place is connected to the clear dawn. Counting official Mei Xin early, accounting for time, Qiongxiao misty. The spring breeze is uncertain, but after the Double Ninth Festival, the peaches are full. ○The fields are wide and the sky is wide, full of love and affection. When the body is idle, the elixir of heart is as strong as ever, and Langyuan is full of immortality. With a smile on the root of the cloud, the colorful hair flies and the Zhu string plays the ancient tune. Two luan's cross each other, the sky is warm and fragrant, the red corns and black hats are there.
[Wushan Duan Yun]
The bead curtains are sold out and the spring embroidery is sold, and the golden furnace sinks in the evening. Forbidden flowers are scattered and a few apes are singing, which is easy to be the autumn shade. ○My eyebrows are small when I look at them from afar, and my tears are deep when the microwave reaches them. The color of the mountains is so overwhelming that I can only find it in my dreams.
[Pin Ling]
The orioles are released in the green cage. Yu Sheng calls and the clouds come and go. My thoughts are like a leaf in a palace. The old fragrance and old color are always next to the dressing table. ○Ah Luanxin sings at the end of the song. Also peeking into people's eyebrows. The lantern core returns to the autumn tent as the moon slants, and the tired farmer feels melancholy. Zheng strings rang across the alley.
[Zuixiangchun]
The green dust is condensed on the pavilion, and it is sad to see the flowers lying on the branches. Remember Jinse, who grows up with people and occupies the broken pearl curtain. ○More details: Qiao Chuda, not the time of year and the moonlight night. It's normal to meet each other. It's like a spring string unloading.
[Four Songs of the Happy Migrant Orioles]
The smile is shallow, the makeup is late, and the sweet things are gone. The horse with the embroidered saddle has returned empty-handed, and there is still an appointment for Yan to come. ○The mirror screen moves, the flowers leak forever, and I look at the shadow of the female bed Luan with regret. I met the curtains of my house in my dream, and turned to the east of the Song Dynasty wall.
yu worm cold drop. The curtain of falling plum blossoms shines on the door, and the light spring is still separated. The clothes are made of sorrow, and the distance is so long that the smoke is straight. It is made to have a bitter taste, a long-lasting beauty, and a mirror-like color. After chanting tiredly, I accompany the moon falling from the west tower. I am worried about the guests tonight. ○Happy traces. Holding back tears, I remember a few memories of my old home and check out the flutes and flutes. The phoenix is light and dusty, the luan and hairpin are dense, and the chants are filled with resentment, red and sad blue. I also think about the dream, how have I ever experienced the road outside the flowers? I haven't fallen asleep yet, and I feel confused and worried.
The wind is shaking. In the pavilion of the old age, there are two boats on the Miasang River, and the branches are divided into branches. The people and flowers are the best, and I still travel in the same year. The fragrance spreads over the turret pines, the fire is red, and the tangerine door is shaded by rocks.The swallow comes early, I ask if the residual cold has disappeared, will the fragrant voice return? ○ Leisure place. A few signatures were sent to Gu Meng Ji and Yan Yi, and the fight hung on Cangshan Mountain at noon. The resentment is back, and the end of the year is urging me to send you off, but I won't send a single feather of Manfan. He slaughtered Su Wumei since he was dead, and he relied on Huijian to write sentences carelessly. Move your pillow around, look at the scrolls of flowers and candles, and the red clouds.
Cangzhou Chengbie. It's freezing and astringent, and the wine is in my arms. It's rare to see snow in the south. The night is long, the guest's clothes are thin in spring, and the bed embroidered with gold thread is perfect. Tired of clinging to the leaves, I listen to myself in confusion and sing the flute festival. I hate my temples, they are fresh spots of clear frost, and the branches are shamefully broken. ○South Vietnam. The plum blossoms are dim, the fragrance is faint under the tent, and the sorrow is tied with the green lantern. The east wind is troublesome, the end of the world is easy, and the sound of Guan Jia is choked. When the trees come back, the waves in my heart are soft and broad. Looking for dreams, I am afraid that the smoke will completely cover me, and the yellow moon will appear by the sand.
[Ban female resentment]
Xie Tang is worried about thousands of things, and her makeup is thin. The green luan is upturned and the golden phoenix is wisps, looking forward to the passing of spring. Walking around the flowers, you can't hear the warblers.
[Two Songs Across the River]
The lingering fragrance floats in the mist on the Qingyang Road. Everywhere. The curtain has a flower bottom and a red door. No one lives there. What age. Pin Chun Su. ○Xiaocaoxiang, real pearl red note. Pick the string posts. The harp and harp make their own language. There is no public crossing. The west wind pays. Tide back.
sentences Chen Yuanwu faces each other. Twilight. Jiu Lan's courage is exposed. Liuying Road. Who draws it? Wucheng Fu. ○Afraid of heavy talk, Protector of Anxi. Qingcong goes. Qiu Lin has left the garrison since the Ming Dynasty. Wind and rain. You, the head of the city. Faint crow language.
[Three Songs of Xixizi]
The tragic song of Yan and Zhao people is here, and Meng's old home is overturned. He shouted for wine, but before the feast was half over, the strings of his zither broke. Sober up and startled. I will hate going up to the tall building and looking at Youzhou.
The warbler is singing in the green window. Sleeping on a mountain pillow will eliminate your frown. Good spring is gone, people are farther away. Jejunal rupture. Whispering phoenix grate golden trembling. Go to Ma Baochai Tower. Do not look back.
converted to Yanmen Qiuchai. Melancholy twists the belt of acacia. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart was broken. The void calls. Don't worry about breaking the bank. Look back and ask Goto. Change to Illinois.
[Two Songs of Drunk Taiping]
The bonfire lamps are cold, the books on the bed are broken, and a single leaf on the window is open, making me feel leisurely and full of sorrow. ○Xishan rebuked, the orchid was shameless, and in the dream, I was ashamed to cross the mulberry trunk, and there were tears before autumn.
green window to win money. Honglan Jianhan. Fighting against Chanjuan in the distance. Everyone is in the same mood. ○The skirt is wide. The tears are dry. I am worried about staying in Meishan. It’s a cold night after passing the West Tower.
[Reminiscences of Youth]
The smoke and dust can be seen for a long time, the ruthless Qingwei River will never return to the east. The desolate Du Lingsou sings his sad songs in the same valley. ○The moon is bitter and frosty. If you endure the flood, the willows will be new and the trees will be green. Where the wind-calling bird is, there is a pile of golden millet.
[The Second Song of Xijiang Moon]
When the Que Yuanyang Society disperses, the swallows move to their nests in the cold. Spring hurts people when they wake up from drunkenness. The wine is cold and the flowers fly far away. ○There is no dream in the mountain pillow for a spring, and there are two railings in the water hall. The shaft curtain comes to adjust the strings of the piano, and the east wind in the heart is in chaos.
Looking for the robbery and turning over the jade bureau, stealing the sound and recording the silver paper at night. Some leisurely things to celebrate the Chinese New Year. The style of the letter is really lazy. ○The musk deer on the sleeves of the shirt is resting slightly, and the parrots are talking about it. My own house is neglected. Check out the hairpins on the partition wall.
[Recalling Two Songs by Wang and Sun]
The sound of the jade flute is flying in the smoke. The boat opened up a patch of water. The hands of the jade zodiac are facing each other. Tired of flattering. Only Shaou has no feelings for the world.
Hua Ruozhangan wakes up from wine. Leaning alone in the lantern, dry rain comes again. The spring tide of sorrow arises day and night. When will it be flat? If you don’t believe it, you won’t shed any tears.
[Two Songs Between Drunken Flowers]
The slanting sun screens the mountains in darkness, and the waves are full of color. The geese do not fly back, the west wind weeps on the strings. ○Lang lives in Jinyanyi. A piece of paper has been obtained over the years, but he has no two wings. In the dream, the new path was vague, and the army moved, and the barrier was dark.
Lanjiao looks like ink on a cloudy spring day. The east wind has no strength. The two swallows plunder the bright ripples, secretly letting go of leisure and sorrow. ○ Tears add to the narrowness of the golden cup. Drunk and dazzled. Embroidered curtains are easy to separate. Xie Niang's thoughts are clearest. Who can tell the difference between the brocade paper and the book?
[Fourteen Songs for Picking Mulberry Seeds]
This year, Yanhua is on the roadside, and the true color screen is empty. The chaotic leaves fade into red, and fade into one or two peaks of the palace eyebrows. ○Guanhe thousands of miles hurt and brought tears to the eyes, and ruined the west wind. The word "Jin" means trouble. Don't go to a high building to count the number of birds.
Water essence quenches the thirst of people in sleep and dreams, but does not give them golden stems. With the help of Qianqiong, the spring thunder spins up and comes out of the vase. ○One spoonful also contains some ginger and stony milk flowers. Yuxi is cool and refreshing, and the flavor is clearer than sobering ice.
People say that the West Lake is beautiful when the moon spreads out, and the clouds are overcast even at dusk. Xiao Sen is in Jiaofang, and he has a spare room to listen to the rain. ○Su'e seems to cherish the loneliness of others and hangs low in the plain forest. The bridle is urged to sink in the west, and the money for the night comes unexpectedly.
It’s good to go up to the West Lake in the moonlight over the Three Pools, so I’ll go there with a drink. There are not many willows, but Peng Lang has white hair. ○Only when I lean on the railing can I feel the heavy fragrance of autumn and the heavy load of wind. Thousands of autumn snails and vast greenery rush to the mirror nest.
Look at the mountains and look for the West Lake, which is good, Xiaoyao is in the middle of the stream. The water pillow is surrounded by flowers, and there are countless scenery spots. ○The darkness shakes a leaf in the vast sky and bathes at the head of the swan bay. The cicadas are singing in autumn, where is the poet Huang Mianlou.
Fo Xiang Xian Bai West Lake is good, I live near Nanping. The patient's ears are dim, and he is used to counting the sound of the clear bell towards the evening. ○The sunset reaches the Huangfei Pagoda, and the grass and trees are curled up. The shadow is clear, and an old monk looks slumped in his towel.
Xianou knows the West Lake best and is willing to say goodbye to Qingdun. When you come to tell me about your kindness, you will be able to reach the shore in a small boat. ○At thirty, he lived in the pavilion and opened the pond and boat. Fight for leisure, and you will arrive at the door next year when the flowers are blooming.
Double moths, osmanthus leaves and Wu makeup are light, and the fragrant sleeves rest on the shoulders. The water is at the beginning of the round, the crimson wax wind is disappearing and the cold is fine. ○After the people in Yuehua divided their thoughts, the wild geese were talking in the sky. The dream of flowers is empty and the scenery is nothing like last year.
Cichao Wanluo low Feiyan, the general road is ruthless. My eyes are full of tears, and I can't live in the bitter taboo. ○The cloister is a place of misty meditation, greeted by the mist and moon. There was a sound of business in the dream, and autumn moss grew step by step all night long.
I know that my love is wandering and the spring is gone, and I cherish my time. Don't change the incense in the stove, just sit by the small words that calm your heart. ○The leisurely feeling reaches the water in the east of the building, and you can gaze at the bright makeup. Suohu Wenchuang, win a dream of many lives.
Fushengtian and Ji are separated, and no lingering is allowed. Thin and dry strings are all the reason for autumn people's freedom. ○The moon was shining brightly on the Ying'e Pond, shining brightly on Chan Juan. Farewell is like smoke, and nineteen years have passed by.
Now I know Liu Lang’s hatred, and I am in love with the phoenix and the phoenix. Not in Pengshan, only in the small fan room with low curtains. ○I am used to wandering around in my clothes at night. Who can see the moonlight? There is no reason for sorrow and joy, but the old dreams of high hills are still cold.
Don't regret that there is no bright moon tonight, and avoid Chang'e. The wine is full of fragrant snails, and the good night is spent watching people in dreams. ○After returning home, I lay alone in the rain outside the west window, with few idle tears. If you don't listen to the song, you will have already made arrangements to call Naihe.
Xianyun may not necessarily be able to think about it, but the questions are all over the paper. Piaomiao wanders among immortals, and loses his clear chants to a generation of virtuous people. ○I am unable to find sentences when I am old, and I sit here and cherish my years. By the side of the passing wild geese, my soul is broken and sleeps in the west hall during the day.
[Two Songs for Celebrating Spring]
After dusk, my heart and eyes felt cold. Do you remember the joy of the past? The clothes are fragrant and the shadows of spring are long and dry. ○Wu Yu listened and asked who pointed Gong Luan for the photo. The eagle is close to the bottom, and the moon is frozen, and it still looks like a green eyebrow.
In late spring, the door is closed, the clothes are fragrant and the clothes are fragrant, and the steps are shy. The young swallows carry mud in their mouths, and the long sun returns at an angle. ○The east wind is in chaos, not for the happy occasion. Add fragrant green quilt, named Zangfeng paper, to entertain when the flowers are falling.
[Two Songs of Licorice Seeds]
Autumn dusk. Awakening from the dream, the remaining crickets chatter in the agarwood household. The dark ink cannot form a book, the sky is far away and the wind blows on the road. ○Tonight, I am in a dimly lit place, asking the tired guest who will count the return journey. The wild geese in the infinite autumn heart are about to leave and pay the cold rain in the Chu sky.
天木. All the remaining crows passed by, and the windows were dimly lit. Dust rises all over the city, and the dark moon calls out to the Eagle Road. ○The place where Yan and Zhao’s old homes meet. The depths of his eyes are countless. The lone sword turned into a dragon by the bedside. There was wind and rain for a long time.
[Nine Songs of Poppies]
How many times the river has fallen, a sad scroll. The red frost sweeps away all the towers, winning a hundred years of peace and prosperity for you. ○ When making people's poems and poems, tears burst into tears when they are sad, and they burst into pieces in the ileum. Mo Chen has been robbed of the gray and cold together, but the autumn lights of Xiaoji are still facing Chang'an.
In the evening, the orioles fly out of the curtain door, and the wind horses sing in the eaves. Amidst the sound of spring rain at the end of the world, an inch of candlelight is still in love, and the feast is red. ○The clouds outside Wangjing Tower are full, and the eyes are filled with sadness. Famous stations blow cold old gold and win the pride of Wuling and the hearts of young people.
The misty moon in the water hall disappears the eyebrows and calyx, and the dream breaks off the qiongzhi. Sitting with a low frown and a deep look, I don't know what the pink fragrance, tears, and wet clothes are all about. ○In the dark sky, the zither sounds are rising from the west tower, and the curtains are blowing. Looking at people singing clear songs under flowers, I don’t believe that a spring dream of rain will be more sorrowful than it is.
Chaochao is sad and ashamed, and the heart is broken. The jade plum blossoms bloomed at the farewell banquet, but they said they would return before the flowers withered. ○ Yanzhou Road is on the screen, and when I wake up from drunkenness, I sing my sculls. Tears do not hesitate to wash the red paper, knowing that it is difficult to send a letter because it sticks to the waves in the sky.
When I was young, I was alone and wrote letters, but I was still in a daze while drinking wine. It is because of the luxuriant grass that I remember the skirt, and countless east winds frighten my dreams, making them unable to form clouds. ○Agarwood rains everywhere, and the broken mirror and flowing flowers disappear. Failing to face the spring tide without hatred, I have gained Hui Fan's heart and mind, so far.
I haven’t woken up from the dream of wild geese for many years, and the wild geese are wandering wildly. There is no need to discuss the people who hang sails, so they are born with Bianzhou and have no interest in it. ○The stubborn autumn waist and feet are unmanageable, and the long-term injury brings tears to the eyes. The old friend's letters fell into the west wind, but I emptied them of the dust of the mountains and rivers.
At dusk, the plum wind blows in the flute, and the grass spreads all over the skirt. A full column of red calyx should always be worn, and if you don't respect it, it will be reduced and your heart will be gone. ○He Lang's writing style is old, and he becomes annoyed when sitting under the flowers. The cold moon on the river calls me true, a wisp of sadness still lingers, so the branches are spring.
Chang'e does not regret stealing the elixir, and she makes an appointment in the lonely blue sea. When the dowry is not yet round, who calls the wind and makes a flurry of flutes. ○The slender clouds roll away the cold golden waves, shattering the shadows of mountains and rivers. Yan Chou really wants to ask the blue sky, if the moon will shine brightly this year and next year again.
Jing Wu was shocked one night in the early autumn, and at the end of the month Nan Hong was young. The golden incense seal script can't help the wind, covering the road to the end of the world and the painting screen. ○Poluo spent all his years in tears, forgetting his joys and resentments. Autumn watch has twenty-five long sounds, who can accompany the sleepless people on their backs and acacia beds.
[Two Songs of Jiuquanzi]
Returning swallows step on the curtain, and the flowers are dark and fragrant on the road. When I was heartbroken, I held hands and peered into the dowry. ○One spring of silent tears and Jiangnan, stirring up Xie Niang’s heartfelt song. When the jade hair comes back and the silver hair frowns, it is an empty letter.
insect net blowing curtain. Cut off the path of leisure and sorrow. Willows and flowers are flying, with no fixed place, filling the rivers and ponds. ○Pick incense at the south of Broken Bridge. Who will pounce on the horizontal hairspring? The writing is new and the dream is ripe. Li Chunfan.
[Five Poems by Siyue People]
Bu was in a bad mood, huddled in the cold night, and his shoulders were thin when writing poetry. The Qingqin is broken and the big move is scattered. ○ Smiling to resist sparse fame, losing paper is thin, feeling lonely and lonely. I was slightly asleep, and there were sounds of people chanting and chanting.
shovel the east wind evil. The dust is shadowy and the stockings are scratched. The oil wall gives up. The flowers on the embankment are falling. ○Afraid of heavy wine, cold smell and thin sleeves. Intermittent spring sorrow and dream pavilion. There is no ground to land on. Cowardly across the curtain, Hengbo came to make an appointment.
I feel evil at night. The curtains are filled with shadows, and the jade hooks are double-cut. Spring is thin but beautiful. The catkins are still falling. ○ Get rid of leisure and sorrow early, like wine that is thin. The drizzle lights and flowers are floating in the small pavilion. Partially dreaming. In the north of Yulan, we have a happy date during the New Year.
The road is full of evil. Give them to each other, and cut the plain writing by yourself. The sorrow of spring is gone. The tide goes out late. ○The atmosphere of the old days is as beautiful as the clouds are thin. Less than Hongni Tianban Pavilion. Still remember. To find peach leaves and peaches, make an appointment in advance.
There is frost and wind in the painting. Look at what time it is, the evening peak is sharp. The thick green color is picked up. A forest is falling. ○ When I am lazy, I sip the winter mash, which is as thin as water. Sitting against the oil window in the new warm pavilion. By Mei Rui. Make an appointment for flower classes and add repairs to children.
[青门音]
Don’t blame Lanqiao Drink. The drunken coral is hard to sleep on. Goose screen dream separated by the green mountains of Shu, whose cries wet the brocade at the head of the river. ○The golden toad bites the lock to know who is forbidden. The remaining leaves of the furrow are soaked in red. Qing'e shed tears because of this. The west wind thins but the east sun sinks.
[Saw Solution Order]
Drunk and Shuangyan bid farewell to the west building, wake up without remembering, and the cup will be full of tears. The sky in front of the flowers sings and sings the ripples, and the old sorrows remain unchanged. ○The strings are rolled all over. That's a lazy change of song. I just send the last spring of the feast away, it is common to fight hard and fall red.
[Fourteen Poems Looking at Jiangnan]
Sit under the lamp, the moon outside the lamp is flat to the west. Accompanying the leisurely sorrow, nestling in the dusk swallow, protecting the thin sleeping curtain and rhinoceros. Only when the dream comes. ○The orioles are awakening, and the tidbits are fascinating in late spring. The rain on the pillow has stains on half of the sleeves, and Jinglan is unable to iron her eyebrows. Not for living alone.
Xiangzhen is old, and Zhu Ming is the emperor of the dynasty. If you don’t believe that a bright pearl is born in the sea, the sadness in the south of the Yangtze River will always be difficult to calm down. Worried about Genglan Cheng. ○Cang Wu hates, and the tears of bamboo have subsided. For eternity, Xiangling has heard the joyful place, and the clouds and mountains are filled with sad sounds. Every word is heart-warming.
fight for one word, and the goose and duck are annoyed by Chunjiang. It turned out that the new Yuefu was released, and Qi Liang also appeared in the music. I can't bear to belittle Sandang. ○The sea of clouds is about to appear, and the bright mirror is covered with autumn frost. I hope Wu Jizi is alive and has never looked like a filthy man. There is a pond when I return to my old age.
Jialingyun, there are many people with sorrow and joy. The domineering spirit is quite mixed with the green curse, and the clear sound is just called Ziyun Song. Regardless of Xiu Shihe. ○As an old man, let’s take a look at the wine. The subtlety of the body is not enough to spoil the romance, but it is better to be a poem than to be greedy for too much. The sect started in Zhehe.
Lan Qi is very expensive, and he is willing to be a family man. Interpret the words on Hongluo Pavilion, "The world would rather be alone in the small mountain". You know whether you are warm or cold. ○Extremely soul-stirring, a peerless poem by Ruan Ting. Seeing the green poplar city wall, tourists sang Yechun's poems together. The pen is full of sadness.
Staying as a guest, the Partridge Chapter of Jue Tiao. To get rid of all the poetry flow and Xiangze habits, the high autumn atmosphere is opposite to Nanshan. Liodu Yan wave front. ○Beside Changshui, Eryin is better than Turtle Creek. Regardless of the name of the poem, the poems are related to each other. Humanity is in good health.
The south lake is hidden, and the heart is broken by a small long reed. I picked up the hateful words in the air, but I don't know if I can detect the beads on my chin. Divine enlightenment is also trivial. ○The power of Huilan can be used to select candidates. Since the origin of the etymology is sparse, the word "chishou" can be seen in Zi Mian. Objection four farmers.
The golden needle is perfect, and the words are distinguished by Zhi'an's essence. Cutting off the flow of people and changing the situation, the music garden with one light will always be bright. Deduced four commentaries. ○The boat is like a leaf, and landing on the shore is your kindness. A dream about the remaining old moon in Jinliang, and the thousand-year-old jade curtain has returned to the cloud. The sheets are divided into shed rocks.
Nothing good can lead to a career. Of course, being sad has become a habit, and I don't shy away from tiredness for leisure. I am grateful for my life. ○A lyricist who spends his spare time entertaining relatives and doing other things. In the 20th year of the Kejia Mountain, guests were disembarking, and the fans were all painted in the air.Achieve the body of suffering.
Autumn wakes up and embraces the spirit of Biqi. Growing orchids and miscellaneous pendants, competing with the tripod, let Qingyin sing. Xinqi guide has deep roots. ○ Zhen Shige, Ling Shen's several ginsengs. If you cite the long and short sentences from the Confucian classics, you will recall the south of the Yangtze River. It has an elegant sound.
Gao Wen said that being a coward leads to Zhuang Tan. I feel the frost flying towards the mirror, and I understand that my clothes are moistened by the smoke from the furnace. It's wonderful beyond words. ○ I hate the end of the road, I cut the ground and sing songs of mourning. How many times I shed tears of sorrow for the spring and worry about the country, and my family supports Du Lingcai. The thief comes from hard work.
One petal of incense is as long as half a pond. It looks like a flower outside the flower every time, and its appearance is worse than that of Mingke Xiong. The ridge represents this sect style. ○Looking for a hidden place, the sky opens up in the big crane cave. Crossing the river to avoid visitors becomes a sojourn. In times of mourning, there is no place to waste the talents of immortals. Take some time off.
Idle gold powder, Cao Hao cannot make a country. A new army emerged, and the non-Guan Ci school had Xijiang. Being proud makes it difficult to be together. ○Double flying wings, regret to kill in Yingzhou. The poem is written by Yi An Ren Dao Yun, but it is sad to die and worried about work. Heartbroken and blocked by Yuan Qiu.
Let’s talk about rhythm and diction. The bamboo branches were turned over and returned to Xudu, and the feathers and feathers were carved again. Hold and match Zixia without. ○It is difficult to master the skills of an eagle and an insect through the ages. He newly worshiped Hainan as general and tried to visit the Guijiao Central Plains. Whoever comes will ascend to the altar.
[Chrysanthemum New]
The night is full of flowers in the ancient alley, and the money is proud of the horse beside the horse. Try on a spring shirt with a smile, turn over the old clothes and embroider the sky, Wu patterns. ○Ten years of life and life are tied to the dusty net. Dreams are about to wear clothes and stare at the old mountains. There is no silk to dye with barberry, and it is necessary to cook and paint Luo Qiucheng.
[Ruienxin]
Guihong's thoughts are colder than Yun's. The remaining tears and passing waves are all condensed. The frost-covered maples, the strong spring red, each leaf, darkly carves the shadow of the heart. ○In the dream, Ruoye is like a mirror. The autumn water is quenched, and the sword flowers are frosty. Waiting for the Ming Dynasty, I will return to work for Yuan Gong, and I will plant thousands of hectares of silk.
[Two Songs of Phoenix Title Cup]
Only two pairs of swallows are affectionate, looking for dreams and thanking the family hall. It's rare for a new couple in Chitou to play the flute, and they all feel sorry for each other. The sun is setting late. ○The mountains are long and the sky is far away. Should fight hard, complain and cry out. Today I show you the fragrant paper with your fine calligraphy, and I am ashamed to miss you so much.
The clouds in Hebei Province are cold, the west wind is blowing, and the flute next to it is sad. It is said that old grievances and new grievances are always unfounded, who can ask, Jiuchongquan. ○ Feeling sad about the scene, I regretted posting the note. Soul-breaking moves, mournful bursts of Zhu Xian. It was expected that someone would collect bones by the river at night. Who would pity the parrot?
[Autumn Night Rain]
The sound of horns and yellow clouds are everywhere, and people are leisurely asking what night it is. The east wind is frivolous. I am so annoyed that my writing style is so beautiful. ○The jade dragon's song of resentment is fragrant far away, and there is news about plum blossoms and plum blossoms. After drinking, I shed tears and recited the candle inspection and the new calendar of the Han family.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest are so eye-catching. When the road is cut off, who calls Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. There are few people in the jade world, only a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute of resentment is the sound of flying. I complained to the east wind, but it was still drifting.
[Picking Hongying]
Guan Yunhei. The edges are sandy white. There was no news after Jinxian left. Who sings. The strings of the zither ring. There is a sound of imperial edicts, and the moon tilts across the felt tent. ○Crazy traces. No one knows. The singing brings us to Chang'an. On a high building. Leaning on the railing and looking. There is no place for the soap carving, and the flying fox is in the party.
[Tea Ping'er]
For ten years, my clothes have been dusty and dusty, and the jade plum blossoms in my hometown are sparse. Whoever has the clearest way to recruit the soul of the flowers will cook the food and go to the five lakes alone. ○The moon shines brightly in the snow window while I sleep in sorrow, the east wind blows and the Ba Bridge is locked in spring. The smoked cage is nestled against the remaining fire of the night cultivation. It is still warm and the peppers are red and broken.
[Drunk Hanging Whip]
When I wake up, the cold fragrance invades, and there are three liang of flowers on the West Pond. The small calyx is gradually suitable for a hairpin, and a pair of proud green birds. ○The plum blossoms are falling, the wind is getting stronger, and the spring is over again. Only the heart of cherishing spring is infinitely deeper than spring.
[Langtaosha Two Songs]
is more than drifting, accompanying the autumn lanterns. There was a loud sound when thinking about the mountain. No one wants to hear how many tears I have shed when I have spent all my time in Hunan. ○If it is love, there will be sorrow and joy. The remaining dreams of the ten continents are not clear. Don't ask about the hateful notes and worry about the ink, and draw pictures from Wucheng.
Why buy money for sex, just sleep in peace. Laosheng's life experience was like a cicada. A pillow on Shuangxi Mingyue Road, a three-version sailboat. ○The sad letter reaches the edge of the gull, and the clouds and water flow along the edge. The east wind has an appointment and is happy. The lonely bamboos in the mountains are sober, and the new year will come tomorrow.
[Eight Tones of Ganzhou Four]
The west wind is cut off, the clogs are broken in the heart of the mountain, and the wild geese cannot move in the cold. It is right to carry a chanting pen, the golden city willow will be old, and the jade dew will be hurt by the maple. I asked the tired guest in Beijing where he came from when he was sober. Autumn is full of human life, and there are vicissitudes of life in an instant. ○ There are no traces of light gulls in the air, and I even lean on the building to look in the mirror, but I still waste time discussing it. With the remaining tears in the rivers and lakes, who is the yellow chrysanthemum? And near the flowers, high on the dangerous fence, if there is a long rope, it is still tied to the setting sun. Don't lose, sit high at night, rush with arrows.
Counting every year, the fifth day is too desolate, but this year is a joy.The plum blossom wind blows thinly, the apple smoke rolls up the curtain, and the water pavilion is weak and cold. The pu in Shengjiantang is getting old, and the fragrant wine cup is wide. If you don't know how to chant, it will be difficult to wake up and get drunk. ○The troubles are ridiculous and the wall is full of nonsense. I hate Xiangyuan with all the chapters and sentences of Lanquan. Laughing at the tired travelers in the south of the Yangtze River, I am leisurely in love with the boat. Waiting to linger, hairpins and talismans are used to save things, and flying rain on rivers and bridges urges them back at dusk. Outside the hanging poplar trees, there are scattered welcome drums and light waves.
Leaning on the cangyan rock, the spring robe is blowing in the half-dark sky. Thousands of servant girls mess with stars. Believe in the advice of the idle monk, the path is sticky with fragrance, and the green city is desolate. The barbarians of the motherland are far away, and the broken net becomes more fishy. Eliminate the sense of prosperity and death, a tower of ringtones. ○Have you recruited the Autumn Soul? To the cold sky, it's hard to wake up from a thirsty dream. Asking what the strings are, the ancient Taiwan is green with tears. Beautiful lakes and mountains, wandering alone and feeling lazy, and lamenting in the wind and playing the flute in front of the pavilion. Walking away, there is a small sloping corridor with flat moss on both sides.
The spring is lingering, the illness and wine are approaching dusk, and the east wind is colder than autumn. We are looking at the red building across the gauze, with the lanterns floating and the rain approaching. If the catkins fall and the flowers cannot fly, it’s a good idea to take a year off. The river knows people's wishes and welcomes tears flowing westward. ○There is only singing and dancing on a high platform, and it is easy to try on half-makeup, but it is difficult to take pictures in a hurry. I look down upon the carved beams as if I were a guest, and wonder who the swallows are staying for. The waves are rising, and the world is full of dust. I'm afraid I won't be able to board the Mulan boat. The road in front of the curtain turns green and grassy, gradually causing melancholy.
[Yuchi Cup]
is in danger. Take a look and go south to see the shadow. Autumn sounds, thousands of leaves are dry with frost, and the sky is dark with clouds. The lonely quilt is crowded at night, the candles are broken, and the guests wake up worried. They also fight for knowledge and cry bitterly. The wild wind blows through the lonely tree. ○ Should read the Beidou Jinhua, the demon star is broken in the jejunum, and the fighting spirit is still condensed. The heart is calm and ashes are all gone, and hatred and sorrow burst out randomly. When will I send you off? The clouds will sail to the corners of the sea. I will cuddle up next to you and cry at the end of the world. When the stem asks what, it is like the sound of Du Qu singing and the sound of Bauhinia blowing on the old mountain path.
[Two Songs of Tianxiang]
The green partridge collects its spots, the jade dragon spits, like clouds, who can crush them. The small bamboo stick is heavy with fragrance, and the two smokes are in the same breath, creating a hint of warmth and light spring. The flowers are sent away by the wind, the doubts are quiet, and the orchid is in a new state. There is still a silver armor on his finger, and a string of warm beads in his arms. ○ Manxun is filled with secret sorrow, and it is expected that Xijia and Cui Xian will change in spring. Wisps of clouds from the east of the sea are half lost in the remaining seal script, and the handsome clothes are lingering in the bonfire. I am afraid that it will be difficult to call, but the beautiful soul of Pengshan has returned, waiting to send my lovesickness, and the dream is far away.
It is made of celadon, with green curtains and green curtains. It is crisp and beautiful in the evening. (Outside and inside) The leaves are clean, the palace is yellow and the musk deer is beginning, and the little fu makes people suspicious of drunkenness. The elements are slender and delicate, the dew is clear and wet, and the pearls are worn in autumn. The hairpin string is newly decorated with tin millet, and the old clothes are blended with sandalwood. ○The spring is about to bake at one o'clock, and I talk about my life experience in a miserable and miasmatic country. Who knows that the old fragrance fades away, and the tears gradually condense, and the lonely night wakes up like water. Afraid of chaos and unmanageable tassel dreams, I sink from Jiannan, and my heart is tired.
[Seven Songs for Touching Fish]
The food list in front of the strange Lord is sparse. Who cares about the fragrant vegetables? The green cage is silent and hates the wind far away, and worries about the official announcement. The news is wrong, and I am afraid that Jiang Guo will be the first one, and Chun will be nowhere to be found. The most bitter taste in poetry is the bitterness of the mud in the frozen garden, the smoke in the forest and the rain, can you expect the swallows to come? ○ Countryside dream, chewing the frost a few times, losing the flavor of Sakura Kitchen. Thousands of acres of flat breasts are lost, and the root festival is cold every year. Tiao'an Road. When asked, I will take off my spring clothes in the Ming Dynasty. A message from the end of the world. After the ice moss is hoeed, the jade fiber is strong and strong, and it is also served with stewed fish.
It was almost dusk and there was no wind or rain, and spring had returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tone. Don't worry about it anymore, ask me, how much sorrow has been brewing in one hundred and five years? There are new looks and old smiles, there are dismantled embroidered ponds, enchanting forest orioles, and half-broken manuscripts for decoration. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. Too early to return! Why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind? Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes the shade. Who will fall with the Jade Mountain?
Occupies a dark corner of the city, and some people will hold grudges forever. The scholar's eyes were full of tears, and he cut through the mist of Haidong. The soil on the grave was trampled all over South Bridge Road for fear that wine could be poured on it. The British tour is late for you. If you are far away from Sheng He and Qian Guang, who will complain about your worries? ○It’s hard to ask, is it wrong to be a Confucian? With his writing power, he is like a crossbow. The bronze lute brings joy without distinction, and enjoys the journey of this life. At the place of mourning, the hat is broken and the donkey is tired, looking at the Qianqiu clouds. The cuckoo is the most bitter! I want a green mountain without a master, and there are spiritual poets who come to listen to the heartbroken words.
The wind and rain subsided near dusk, and spring has returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tune. Don't worry about it anymore, just ask how much autumn is brewing in one hundred and five years. New smiles and old smiles. There are dismantled embroidery pools and embroidered ponds, which are fascinated by the orioles and swallows in the forest, and are decorated with half-broken manuscripts. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. It's too early to return home, why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind. Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes a shade. Who can fall with the jade mountain?
The miserable rain drops from the first update to the next, and people in the world are left to their own devices. If you are tired of traveling and are familiar with the taste of rivers and lakes, you can't get sick and pregnant. Before the chanting, I was surrounded by solitary shadows and lanterns. Leaving the soul secretly teasing. In the year of forbidden fire, just look at the heart of the clouds, and things will burst out after the night clock. ○The promise of returning to the mountains, after the spring cuckoo cries, the light sail still lives up to its expectations. In the twenty-year anniversary of Yanqiu, many tears were shed on the sleeves. Believe it or not, it is not common to burn candles and join the bed. Ten acres of apple blossoms. Discussing the need for medicine, preparing dowry documents, and the elders are staying together.
I am too lazy to explore Yu Fangxin, and I am idle every year. Only the forest is still full of clouds and thousands of trees, and the beauty is in the spring Luoqi. The red sky is still covered by a layer of light, and there is only a thin layer of smoke. The east wind is blowing. It is not as quiet as the source of immortality. If you live in a small house, you will make a plan to avoid Qin. ○The dream of Xuandu, the fun of Kinmen games, the dream brings back the melancholy of this world! There is no fragrance or color in the Huawan Tian. How can we say that the Taoist temple is in ruins? Leaning in the air, the joy is light and the fragrance does not hurt the feeling of spring. Liu Lang is tired! No matter how many questions are written on the paper, there are no good words, and I burst into tears when I feel so happy!
asked Xihu, Hushan and Xinmei, who among them is Hejing. The plum blossom family has a thousand-year dream, and the family tradition of virgins lives in the cold. If you have no time to think about it, I recommend a cold spring. Recognize it from the deserted monument. Smoke hoe rain boat. It also takes the moon to move the roots, build according to the rock, and cook to the fragrant shadow. ○The story of the painting is a case of uncertainty, and I woke up under the flowers of the soul chanting. Renovating the temple becomes abrupt, and it is evident from where to live. Standing in the high pavilion, he composed the jade dragon's mournful song and no one listened. Hengfeng side ridge. The red calyx is left speechless, the silk clothes fly down, and the clear tears correspond to it.
[Guizhixiang]
Dinggu flood dawn, Zhengshui market sells fresh food, and the black boat arrives. Ji Ji's silver sword danced freely, and the three men threw their smoke hoods. On a cold night near Chang'an, I asked you how much jade saliva you have. The porcelain plate urges you to eat, the poem comforts you, and you chant in vain. ○Remember the local flavor and tune Sister-in-law Song. After a few pauses to think about it, it should be a good idea. Aoyu heard the guest's words all over the place, and she embraced them sadly. The dream of chilled food comes from the kitchen, and the food check list is messy and careless. The royal note is cold, the sorrow is easy to care for, and the jade scales are silent.
[Three Songs from Suan Shanxi]
The mournful strings prompt the beat, and the strings are broken all over Yinzhou. Who changes the small plum blossoms? Dreaming of horizontal branches and the fragrance of the cold night. It is a windy and snowy year, and Sanjiu is the most important thing for love. Outside the bamboo repair, in front of the beautiful window, I do some idle homework. ○Now that I am haggard, are the flowers worth my sorrow? I'm as drunk as mud, I respect you so much, you're like a worm. When the book from the south of the Yangtze River arrives, the gulls and herons are still safe. Two wax clogs and a fishing coop, when will they really be returned to me?
took shelter from the wind and fled to Lao Gaoqiao City. I have been wandering for twenty years, full of spring waves and old feelings. The wind sings with the woodcutter, and I carry a cup across the fence. Cherish the meaning and see the branch nest. The time is free and the gull is happy. ○ Dust Fan Haijiao, there is no doubt that there are no traces of cutting. The old man's family has a single tree, and it is difficult to continue the red plum blossoms and colorful topics. The sky is heavy with frost, and the heart of the old mountain is haggard. Three acres of house, five lakes and sails, I'm afraid of talking about Tu Qiu's plan.
The light curtain is lifted four times, and the moon is lifted early. Hungry mosquitoes are buzzing around my temples, little hazy, and garden crows are urging me to wake up. It rains on the eaves, and the robes are rolled up by the red beams. New wine cup, short lamp. Cooking makes Qiu Xiao laugh. ○The coolness of the sun covers your hands, and the light shines dimly. Constantly in the heart of the old mountain, blown by the west wind, it grows old year after year. Feihong will dream of climbing to a high building overnight. Carrying a jade flute and asking about the golden stem, no one knows the meaning.
[Jiangdu Chun]
The east wind is turning, the strange fragrance is thin, and the cold is still lingering. Missing the beauty of the mirror, it is neither flowers nor mist. The old love is leisurely. Furong didn't believe it hurt Chunqian. Resentful of the red building, desolate into double bends. After Mengyun returned, he was busy embroidering and picking orchids. ○Unexpected. Near the bottom of Pingshan Mountain, there are traces of sadness and tears stained by alcohol. Broken spectrum and careful business, the Qin Zheng leaning column and the dust are dim. The heart of spring has no one to care for overnight. Bear him the bright moon and the sad cuckoo. When Guigong was ashamed for several years, half of the millet was exposed.
[Jinmingchi]
The silk is split and the waves are flowing, and the clothes are called to the couple. The road to Yaochi is very close. The dust is gone, the ice box is half unfolded, and Lu is crying slightly. The powder has not faded. What year is it? Brocade and silk threads occupy the painting. Thirty-six Pi Fang news. Looking at the pavilion leaning against the cover, there are countless mandarin ducks, but no one from Lingbo is allowed to ask. ○ The westerly wind twists and turns every inch, looking for the intoxicating fairy juice, and the blue tube draws deep. The dance of neon clothes is repeated tonight, and the shadow of tears will be blown away tomorrow morning. I am full of lovesickness and beauty, but my empty house is empty and my stone scales are filled with hatred. I'm afraid that at the top of Yujing Peak, the moon is dim and the smoke is pale, and the green is damaged by the lingering fragrance.
[Great Holy Music]
Indulge in wine and make-up, touch the stele gallery and be quiet, Brahma Spring Festival Gala. Remembering old travels, wearing hats on the west railing, living up to the beauty of one's own work, and looking at it with both eyes. The warm jade leans against the clouds and is delicate and weak. It touches people's places and fills their sleeves with the fragrance of heaven. Forgetting to go back, the oil curtain was half-opened, and the sun was setting in the courtyard. ○The orioles are worried and have short dreams, but in one case, the beautiful garlands urge them to change. In the cool rain near the stone building, the disabled monk also said that the agarwood has new resentments. The east wind spectrum of Luoyang is wet with tears. I am afraid that it will be exhausted and become a deer garden withered red. The city is full of hatred, but also melancholy, and the shelter from the wind is shallow.
[Two Songs of Emperor Tai Chun]
Fang Xiao’s twists and turns, the old life of a flower farmer. The Grain Rain is half sunny, the embroidered sills are scrambling to move, and the palace clothes are slightly taken off. Putting the hat in the hand and passing the note with a smile, all the entertainment, thanking the man and chanting the bag. Even now, the waste green and flat smoke can only be smelled. ○The dusty shadow is glimpsed, and the eyes are confused. Tears piled up, stained with cuckoo blood. Afraid of the greedy tail, the beauty of the year is close to the setting sun, the weather is not right, it is easy to say goodbye. What's more, the east wind's roads have changed from the old ones. There is only a piece of Qiongtian left, and the people of Miaochun are Luo.
The bamboos on the hills are yellow, and the auspicious clouds are shining in the southern country. Autumn is clear in Yinghai. I heard that this year, the peaches will begin to bear fruit. Fortunately, Jin Ying's exposed place persuades people to get drunk, and the springs in Lixiang are clean. Talking about Chunhui, Zishe's mood is stimulated by Yunfan. ○The hall is bright and colorful. Standing on the wings of the phoenix, the forehead is charming. From the Forbidden City, Immortal Lang returns in colorful clothes, and wishes you a warm spring in Antarctica. It is expected that the Yaotai genealogy family celebration will be held, and the fragrance will be poured into the golden cup to warm the immortal liquid. I pay my respects to my mother every year, and I recognize the curtains of veils and clouds.
[Eight Convicts and Jade Crossing Branches]
The dusty grits are desolate, the frozen Suxiang is fragrant, and there are clusters of light shade and double frames. The curtains are rolled and the branches are red to the eyes, and the vicissitudes of old hatred are lingering. Spring Festival Gala every year. For the flowers, the piano is honored, and the title is also happy to be in the hometown. The green birds at the bottom of the leaves are used to listening to the sweet words of tea. ○Who walks in the east wind, and the green clouds fade. The butterfly and bees are so heavy that they should be surprised. Junyou changes, whose family is happy. The water is inexhaustible, and the pavilion is full of smoke and smoke. Just dance outside the flowers and have nothing to say. The person holding the rose weeps at the widow's night. When Qin Lang is sober from drinking, the jade paper is wet with tears and sad, making it difficult to write.
[Dream Hengtang]
Fishing in the autumn snow, walking in the slanting sun, the coolness of the wild pond is beginning to set. The shadow has disappeared, replaced by pu barnyard grass and spring waves. Who will move the low boat? Sitting alone in the short boat, I feel alarmed by the frost on my temples. I am confused again, and I am making new sorrows, and I still drift to Xianchi Pavilion. ○Microwaves do not pass through the tide, causing dust and turbulence, and the cold catkins are very thin. The west wind rolls the leaves, gently blows in, and makes several mournful horns. Don't even ask, who can trust the wild geese in the rivers and lakes? Cangzhou in the dream is generally clear and shallow, with red mulberry flowers falling.
[Three Songs of Night Flying Magpies]
The east wind carries people away, inviting you to step into Chanyuan, and your beauty shines in the Zen sky. The flower palace brings the test, the little man's face is flushed and blushing. Qingcheng is speechless, as if her makeup is thin, her hair is in a bun and she cries frugally. The green seal begs again, and the setting sun still protects the pearl banner. ○What's the matter? Wan Shu is so delicate and sleepy that she has nowhere to go and asks Xingyun, the twelve witches and servant girls. It is said that the flat spring is like a dream, just like human and heaven, it is replaced by a beautiful garland. The old hatred of Jincheng is reflected in the poetry of Biji Square. The late night is left alone, with tears on the copper plate and candles, and the sad companionship of the golden fairy.
Cangbo is relieved, and the boat is returning gently, and the wind leaves are scattered in the cup. A guest's pillow in the autumn. After waking up from the drunkenness, I climbed up and opened my tired eyes again. The wild smoke is clear and the sky is full of fragrant flowers and trees, and the air of the sea is breathtaking. Ice and ice danced, calling Ninglong to look directly at Penglai. ○How many red mulberry trees are like arches? I asked with a bonfire pen what year it was, and was it really possible to cut the bead cliff? If you don’t believe that Qiujiang sleeps peacefully, your whale-catching skills will linger forever. The sun sets on the flag, turning thousands of mountains into ashes. And the west wind brings the cranes chirping, causing alarm at night, and the waves come with hundreds of twists and turns.
The golden wave warms the leaning man, the flowing light shines on the Pingshan Mountain, and the birch candle disperses the cold smoke. The beaded curtain is about to go up, and the beauty is gone. Whose house is this tonight? When the windows are filled with clouds and mist, neon clothes are dancing wildly, and the sky is changing. Riding the wind and sweating, I asked Qionglou how it looked like the human world. ○The fairy ax of the troubled Gui Palace, the seven treasures are still in Lingxu, adorning Chanjuan. Outside the fence, the autumn fragrance weeps and the dew falls, and the moving plate clears the tears, disappearing the golden fairy. Guanghan Palace is a palace, for fear that Chang'e will not be allowed to linger. Who can share the lonely light? It can’t be used as a lamp, looking north is desolate.
[Linglong Four Offenses and Three Poems]
The old clogs and teeth are fragrant, the dust and gauze are left with ink, and things are like water. The smoke and moon are in my old home, and I can stand leaning on the railing. Under the shadow of self-pity, there is an east wind, accompanying people to tears. In my dream, Chanyuan, the orioles and butterflies who survived the calamity, knew what I wanted to write. ○Looking forward to the return of spring from the end of the world. Ask Xun Xiangdu Qu, who will understand the new hatred? Seeing that poetry and wine are thinning, it should be connected to the sound of cuckoo. Don't hold candles in the Western Garden at night, but climb and pick ordinary peaches and plums. Must remember. Spring roots are there, and the old ground is red with thousands of flowers.
Wu Mian has not been reduced, and he is sleeping in the West Garden. The news reminds him that he is late. There is smoke in the stove on one sleeve, the long pavilion is filled with sadness, and the sky outside seems to be dark and gloomy. Feeling cold, return to Yan in front of the society. Ask the mirror edge how many lead tears, do not thank the bridge dust points. ○The cries of green birds illuminate half of the mountain screen. The harbinger of spring is gone and the catkins are in front of you. The red building has embroidered foil and floating lanterns at night, and the east wind is light. In the dream of cooking sick bones, it is gradually no longer the case. There is no choice but to wait for the appeal, and the new voice is astringent and uneven.
The water dream is cold, the flowers are covered with frost, how can the gulls pass away in the sky? Count the green peaks and make shadows, and the wine washes away the ancient Wu Tai. He Lang's old love has not yet been revealed. There is also an east wind and a painting of boats in Yanpu. The spring soul is filled with tears, the socks are dusty, and the old jade dragon is bitter. ○The traveling clouds fill Chuihong Road. Reminiscent of the sparse fragrant steps, low bun to welcome the door. Come and go with Luo Xiu, and fly away from the cold as soon as possible. The clear song is at ease in the world, sending off leisurely travelers and secluded spring travelers. Sad message.There is no one to spare, and the old couple wears their skirts.
[Desolate criminal]
Qingqin resentment enters. After the west wind, the dust condenses and the ice ropes are broken. Whether the big move is good or not, the river sky is late, and there are several mourning horns. The dragon's anger is evil. Thousands of miles of darkness, the heart of the countryside is thin. Strange fluttering waves, broken ink on the streams and mountains, and a wild goose crossing the empty desert. ○My heart is broken, Tong Jun is not there, I occasionally have dinner with the clouds, and I feel more sad and happy. Therefore, the mountain dream is short, the strings burst out and the mausoleum shakes down. A reed stretches the edge, and the material Xifa sings and the soul falls in love. Listen to the sound of pine trees, Nanari Seo, and break the Old Testament.
[Yu Jingqiu]
is full of fragrance. There are old orioles and swallows in the joyful place, dancing and singing. The wind is full of emotions, and I am worried about the flowers and leaves of books. A wonderful score of "Red Teeth", recorded as a reminder of the feast. Farewell to tiredness. The next year, I was filled with regret, and I talked carelessly over the cup. ○It’s not about being arrogant and cowardly. Writing about the heart of the piano, the six pieces are gradually missing. The broken dream tower, the middle-aged silk and bamboo, can't help but decline. In the Year of the White Turtle, it is still a sad time to resolve grievances and Tianbao. The sound of the flute swallows, who is leaning against the palace wall under the dark moon?
[Thirteen Songs to Congratulate the Bridegroom]
Frozen feathers peek into the cold layer. At dusk, the sound sounds like complaining, and the dust of musk deer is frightened. The powdery terrace is full of lovesickness at night, and the skinny and fairy-like posture is green. Gradually tears drop, Yin Shen Hong Shu. No one has swept the corals all over the ground, occupying the frosty sky and hurting the spring weather. Shadows in the sky are against the remaining candles. ○The moss-covered servant girl is still decorated with jade. When asked, the palace makeup is applied on the forehead, and the mirror alliance is repeated. How many Feiqiong have been hated for years and written down in the remaining pages of Cangzhou. Afraid of being restrained by the east wind. The road in front of the snow-scented pavilion is left in the cold, and I exchange green birds and listen to ecstasy. The intestines are broken, and the bamboo is stuck.
The boat equipment of the lower palace. Next to the Cangjiang River, I have been lying there for many years, and the west wind is traveling alone. Not close to the center of the game, there is still no way out. Winning in vain, Lan Cheng Ci Fu. The ink on the sleeves is dripping with tears in Shenzhou, even if Han Ling and Pian Shi are poor, they can't sing, and their single silk threads are bitter. ○There is no good place in Zhuxi. Just whispering, the cuckoo bows again and bows his head. The air of the sea is desolate and the dragons are evil, and I am tired of crossing withered chaffs. There are still dreams, and the lamp bed is windy and rainy. Distributed to follow the affairs of the Ming Dynasty and asked Jiang Qian and Oulu if they were safe. Must be rewarded, ruler fish element.
The dangerous building is exposed. Looking at the Central Plains, the sculptures are nowhere to be seen, but the green mountains are rising. The west wind across the sea stirred up the dust and rolled it into the dead leaves of Guan Yu. It is still covered and fixed, and the floating clouds are clear and extinguished. The road ahead of the Thirteen Screens of Beacon Light shines on Wu Lu and Zhi Who's Moon, and Liao He is whimpering as he speaks. ○We heard spring thunder coming from the corner of the palace. It's always hard to wake up, I'm dreaming about ten continents, I sit and read in the mulberry field. The unjust bird with a stone in its mouth cannot bear the cold, and its eyes are full of autumn whale scales. No wonder, it was the first calamity of Kunchi. It is common to hide a boat in a gully, but I am afraid that the yellow and yellow pillars will touch the common work and break it. The sky is leaning against the sky, and the sword is broken.
count the rain in the fence. The wet years are like dust and dreams, and the sound of wild geese is about to disappear. The autumn moon is misty and hazy, and the moss flowers are hidden in the evening steps. More clothes, cold and cold. The chrysanthemums in Mofei's hometown are crying, accompanied by lonely clouds, and the old man is lying on the Cangjiang River at dusk. With this intention, he asked the gulls and herons. ○ Yingying Yishui was speechless. As time goes by, the sand is dim and the rocks are cold, who will control the old alliance? Try to look down at the clear ripples and take a look at the faded temples, which still carry ten years of dust. All that is left is opposition and charming. All things are done together, but I am just lazy, and I support the bamboo pole and count all the trees in the east of the pond. When the crows rise, who will they dance for?
hands plant forward trees. With a virtual corridor and a corner of the setting sun, people who read it are speechless. I begged to my neighbor in the west for the axe, and he once shared the dragon's pardon to get it. Look at how the jade stands and the pavilion look like. Today, as I leave the silver bedside, I ask Gu Gen if he is willing to go near the dragon gate. One leaf after another, fighting against the wind and rain. ○The crickets cry and complain to each other. Speaking of the past year, the reds and greens are miserable, but who is in charge of the good autumn? The ground is covered with frost and the sky is white, and the phoenix perched on the ground is lost in the place. It is considered clean and still has my soil. Sitting in sleep clears the yin and clears things, and it is necessary to keep the roots firmly cultivated during the cold years. This is the intention of the alliance, and the pure wine is pure.
No wonder I am declining. Counting Alien and Zuo Huxuan, they are all on the same level. The life of the lake and the sea is light, and it is quite disappointing for the cold night. Trace back the hatred, the gorge flows and the water flows. There is still a room in Cangjiang that can be arranged as soon as one sleeps, and the wind and rain are combined with the bed plan. The autumn colors are here, and the geese are flying. ○The fragrant clouds of seal script are rising. Wait for discussion, return to the heart and ask questions, listen to and think about the great master. How close is Tiaoshan's house? It's just a hut and a stone field. And cause trouble and get drunk on local cuisine. The four seas are born from the true key. After many vicissitudes of life, it is difficult for brothers to laugh at themselves. My intention is to entrust you, Xiaoshan Gui.
is used to being drunk on longevity wine. It is the predecessor, Anqi flying boat, floating hills and sleeves. Ding Ding has been lonely for hundreds of years, willing to hold his claws on his hands. Ask whether Yingying and Erhao know. It goes without saying that Mingke's subtle principle is that three cups and two cups will end up being too much. Hold this intention for your longevity. ○Xianjun has nothing to do but a rhinoceros head. Everything is suitable, thousands of games are measured, and the flowers are in full bloom every day. It is not necessary for generations to realize this joy, it is rare for people today. The sun is shining brightly, and the gardens are like embroidery. The truly healthy people in the Four Seas will stay together forever with their white hair and red cheeks. He even danced to Hua You.
is released from the sky. In this area, there is chaff, dust, and dirt, and there is no sign of self. As a guest of Fenghuang Pond, my colorful brushes have had a great time.But win and look forward to it forever. The world has changed and the clouds have changed into thousands of states, but the old mountain, the ape and the crane are still intact. Qualification said, the five lakes are beautiful. ○Senior style and long pine-like appearance. I am envious of this dynasty, and the purple zhi is enough to nourish itself. Whoever plays the song "He Nan Fei" will be the king of gods and immortals. It looks like a pedestrian, and the jade mountain is bright. This old man has no loose chest, he laughs, chats, and even sings loudly. If you don't use it, just brew it in a urn.
is not a master. Geng rest, the pine breeze is full of listening, the prime minister in the mountains. When you are excited, you can pick it up like a magic pen and realize the fragrance of crossing the river. It is inevitable to look at Gao Qiu in despair. I wish that all sentient beings and me will be fine. Ask around for free, and the seeds of medicine will grow. ○Don’t think it looks like dead wood. There is no need to use it, and Ji will give rise to high opinions, and the Tao function can be cultivated. When it comes to mending the sky and filling the sea, Ze Zhi is still the God King. When asked, the three lights will be bright again. Half drunk, every time I look at the Nandou, I can feel the west wind blowing in the waves of wine. All sorrow is gone, worth a thousand wines.
is self-explanatory. According to the arrangement and Huang's annotation, the bones are sour and cold. This piece is most suitable to be placed in a hill and valley, and is not called Lingyan's portrait. There are scattered buns and slanted hairpins facing each other. Let’s pay homage to the San people’s new call to arms, hoping that the world will be safe forever. Cangzhou is interesting and the days should be long. ○The headscarf is too lazy to follow the example of the Zhou family. Accompanying the princes, Yin Zun cooks and makes offerings with smoke from the furnace. Li Saoxu drinks heavily with his hands, and the wine is hot in his ears and the king of gods is drunk. Even more rare, the situation is cheerful. When Er'anqi's spiritual energy is exhausted, nothing can shake Wulingyuan. Walk with the load in hand, sit down and pour the wine.
puts the dragon and snake with bare hands. The land of pain sinks, Shenzhou appears, and the devil changes his form. I advise you, Changxing, to have a glass of wine, and what will happen to your eyes? There is a thread and a spear to look forward to. How many new pavilions have shed tears and asked who is okay with the rivers, mountains and scenery? Sorrow is like grass, but the strokes are still long. ○The buildings are renovated everywhere. Man Pingzhang and Boyi Pirates are raised by talented people. Whoever wants you to come and take care of your affairs will be king in about three chapters each. Can't wait to see the sky clear and sunny. Whoever destroys a beautiful home will lose his gold, silver, energy and sky. Eliminate the day's plan and rely on the wine.
kills orchids with one arrow. Through the curtain, the faint fragrance accounts for the break, and the fragrance smells of treasure. If you want to write about love, you have no time to write, and the empty valley will disappear for a long time. Exhibition of Hunan mat, ripples full of hope. Listen to the rain and sleep alone in the Wangyou Pavilion. The smoke of the medicine and the wind calm the person's slight illness. If the water leaks, it will wax and wane. ○My worries are still the same as ever. Let him lose, open and close the Taoist books, and make offerings to the wells and flowers. It’s good to return to your roots and stay happily, why bother with the King of Dansha Qi? With only two eyes left, I can read and read books. A volume of frost-covered fragments of music reverberates in the human world and in the hearts of autumn scholars. Press again to shoot and try brewing.
As soon as the boat was released, it was arranged and anointed with spring stones and dust. Yuan Yutang waved his hand, but Jia Rang was the one who made the three strategies. The scene of the carved silk and the announcement of the house is in the foreground. Huge waves whipped up the sky, and the wind roared, and the sails were gathered in good condition. Go back and get it, the water and clouds will grow. ○The courtyard steps are like Qi Chun Miao. Who can be more like, Dihua and Wei, Zhilan Jingshuang. Regardless of the family heirloom secrets, the king of Zhu Yan is the king. Be sure to forget and follow the immortal battle. Leading his disciples to produce sons, they have baskets and carriages, but do not use ivy sticks. Cranes flying south, singing for you.
[Two Flute Songs under the Moon]
The ruins are used to live in smoke, the clear bells are in the dark, and the place where they used to be is the place where they used to be. The sound of sand birds is soft, still in love with the coming and going of the east wind. Bu Wu is sad first, and hates the rain regardless of the sky. I patted all the fences, the lonely clouds disappeared, and the mountains were speechless. ○Emotions. The setting sun sets at dusk. Don't worry about the end of the world, old gulls and new herons. After years of no travel, the feeling is miserable again. It's not a spring disease before the flowers. I asked the wandering warbler next to me if I have ever? To be sued, Geng Lang has only one heart, a poplar tree is declining.
The cold moon is overcast on the wall, and there is a sad and sad sound, speaking for autumn. When I listen to you, I feel sad and have no thoughts. The empty steps are full of sadness, and the lights are dim and the rain is cut off. In the middle of the night, winds are everywhere, and the frost string is trailing alone, urging the dawn. ○ Worry about mistakes, trapped in gold. The long door is accompanied by fallen leaves, and the letter on the pillow is vague. After weaving, the old home is in disarray. The cold west wind changes the human world, how many times have I asked the haggard king and grandson? After all, Pan Langfa has changed, who should I send my dream to?
[Tail offender]
A flute is falling in the plum breeze, the empty hall is empty at night, and the thoughts of spring are floating over. The door is covered with agarwood, and the lanterns are decorated with flowers. At the end of Gui Yan's reign, Wen Liang did not sweep, but he was shocked and all the empty strings were broken. The old love has no basis, and as old age passes away, there is only a sigh. ○Qin Zheng surrounds the embroidered house. He should be unsolved and hate to say goodbye. The grass is dim and the smoke is dim, and I miss the vastness of the sky. Counting past events, uneven flowing water, patting railings, clearing lead and dark knots. Tired people and melancholy are not always surrounded by the moon.
[Two Songs of Flowers on Moshang]
The caged oriole awakens, Pingshan is still asleep, and the Spring Festival Gala is in front of us. After a while, I sold it to Xie Niangchi Pavilion. What's the use of Xifang's note? The east wind outside the flower is broken. The new yin is not yet stable, there are countless tears, and the dream clouds drift away. ○ I am thin due to longing for love, my palace waist is a little wider, but my clothes are half as wide. It may not be the end of the world, but it’s time to think about the cold and the warmth.Over the years, the zither hand has been damaged, and the dust is covered with thirteen golden geese. The sorrowful strings are lingering beside me, the green window is full of sunlight, the old love is so lazy.
The poplar flowers have all fallen, the moss has eroded, and the dust has condensed. Biyi's soul returns, the ice pillow is stranded with tears. Where is Dai Chun when the servant girl is gone? Nineteen years have been spent in vain. The most unreasonable thing is thousands of miles away, and the new practice turns into a fairy. ○The flower inscriptions are covered with grass, and the wild geese are cut off in the cold weather. They are just called listening to the wind and rain. The beautiful shadow is in the high Tang Dynasty, and the incense ashes return to the soul without any evidence. Bieluan composed a thousand qin music in vain, Meng Leng only played one string and one column. Caolili gives away, just like Yangzhou, jade fishing slopes.
[San Shumei and Four Songs]
On Qingsi Hengyuan Road, it is dimly lit at the end of the forest, and smoking is still prohibited. Calling guests mountain birds, wandering and feeling tired, exploring words and phrases about spring. The wild water is sharp, leading to new steps across the bank. Jiuhuan is dim and dim, with only plum blossoms, which seduce people's mood. ○It is the fragrant travel that lightens the burden. The small calyx is left sparse and the hairpin is left. Who will protect the frozen fragrance? The dream is familiar with Xifeng, and the clouds are wet with hatred, and the spring elements are secretly condensed. It's very sad, but it also arouses jealousy and makes people jealous. Asking for news from Xiangtai, the wind chimes whisper.
After a cold meal in Jiangcheng, it is difficult to pour out the deep respect, and the sorrow is like wine. The dream traces the tower, half the willows are withered and the flowers are haggard, and the spring embroidery is dark in the dust. Sitting on the dark curtain, you can see the shadows of your steps and smell the red fragrance three times. The golden strands are gone, and the empty branches are picked, and the jade fibers are exposed through the ice. ○The Yaohua in the sky have not been together for a long time, I am holding Qin Zheng in my arms, and the bright sun is shining thinly. Tears rained down the window, Jing Luan saw it with his own eyes, and his eyebrows were full of illness. It is taboo to say that it is cold in spring, so take it into consideration and rely on your high sleeves. Ruining the empty pear garden, Dongfeng admits it?
The lantern-burning season has passed, the river is cloudy in spring, and the plum blossoms are in the sky. Stepping on the dark smoke, I can remember the traces of the old words, lying drunk with the red maple. Tired of empty mountains, travel plans are repeated, and the east wind opposes them. The traces of cooking poems, the falling rain and the Wu cup, make people wake up and sit down. ○My life experience is full of flowers and sorrow. I want to make a date with a leisurely gull and eliminate the dust by myself. The snow is old and the waves are deserted, and the flutes are left with their thoughts, and the birds are crowing. Thinking of farewell hurts spring, but spring is already here. Don't send thousands of empty branches around, Yaotai dream lock.
The leisurely fragrance brightens the tired eyes, and the remaining cold forest pavilion is half-way through the spring. The smile is near the pond, revealing the old peach clothes, avoiding people's make-up. Standing in Yanxiang, flowers and letters change with the east wind. The wild water is scaly, but it is not as good as the golden cup, and the tea is deep and shallow. ○ I can get used to climbing up the stairs anywhere, so I can take the cold weather with me and feel sad and relaxed. To repay the scenery, I need water and smoke every time, and small poems to search for. Soft feet are fragrant, the moon is bright, and branches are lazy first. After sitting for a long time, the sunset is more beautiful than ever, and the wheel of return is turning.
[Two poems cited by Brahman]
The sloping bridge is fluffy, and the red stains are dotted with heavy hay. The careless oriole still talks about the end of spring. I heard that Lingbo's new steps cut off the embroidered dust. Use wax lamps and belts to fight for leisure. ○Chang'an beauties. Even if you wake up drunk, you will always be confused. The east wind does not care about the mess, it only avoids the flowers and anger. Wave curtains are green, dreams linger, and clouds rise on the embankment of lovesickness. The appointment between hairpin and mother always worries about the root cause.
The gauze scarf is tired, and the wind around the pond is making ice sheets. The city is cold and rainy. The curtain is rolled up in the sky and the mirror is made up in the evening. Nai Lin wakes up to Yu Yan, but is still jealous of leisurely feelings. ○The green floor of the south building. Stay away from being drunk and walk on the sand. Before the Qin Master's short dream came to an end, the sound of the bamboo flute was startled away. It's cool in the community beside the gulls, and it's dragging, and the autumn heart is half the garden. Fragrant scroll ink, self-display Luo Ping.
[Green cover dances in the wind]
A piece of cake calms the storm, tired eyes come on, and the dangerous fence faces the horizontal veil. The cool flute prolongs the autumn, the rivers and lakes have not returned yet, I am lightly drunk and leaning back. After the disaster, the soul chanted, and it was tied by the quilt and Pingsi. Dressed in red, the west wind blows across the shore, urging the autumn pistils to fall. ○Bottom of the cup. I am so lonely and happy, I can make clear waves by looking at my shadow, and wash away the dust on my short temples. The wine enters the lapel traces, and the good intentions are exchanged for the leisurely tears of old years. In Cangzhou in the dream, I don’t even believe it, and I have no roots. People crossing the river are sold out to see the heroic spirit of the flowers.
[Jiaozhao]
After seeing you off, Cangjiangwan and Wangfeng scratched their heads several times. The cold news in Yanbian is funny. Poyi Laofeng, when you are tired of traveling. The end of the world is not lost. Afraid of losing, there are weeping willows all around. There are plain rocks and clear springs. Nai Jinxi is in love with the jade, and there is no wine to clear away the sorrow. ○Do you know? The dust is rising. Yige cried in the wild, and the setting sun suddenly faded. Geng Lang's soul has been broken for a long time. Bursting into the south of the Yangtze River, the jade dragon mourns. Together with the frost. There is only a touch left, but the eyebrows are still the same. Mengyan swallows the candle in the west window and loses weight. Waiting for Shang Lue, white gull's heart, and heart.
[Cai Lv Yin]
Nephrite Wu Bolu, the painter points the pen, and the style is clear. There is smoke outside the flute, and the clear mirror is silent. The two mountains are constantly green, the sun is setting late, and several rows of birds are flying across the sky. The stream is rolling, the lotus song is faint, and the moon is rising again in the edge of the lake. ○ Throwing away the water essence palace, the dream of the end of the world and the rhombus silk stir up thousands of hectares. Autumn in the 30s, but tears are coming after smoke. Shi Shizhen, joined the old Jianghu, forgot about his opportunity, and decided to form a strategic alliance with the White Ou League. The sails returned by mistake, the frost fell on the temples, and the remaining guests were in Maoling.
[The Two Songs of Jie Yuan]
The voice of the wild goose flies with sorrow, gradually changing to Qin Xianzhu. It seems that it is shaking off, and Gracilaria is traveling by mistake.Who knows if we have been separated for a long time? The brocade paper is overlapping and sealed, and the dream cloud has no basis. ○I am complaining, but there is still a difference between two feathers. The east wind stares behind the curtain, how many times I am ashamed, the water chestnut flowers are so charming. Seeing the ruins of the Cangbo painting, I broke the konghou at night and persuaded the public not to cross.
Yanshengsan low river pavilion, back to Chuihong Road in the evening. The simple sentiment leaves, Wu Bo breaks the clouds and gathers them together. It still lingers in my heart for a while, leading the cup and flute to stir up the west wind, sending autumn away. ○Standing still while chanting, I am waiting for the Gongqingzhi to call out. Fairy birds lead quiet steps, dreaming of wildflowers and grasshoppers, and they come and go with a leisurely mind. You listen to the sounds outside, and sing songs with others tonight. I am sick and worried about the rain.
[Six poems with red lips]
Lift the west wind, drunkenly support a cuckoo with a small soul. Mistaken flowers and doubtful grasses will damage the autumn manuscript in a different way. ○Peeping a smile on the east neighbor, the palace makeup is good to relieve jealousy. Qiuniang felt that Qian's skirt was upside down and it was too early to clean up her beauty.
Dan acupuncture points are spring-like, and it is good to support the roots and fall in love with Zhu Lan. No matter how much fragrance you hold, your dream will be stable in Qinlou. ○The dossier is newly reprinted, and Magu's claws are thin and damaged. Autumn makeup is here, and the guard in the palace is red and small, coming to accompany the flower room.
I pushed the pillow and wandered around, and opened the tent for a few bursts of bright rain. It's raining just now, and the mountains are ringing with the cuckoo's voice. ○To cherish the world, urge the barbarians to leave. Lingbo is jealous, sitting in countless places, his heart is on Qingdun Road.
The bright snow falls through the window, and Xiaomei’s makeup is washed off for the first time. The wind blew up when I was testing the lantern, and the clouds drifted to pieces. ○If you miss the lottery, you can talk about all the things in the world. Sadness is like water, the blanket is cold in the morning, and the sound of spring arrives in the eaves.
turns into ashes, and there are many desolate things in it. The wax plate turns red and sheds tears at dusk. ○If the cup is empty due to leakage, we have to take pity on you. You don't know yet, the red has changed to green, and it's still the land of the east wind.
The lamp is dark and the spring is dark, and the flower inscription is empty and the Yao thoughts are gone. The ring is intact, and the dream ends with the sound of the wind. ○Ten years of Jiang Chun, and Yi Tao Gen Piao. Fairy clouds go, leaving people melancholy, troubled by thousands of silk nets.
[Lanling King]
actually has a white head, the same color as the autumn frost in the bright mirror. The dew and smoke are shaking outside the wasteland, and the chaotic spring bushes are replaced by sad green. Know the taste of rivers and lakes. The tired flute is played on the low side of the prison. After dusk, I feel sad in the distance, like the tide is coming and the night wind is rushing. ○ Yiren’s old travels. On the day of buying drunken fish, the branch gull. Lianghua Asase Autumn Wuji. The wadding on my clothes is stained by the wetness, and my resentment sinks into the bamboo tube. When I leave the clothes, my dream is lost. Even life experience prohibits it. ○Jiang Guo. Waiting for rest. I'm afraid that the smoke will be like a painting, the lead and ink will be cracked, and the sound of geese will break in the dark. There are thousands of hectares of dark snow, and I can't hold it. Where are the wild vines? It’s about the end of the year, but I can’t remember them from sleep.
[Eight Poems on Willow Branches]
Old dreams blow with flowers on the Wei Bridge, new worries turn to tears and ask about Xianggao. The people on the banks of Yongfeng Square are extremely romantic, dancing in front of people in the evening.
There is no main balcony, the sun is half setting, and the person in the flute is even more heartbroken when he leaves. The east wind has wiped out all the yellow spots in the palace, and the old makeup is being sorted out by Dingchou Luan.
is like the sound of cuckoos rushing all night, and the proud horses with green hair are broken into pieces. It has clearly fallen off the Jiangtan Road, but still dances softly.
The whole body is weak and weak, and the time is spent and the heart is broken. He spared no effort to serve Huan Xuanwu and saw the sun setting in Jincheng.
Gu Yuan's waist and limbs are light on the palm, and he is famous for riding horses on Hua Street. Don't be surprised when the oriole sings and it becomes cloudy early. If you plant it near Jinqiao, your eyes will turn blue.
Humanity is like a withered stalk, but no silk; it is blurred by misty rain and dragon pond. The east wind blows away the running ducks, which is better than the knotted calamus.
The flute blows flowers out of Bianzhou, and the long strips are pressed to death to fight against the soft wind. Jinfan healed himself and parted, no longer worried about the broken spring waves.
The snow and catkins harmonize with the spring, and the rooftops are broken by the singing dust in the daytime. The golden whip is divided into long branches, don't laugh at the old dancers in Zhangtai.
[Three Songs of Flower Convicts]
The roots of the city are crushed, the road in Lingbo is soft, and Concubine Qiong comes to the clear dawn. The frozen bird cries to sleep. Lin Ting is surprised by the shadow, and the fragrance is petite. Liu Si Juan pulls Qingming to arrive. And the smoke and ice cut off the marsh. Looking timid, taking new steps, the fragrance has changed. ○Drag the old friend to come in the cold, and the shadow of the pear will fall in front of the wind. Silk hair on the temples is cold, chatting with warmth and fragrant wine from frozen flowers. It hurts spring habits and makes people cry. How many times can we get drunk together before singing. Asking who is warm when you are thin or leaning on a barren fence, or who is boring when you are old and wary?
Shadow screen mountain, lamp lips whisper, the traces of spring seem to remain the same. No alcohol in the night hall. Who is the pity Yan to pick up the hairpin? The honey torch is guarded alone. I'm tired of sleeping lightly and I can't wait to see more leaks. Bullying people's sudden age. There are only three or two shallow plum blossoms and plum blossoms left, and the fragrance sticks to half of the sleeves. ○It is cold and steep outside the curtain. I asked first time whether the east wind in Langyuan would wake up. Fang news has changed, but I am still melancholy and thin. The sound of the flute and the laughter of neighbors behind my back make it easy to arrive, and the crows in the forest are frightened and disperse. The material on the mirror sill and the flying luan are astringent, and the new makeup is full of worries.
I am light and yin, E'e resents the fans, the east wind is intoxicating. Wan Shujiao looks at it. Hun has not composed all the fragrances, and has urged many beauties. The sky shines on the sea and the flowers bloom. Immortal clouds rise near the mirror. Ask the island guest, "How can I move my roots? My heart is thousands of miles away." ○ Flying south, I live in a safe place. It is a place where spring is hidden, and it is the best place to have a jade window. Fragrant dreams are stable, Hun is not envious, and Jiangdu is fragrant.The sorrowful heart drags, and the nightingale whispers, but it cannot be hidden, and it is adjacent to Yan Laili to the east. Obstacles are required, palace brocades are surrounded by ten, and golden bells are taken care of.
[Three Songs of Ridiculing]
Spring rain, spring rain, falling blue mist bilingual. The cloud screen is twice as cold, and Luo Yi is alone in the night. Late night, late night, I dreamed of Baochai downstairs.
Spring willows, spring willows, are they still green in the past? The east wind is approaching the road with thousands of silk threads, and it is frivolous to see people leaving. Farewell, farewell, the season of tears and single clothes.
Spring water, spring water, does not send idle tears. Time flies by year after year, and my heart breaks when I hear the song today. Broken intestines, broken intestines, and Tao are diseases that lead to deep sorrow and habit.
[Two Songs of Throwing Music]
A red building has a sloping castellation. Lingbo's hundreds of teams are as angry as the clouds. The wind filtering through the gauze carries the wonderful fragrance. Go up to the mountain and be Su Muzhai. To understand the mandarin duck's dream of living in jealousy, he can become a writer by grabbing Wu's soul from the net.
A miasma forest appears in Zhaoshui Guxu. People have three or five lychee yin. Gangshi dispersed at noon and the sound of the market subsided. The woodcutter talked at night about the profound meaning of the mountains. A leaf picked up the sound, startling the sand-headed black birds.
[Erlang Shen Ershou]
Tears and Lotus War. The rain is breaking green, and the clouds are falling. The butterflies are now dry in their cages, and the mandarin ducks are in the shade. They are reduced to the city bay, and the remaining paintings are still the same. Yaoyuan Lingbo Road washes away hatred, enters socks and dust, and stops changing. The cold Zen, a cassock, the earth, water and wind are priceless. ○Gossip. The vicissitudes of life are reflected, and the jade statue is poured out. Ask about beetle powder, poetry marks niches and barren moss, full of years, wild smoke is still annoying. There are three cold gulls in the west end of the dream, the two skies are full of resentment, and the moon is bright and far away in the night. I heard something outside the Brahma, the sound of the flute was intermittent, and people came and went.
mirror exchange. Avoid the Old Testament and cross the lake. Listen to the water and enjoy the empty rock, the smoke and birds are deep in the bamboo, just like a guest sitting on the edge of the river. In the past, when the poets were looking for the autumn land, they would be surprised and fell. Zeng Fan wrote famous Tang poems, excerpted sentences and other leisure homework. ○Nothing. Vimalakirti's sick couple lies down with pine roots. Ask your husband's house about the flying flowers, what's the matter in a hurry, and clean up the pure fruits of human and heaven. Holding a bun and leaning on it, relying on the quiet sound and money, you can win the incense in Dingzhong. The remnant geese are outside, the wind is rustling with reeds, and the wind gradually rises to send the gods to harmonize.
[Ruan Langgui's four poems]
The flying luan dances for many years, and the bronze flower is proud of its beauty. Autumn clothes are more likely to be cold last night, and crickets crow in the golden well. ○Waving brocade characters, throwing money, and drafting mountains and mountains. Zhi Chengchun is full of hatred for no reason, and the broken poplar urges him to go into trouble.
Shuixi Huase Shangqiang Village is separated from the stream by bamboos. The silk on the sideburns is enough for ten years of dust, and the flying spring clears the kerchief. ○Take thin strategy, manage the empty space, and look for stone warmth again. Waiting for people to return home with a smile every year, the spring mountain cleanses the body.
The night window opens the curtain timidly, and the lights dim. The cold moon is not with us at the fifth watch, and the shadows in the trees on the corridor are late. ○The story of Qing Dynasty, living in the green mountains, with wasted hair on the temples. Ten years of thoughts have entered Zhiyi, and the sound of wild geese will make dreams fly.
Thousands of stemless roots are hanging on the rock col, flying curtains and spraying snow. The wet clouds are twinkling and the cliffs are high, and the spring torrents dare not be bold. ○Yanshan Pavilion, floating water lanterns, No. 32 Youyuan. Who will call Luan Luan on the fairy road at night? The moonlight shakes the phoenix flute.
[Thirteen Poems of Nanxiangzi]
On the first day of the morning, at the west end of the water, no one came to hang the jasmine flowers. Huadi Jiaoge lives on the river, a mandarin duck couple, only going to the red sea and clouds.
The clouds are slipping, the fog is blooming, and I am returning home from picking tea on Xiqiao Mountain. A passerby at the foot of the mountain asked me a question, and he answered vaguely, his face flushed for a long time.
Sanshuikou, combined with Shuangjiang River, the painting wheel can sail lightly. A small breeze comes to the rudder tail of the ship, which brings happiness all year round. Money is spread among the waves during the day.
Luopuo is combined, the jade sand is clear, one peak sends you away and the other welcomes you. Sun and evening are soaked in the mist of the banyan tree, making it impossible to walk, and the sound of flying birds is like urging guests.
In Zhongsu Gorge, the night is cold, and people in Helinghuanzi are still idle. The passers-by rubbed the inlaid notes on the wall. The ape has not returned yet, and the misty hair on the temples and the wind on the hair are in the bright moon.
The flying birds are gone, the angry waves swallow them up, and there is no way to cut the blue clouds in the sky. Sitting horizontally on the cliff with bamboo stalks hanging down, the woodcutter is in harmony, and from time to time flying clouds pass by.
Wushi Ferry is crossed by several families. This year, there is less rain and autumn plowing has been delayed. The lean sun sinks into the stream, the hungry calf lies down, and there is no homework. At midnight, a fire burns on the edge of the rocks.
The rocky hair is left in the south of the Yangtze River, with a bun and a dowry. The rapid oar rushes through the waves to drive away the arrows, the boat is raised to see, and the water flow is like a big seal script.
Behind the pillow, before the sail is lowered, the guest's heart is lonely all over the river and sky. Who will pay the red paper folded in the hand, Cao Lang said, "I am a guest at a place where there are no wild geese."
The letter spreads to the end of the world, and the clear frost on the temples reminds me. The thick flowers in the post house have no intention of persuading me. The deep cup makes my leisurely sorrow fade away. ○If the tired eyes are open, the ancient Ge will smoke a small stick with a pair of smoke. He rolled up his unlined clothes and pushed himself up from the pillow, wandering around, as if there were soft words from Chunhong.
The plain wax ashes are smokeless, and the wind turns and the fireflies shine high on the rafters. Autumn disease is as nameless as being drunk, feeling sluggish and sleeping alone with a bed partner. ○The geese returned to the south after waking up from the dream, and the book from Liaohai settled down the next year. After all, the new sorrow can't be blown away, so I go fishing alone on the Cangjiang River beside the gull.
I can't sleep on the sick pillow, and I have hundreds of plans to dream about Xiaoan.At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring. ○The bottom of the song is in front of the respect, and the branches of flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
My way is true, no matter what, I can live with the thunderbolt. The competition is to regard the floating water as the water, rough and sparse, and recognize that there is no full tide in it. ○The electricity was exposed all over the body, and the mourning son Peng Keng was not special. Who can turn around when the strong wind blows? For a moment, he laughs and carries a lamp to illuminate the dark road.
[Two Songs of Complaints from Qing Dynasty and Shang Dynasty]
Manjiang sobbed towards the evening. Another strong wind blows. It seems that someone is returning to fishing, and the lanterns and lanterns are tied with cables. ○The rest of the isolated village is even more shady. As the night gets darker, who do you want to show your courage to? The sand moon is in the dark, and the wild fireflies are three or four o'clock.
The cool leaves are falling like rain. The lanterns on the shore are three to five. The west wind stirs with resentment, and the faint crow looks at you. ○The light radiator Hibiscus beeps. Over there, Huaqiao Zhuhu. It is forbidden to cut off the dust of love, and whisper in the night.
[Four Songs of Cave Immortals]
Freshly picked, warm rocks and clouds are left, and the fishing belt has double texts like vines. I want to loose coal and sell it at night, study and write about the sorrow, and the tears will condense in the jade bird's eyes when I rub it. ○Chongqing flowers are washed outside, small leaves are flying, and the cool green and fragrant ink pond is full. We are tired of being together and return to our clothes, just like Guan Luanjian, waiting for the autumn wave with heart. Then he cooks and cooks the red silk, sells it to Tiansun, and draws new grudges.
I have an unknown autumn illness. I have stopped drinking for three years, but I bought a dogwood bag for the ninth day. I also knew that this was not my land, so I forced myself to go upstairs and sit there until the sunset. ○ Thousands of floating clouds refer back to Chang'an, but they are fishing rod hands in the rivers and lakes. There is a westerly wind on my temples, and there is a lot of frost in my homeland. I am afraid that tomorrow the flowers will bloom and become thin. I want to ask whose home the beautiful autumn light will fall into? There is a solitary guest wandering around, leaning on his high sleeves.
The clothes are left in ruins, and there is no plan to travel quietly. The west wind blows from behind the city. When I lay down in Cangjiang River, my hair turned gray all over again. I didn't believe that the grains and millet were so separated! ○The penumbra of the Jade Tower in the sky is neither fog nor smoke, disappearing the old green eyebrows of the Western Mountain. Why is there more frost, three amphibious crows, and the setting sun outside the decaying willows? I am still willing to stay for a while for the sad people, but I only cry in Kunchi, with stone scales and barren water.
The bright moon shines brightly every year, shining brightly on the tall buildings. It's just that it's easy to feel melancholy at night. Even if Heng'e recognizes me, she won't be worried about anything, and her mind will fly towards the north sadly. ○ When I wake up from the wine, a black magpie rises, and a blue cloud appears, pointing to the void in the distance. Knowing that there was an early stage, I heard the sound against the shadow, as if I were separated by thousands of mountains. It must be believed that the Qiong Tower is very cold, and there are still people who are worried and looking at it with their white heads.
[Two Poems of Qinggong Spring]
The decaying battlements are holding smoke, the water in the dusk pavilion is calling, and the wild cuckoos are calling the near Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade casing are vaguely evocative of poets. The new tune is melancholy, and a spring of flowers is still fragrant and fragrant. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Thousands of tears drop in the air, and they cry out towards the cold plains. What's the point of being left alone? If you know the world, don't ask the disabled monk.
The jade seals the smoke, the cicada throws away her comb, and the phoenix nest spins in the dusk. The plum blossoms are flowing, the orchid screen is old, and the resentful toad does not shine on the solitary frown. The wadding and silk are messy, and they overlap and make people feel cold. The palace clothes have not yet been added, and the luanjian is urged to stop, and the thinning is really real. ○Acacia turned into fairy clouds, donated to Zhongzhou, and my thoughts were empty. I cry when I am hurt, I am worried about my spirit body, and I dream again without any reason. Looking for the fallen joy, I am crying tears of red silk mirror dust. The quilt lamp is dark, it is still the middle of the night, and the cuckoo is talking about the end of spring.
[Five Songs with a Slow Sound]
New flowers have changed the shore, drooping willows are clearing the waves, and the water and stones of the old home remain the same. Xiao Zu smells the root, and the wind and spring sound makes the Langgan. The empty hall is tender and cool, collecting rain, attracting the heart of autumn, and urging the gulls to occupy the side. The book will be offered forever, and the tea and fire will be continued, and the poems will be engraved on selected stones. ○In his later years, he was fragrant and empty, and was ruined by green yin, ripening golden pills. After a few days of precious bushes, I flew south over the bird's nest. Cangzhou's dream mark, where can I sleep on the screen? There is a green mountain with no way to go, next to the clear shade, I put on the mat and sleep in the dew.
The city marks are covered with smoke, the mirrors are fragrant and fragrant, and the patrol is far away from the red dust. It's not nearly dusk, there's no one around, and it's cold and green. To the west, there are two swallows from the old house, relying on the delicate and angry, and the new jealous eagle. Looking for a good place, the eaves are empty, the roofs are empty, and the corridors are empty. ○Who believes in hurting the tired guest in spring? Fei Lin spends his charming horse and worries about Wu Feng. The mood for a feast is strong at night with the lanterns floating. Respect the few people in front of me, and bear the east wind with tears. Before I woke up from pouring the wine on Zhen Cong, I fell into the charming clouds and fell into a dream.
After high school drinking, I went to the country to sing, and I traveled to the end of the world tiredly in the autumn wind. The sunset in Chang'an is covered by floating clouds looking to the west. I'm lying in Jinlou, shocked by the cold rain, the swallows leave their nests, and the guests haven't returned home. When the light is turned on, the water will be cut off to clear the sorrow, and the sick will see flowers. ○I am drunk and full of emotions, sighing at the traces of dust in ten years and my life experience. Personnel news, unbearable dream of Donghua. Geng Lang was mourning, and he was fighting at Jiangguan in a desolate manner. The poems and poems write it down late, relying on Wu Ruan, Wu and Huansha.
The cold flowers are abundant, the spring ponds are filled with continuous rain, and the lonely cicadas are singing lazily.Passing by the wine forest pavilion, autumn is welcomed everywhere. The feeling of mountains and rivers suddenly falls, the gate is closed, but the green pines are still there. Decorate the new view, sit next to the clear strings and send it quietly, the sky is dark and majestic. ○The dream breaks through the arrogant eyes of youth, and there is an old crane in the west mountain to guide the fairy trail. I have always made friends with the barbarians, and I have lost my singing tent every year. Borrowing people from the end of the world, Cong Guiman wanders around. Leaning against the railing to hide in the west wind, looking at the returning clouds, I still feel nostalgic for the old peak.
The singing coots are singing and the branches are empty, and the butterflies are blowing on the empty branches. People are sympathetic to each other. A piece of departed soul, the setting sun shakes dreams into smoke. The red part of the old inscription in Xianggou is spelled with forbidden flowers, and it looks haggard year after year. The cold news is urgent, and the shrine is playing mournfully, and the mourning cicadas are all shared. ○In the end, the oriole in the ancient nest has no distinction. It is flying into the golden well of frost and breaks the cotton. After dancing back to the wind, I realized that the grudges were unfounded. The sky is overcast in the cave, the waves are wide and the night is dark. I hate that Xiangsi is shaking, but I don't want to ask about the cuckoo in the empty mountain.
[Yue Huaqing Two Songs]
The birds crow at noon, and the smoke is clear. Autumn stars fell to the ground, and the wind shattered the sky. The spring flies and the clouds move to the side. On the back of the world, Qi Zhong Chu Liao, the Buddha's fire is deep, and the stone energy is facing the peaks, standing apart. The water sill in Xiaoliao was muddy, and I didn't notice the fish and dragon playing. ○One path to the rock stream. A solitary ape is deep in the cave, and he is frightened to sleep. Double torch sand bed, embroidered hair, Qiu Lian mirror committee. If you want to Li Yuan, talk about hoeing Zhike, go to Zen, there is no place for the beautiful monk. Hinaho. Remove the moss from the horseshoe and identify the character Kaiyuan.
The jade sound relieves the coolness, the forest falls in the evening, and the people on the curtain are singing the incense sutra. The haggard and round posture is covered with fine clouds. The dew is empty, the sky is cold, the trees are old and fragrant, and the painting railings are dark. Who saves. Ask about the small tribulations of mountains and rivers, how many afterimages there are. ○Gui Dianqiu is still awake. When he was about to complain to Fang Zhu, tears burst out from his eyes. I feel so sad about my widowhood that I can't help but feel miserable. Gradually throw away the old and colorful clothes, so that they can be released and the empty golden mirror will be broken. Listen to who is complaining, and wait for him to correct himself.
[Geng Lezi]
The jade hairpin wind blows, the luan fans the moon, and the needle-threading season is leisurely passing. There are candles in the cage, waiting for the morning glory, no one goes upstairs alone. ○On the road in front of the building, Gufan is watching the old man go again at dusk. Put the word "jin" on the golden shuttle. Light autumn brings dawn to the dawn river.
[Shaobian]
lives in Bantang. He is a half-monk and knows everything about life. The monk said, "Hey, I sat around and listened without any fuss." Lao Tzu said that truth begins with strength. There is etiquette. Hengyan does not tolerate being called old. How can I rely on my parents now? Pointing to Shan Lake in the sky, there are cold clouds in Bingshe, and Gaoyu's tears are as clear as water. Even if we can't swear to be together forever, how can we dare to respect our old mane? My friends are mourning, calling me but not naming me, and following my will. ○Hee. It’s so bad that I am weak. What's the taste of being an official for thirty years? My friend died on suspicion of guilt, and he can be remembered by carving the swan. A good smile to consult Zen, three lives to achieve fruition, heavenly relatives have no attachments and are brothers. Even if the bag is sealed and the millet is pressed, what was yesterday may not be what it is today. The remaining century-old houses are separated from Qingli. So he surrendered and returned to farming for no time. Making a futon also involves one’s life experience. With his mouth shut and his eyes wide open, he could discern the verses. But just follow the egret and pick up the gull's mate, and just show your composure. That's all that lives up to its name. As an old man, you will know when you encounter it.
[Three Poems of the Pipa Immortal]
Returned to the West Lake, not in time for the cherry blossom season. There is no solitary string in the air, and the voice of spring is filled with sadness. The orchids are dripping with tears, and the remnant cuckoos are afraid of getting wet with their cries, so their skirts are dusty. When you are drunk, your sails are lowered and your mood is high, and it is easy for you to lose your temper. ○Waiting for reminder, waist flute single shirt, taking advantage of Tiao Shui, the old moon in the east. Send lotus flowers to each other to express your kindness. Spring is getting old, and there is a lonely guest pillow. After ten years of hard work, it will be gone forever. But the flowers are floating in the river country, and the miasmatic sky is crying.
Return to plant peach blossoms, the clouds of Chu are full, and the fairy forest of my homeland is like valerian. The flute outside the forest calls to the bullock, and the spring mud gradually begins to cry and slip. There are tired travelers in Xiangxuyin and Jiangguan, and the road is wrong and the short thread is difficult to break. Settling down in Cangzhou, singing in the daytime, cherishing your beautiful hair. ○The old title sentence, the silver candle on the west tower, the dream dust, the east wind fades away. Who sends a drop of fresh water, sending flying flowers like snow. In the middle of the night, Wu Hong tried counting. Farewell to the bright moon and sobriety. The bottom line is thrown away, and the rumors are empty.
The remaining wine bids farewell to the spring, thousands of miles away, the grass on the bank is the same color as the robe. The separation thread is tired and knotted with soft poplars, and there is a trace of resentment against the travelers. The bottom of the velvet hat is swallowed by the wind, full of sorrow, and the clouds in the country are chaotic. The more silent the sound is, the more Wu Jiejun makes an appointment, we must remember this evening. ○ It's the wild sea, returning from wandering, it's so sad to say goodbye, the world is far away and the food is cold. The jade cup turned upside down is tasteless, bitter and the head hangs white. People are more lazy than Feihua. I'm afraid that next year my writing style will become cold. It's good to take advantage of the time of beetroot and armor, and the drunken people will be green again.
[Exploring Fang Xin]
The candle flowers are thin, and I asked if my shoulders, which are composed of poems at night, are cold and cold. The curtains are covered with lamps, and the sorrow is shed but the wine is snuggled up. The crow of small birds wets the dream of the West, half-fallen behind the east wind. Sit around, wander around, and watch the flowers bloom. ○Moss embroidery on the rock path is teasing the servant girl, and she is obsessed with books. The cloudy and clear weather is not yet stable, so I will explore the dowry and owe red beans. Who cherishes the beauty of the green eyebrows? Only the slender willow trees remain. The dark river city looks like black ink and Wuyun Manxiu.
[Magnolia]
The lanterns add wine to the west building. Farewell, I wake up from the drunkenness and hear the words from the end of the world. Tears separate the leaves behind the dawn curtain, and the full moon is obscured by the night mirror and sorrow. ○The paintings and calligraphy of lovesickness are extinguished in the bonfire, and the jade bracelet of hatred will never reach its destination. The rain left people alone in the spring, and the haggard east wind had nowhere to say.
[Ying Tianchang's Three Poems]
The whirling crows mess up the leaves, the geese drive away the clouds, and the curtain of the building is half-shuttered in the cool autumn. Avoid the idle situation in the wine shop, and the wind bed is full of diseases. Huanghua Society, urging Su Yue, recognizing the old hidden, Langfeng Kuanghe. The sleeves are messed up, I smell the cold fragrance, and I am too lazy to ask about my sorrow and joy. ○ It is a sad song that is useless. It is an old literary garden in the countryside, and the tune is gradually becoming less and less. Go and cross the river as a poet, sing alone as a mad medicine. Chaoyi Chongzhi is strong. In the dream of love, exploring spring. When I return home late, the post road is full of smoke, and I must send plum calyx.
The wind is full of creeping grass, flowers are blooming on the wrong road, and the water is late and the water is late. Yu Lang is old and desolate, and lovesickness is piled on paper. The thoughts of mourning, the questions and answers about saving, the cooking, and the chanting of bag boxes. When I return to my dream place, I smile at the clouds and send the sail leaves away. ○We hold each other together for the past year with a cold heart, enjoy the old with new joy, and the clearest hair outside the strings. Making fun of Duanhong's traces, the cool breeze stirs the end of the sky. Fragrance blooms on both cheeks. The beauty is not separated by the bright moon. Waiting for Fei Zhan, we will practice together and then divide our leisure activities.
curved screen covers the night orchids. Half of the makeup disappears. Dreams cannot come true, and lamps burn out. The plum breeze falls outside the curtain. ○Check the red paper and the round jade bamboo shoots. I know the spring tide is coming soon. Counting thousands of sails makes no difference. I don’t know whether Chao has faith.
[Annoyed by Flowers]
The thin plum breeze dims the sky, like ink sitting in the window at dawn. How many times have the spring gone by the chaos, the green gate and the white house, the dream shadow of the passing year, and the lingering sleep in the mirror. I am too lazy to play the sword, and I am late to write the book. The wine glass is only called the photo of a flower branch. ○I am still the same person as I was last year, and I hate the luxuriant grass. On the back of the road, there is a picture of Tiaoshan Mountain, and I still find a tired pillow. It is a broad and thin plan that travels along the old path, and there are flying catkins and flying flowers, so they are annoyed. As soon as a leaf goes away, I know that the gulls of Linmeng are getting older.
[Seven Poems on Cherishing the Red Clothes]
The darkness follows the fireflies, and the bamboos move when the curtain is pushed, and the courtyard becomes white. When the drinker comes, the moss in the garden is broken and green. Mr. Wu Conggui looked at Xiaoye and Ezhuang in a carefree manner. Xiangmo. The long paper is cracked and stained with traces of frost and flowers. ○The side of Ming Honghai. Lying alone with a floating lantern, the flowing waves drift away from the color. Lovesickness has not been sent to the thin guest. Resistant to autumn silence. The sale is accompanied by gulls in Shihu Lake, and gossips are spread across the west and north of Yunnan. It's about my hometown, only Cangchan can understand it.
Tired of the tide, the tube is limited to one day, and the illness is gone. Holding the soul of the river toad, blowing the lamp half-circle green. If the clear string is turned by mistake, whoever understands it will be a guest at the banquet. Spring silence. The fragrance is dark and the shadows are sparse, and the sound of plum blossoms is heard. ○The west wind fills the road. Wu Chen comes and goes, wandering around in idle sorrow. Cangzhou dream is in the old country. Flying geese travel north. Xie Xi's poems and poems in his later years are all based on Geng Lang's experience. I want to be the same as the old man, and I am drunk with the maple color of the garden.
The old geese are gone, the crows are turning over the sun, and the sorrow is gone. Before the dodder fur is gone, Tiaoshan Mountain is full of resentment and green. The cold flowers and drums are beating, and the calligraphers who laugh and frown are also present. Zhanji. The old immortal in Xihuan is about to take a rest next to the gull. ○The red fragrance of the old street. Flirting with the dream of a bronze camel, half of the nest marks are left behind. The country has experienced a miasma every three years. North and south. It's a good time to stay in Xuyu in the cold weather, and the five lakes in the snow sing the calendar. Just cross the wall to have a drink, and enjoy the view of the mountains with ease.
The dreamy cup reminds you of the short time to install, which is very tiring. The west wind turns to the sea, and the sails break through the blue sky. Gao Hongyun is far away, but he has a poor eye and a guest in the river tower. Silence. There are wickets on the forked road, and the songs are endless. ○The car dust is nine miles away. The flower field with a sea of people was borrowed by Wenliang Yanni. In ordinary life, Jun admires his homeland. Wuyunbei. The setting sun is golden and cold on the ancient platform, and I look forward to reliving my old days. When Wuling was young, he was sad and single-colored.
When a tired couple mourns, I sing a long song to see the sun off, and my sorrow is powerless. When I was sick, I went on stage, and the frost and forest were beautiful and red. When your lips are full of wine, you should smile and be strong-willed to serve your guests. Noise and silence. The sound of wild geese in the cool rain makes them rest in peace. ○The bright light spreads across the street. The dust is full of dust, and the waves are full of sorrow. Zhan Lu burst into tears and went to the northwest of the country. I miss my old mountain and think about it, where I can go fishing and travel to find my experience. Xiu Wanying was speechless, wondering whose house the autumn scenery was.
A thousand senses are running away from me, I am wasting my days in isolation, and I am tired of my energy as I grow old. The wild goose seals the book, and the wild clouds disappear into the sky. When you are away from the group at the end of the year, you are worried about thousands of miles away and have no time to move to other places. Silence. The lamp pillow wakes up from fatigue, swallowing the wind and waves. ○ Thousand classes of purple roads. The spring thunder in the hall is ringing, and the old sound of green cattails is borrowed. Gu Leng's dream fell, and he went down to the country to fight against the north. What's the matter with holding Chulan in your hand? You are not allowed to climb through the nine levels. After flipping through the book, the wine is drained and the green chickens are in autumn colors.
The disease is reduced and the frost is gone, and the sea is gloomy and the sun is gloomy. Singing bitterly still exerts strength. The couple is in a state of confusion, and the distant mountains are green and forgotten. Sitting on the bed at night, I smell the wild geese and the head of the building is like a guest. Silence. The embers of incense are lingering, and the reading is misty and breathless. ○ Luo Chuang Fen Mo. All the feelings are unreasonable, and the flowers and tears are flowing. The woodcutter wind brings love, and the water country sends it to the north and south. But what's the use of seclusion? I keep worrying about my origins. Make a fishing rod plan and consider the weather of Shihu Lake.
[红林楽 near]
The cherry blossoms are divided into cages at the beginning, and the bells are tied to the branches. The new rain comes from the reeds in plain hands, and the fragrant fragrance messes up the Yingpan. Drinking wine is served in the east garden and west garden, and I want to sit and chew a meal in the wind. The Old Testament once gathered carved saddles. Hua Li watched behind closed doors. ○The wax-embellished book has not reached its peak, and the taste remains sour after being sealed. He is as lazy as he is, thirsty and full of sorrow. It's better to be old in spring at the end of the world, the hall is dark and green at night, and the dream soul is still parked on the lake on the boat.
[Two Songs of New Wild Geese Guozhuanglou]
Pink gold dowry, leisurely love affairs, the green window reflects the beauty. Wuluan reclined and saw the small letters connected with each other. The more fragrant wisps are draped on the sleeves, the peaks of the mountain are covered with dark daisy, and the eyebrows are crescent. Habits of gentleness, dark color at night, sold out with Chinese years. ○The spring breeze fills the basket, accompanied by cyan jade on the curtain, lightly illuminating the low servant girl. It's full of love and beauty, but the sky is full of green bamboos and cold weather. The embroidery room is half warm in the smoker, and I ask when the makeup will be round. Looking for an appointment, I can see the spring shadow of Xiaoying, not separated by Pengshan Mountain.
The netizen is dimly lit, and the floating lamp is nearby, shining brightly in the light of the cup. There is no sound to be heard, and the dust and musk deer echo in the sky. Don't lean on the moth eyebrows to pity the short temples. Before autumn, the mirror shadow has already been frosted. In the youth field, Naihe called Che, and deeply hated Zhou Lang. ○When the wind blows for no reason, the dusk clouds will stay and the setting sun will stay. Wangjing's old dream, intoxication will not change the sadness. The heart of the kite moves faster and faster, fearing that it will fall apart. Thirteen golden geese fly. It's late in Cangjiang, and I'll pay for it in my share. It's very sad tonight.
[Four Songs of Butterfly Love Flower]
The dialogue between Orioles in the East Wind in No. 1 Hospital. The time of drinking is uncertain. Who is the master of the red calyx? New songs and dances in the bead curtain and brocade tent. ○Personnel information is of great concern. Falling catkins and flying silk threads are all signs of sorrow. The tears linger in my eyes, and spring seems to be promising, and the rivers and lakes are filled with flowers.
The wine is flowing like snowflakes. Swing the hairspring, and the light will turn. You may not be able to clear up the song at the snap of your fingers, but who can limit it if you rush to take pictures. ○Hua Chen is born opposite. There are many obstacles in my steps, and I have not understood the depth of spring. The smoke is heard through the window and no one can be seen. Jie Hong's new music is all over the place.
The solitary flower branches in the dusk with the rain. The sky is covered with red railings, separated by mist. I miss you dearly, and the east wind cares about idle words. ○Proud red lapel wears embroidered household. But the answer is muttering, and I don’t know who is in charge. I will tell you the details of the incident in detail, so don’t let me misunderstand the myriad of threads.
It is easy to rest with jealousy. The stormy and heavy weather brings us to the Qingming Festival. The clothes are colder and more timid. ○ After a short nap, I feel hot while leaning on a mountain pillow. In the dream, I was worried and kept my eyebrows furrowed. The leaky and half-dry streets are full of drums, and the night cuckoo crows above the pear blossom moon.
[大麺]
The stone railing on the back is low, the flower flags are fixed, and the fairy clouds are clustered deep in the sky. Carving jade hats in the early morning, standing there with red makeup on, looking like a golden house. Drunk valerian blows smoke, the clear cloud rises at noon, and the east wind lifts the delicate feet. The three-life dream of Yuhuan, relaxing in the pavilion next to Wu's baby, accompanied by the loneliness of spring. There is no title on the leaves of Nai Shu. The cup is filled with hatred and the hair on the temples is touched by a ruler. ○Happy travels must be held by candles, while drinking and doing things, the scenery runs fast. Angry and confused, I climb the stairs and my eyes are sick, and my heart is worried when the water is cut off. The red fragrance is curled up, and the tears are full of tears. I don't believe in the throw of youth, but rely on my homeland and the sound of cuckoos to urge me. The situation is scattered and clear. There is no land to plant and buy, and I return to the green grass in the courtyard. For whom the resentment will be continued.
[一calyx red]
Shuixixun. There are small boats on the waves, crows and spring birds. The river is raining with yellow plum blossoms, and Wu is wearing white silk ribbons, sending him off leisurely and drunkenly. Replacement of old travel, flat smoke wastes green. The remaining words of Yan are nestled deep in the hall. The feelings of horse racing, the weather of baking silkworms, and the sales volume are used to sinking. ○You can't help but wander on the wrong road. It's a beautiful boat, but now I'm lonely. Fragrant shadows and curtains, Chinese-year-old zither pillars, melancholy and sparse lapels. Don't be surprised, he is a wild and charming person, with beautiful hair and a young heart in his heart. Waiting to talk about lovesickness and resting, the moon is shining in the shadow of the building.
[Two poems cited by Cymbidium fragrans]
Blowing the late fragrance, dotting the makeup mirror and half of the servant girl's hair with green clouds. Remember to sit down and know the fragrance. The most annoying thing is the rush of dawn under the lamp. Hua Yin steps up, facing the annoying and singing Liang Chenlai. There were so many tears that I accidentally dropped the pomegranate skirt. ○ Junyue microwaves, leaving the intestines and drinking wine, this hatred fills the eyes. Afraid of returning to the horse, Pin and Su'e were alone at night. Kaiping Mountain is green, dreams are heavy with jade, it is difficult to meet each other, and the southern geese are short and careless.
Floating mats of water, a shallow cool dip, and a new sleep on the gauze. If you catch a little wind firefly, you will know that the fan is tired and fluttering. The leakage is long and the dream is short, the road is blocked and the mountains and corners are blocked. If you want to complain, it's hard to do it. Carrying a candle and a jade rope falls to the west. ○Who owns the secret flute? There are three or four flying sounds, and the water tune is wrong. Counting the cooking style, I didn’t shed any tears. The inscription is red, the Gui Palace is vague, and in the late night of the Qing Dynasty, who is ironing the little eyebrows and worrying about the calyx.
[Zhu Mazi]
Sigh, the cold rain is drifting and the smoke is falling, and the orchids are fading and the dew is falling, so the mountain year is late. Looking towards the empty tower, the towering corners of the city rise, and the frost forest spreads out. Sitting and lamenting the sad songs of a solitary guest, weary of strumming on the complicated strings, gradually urged to leave the banquet. The eyes need to be sober from the wine, and they have to look at people, and the autumn tide is like an arrow. ○ When I think about the place where I am traveling, my sails follow the falling geese, and my dreams first turn to Hunan. Lingjun was filled with resentment in the past. The desert waves and dust blow.Ding Yi listens to the rain and the wind, sings the story under the lamp, and the people are far away from each other. Thousands of leaves are soaring in shock, and the setting sun is full of dimness.
[Bu Shuan Zi Slow]
The smoke from the furnace is warm, the rain behind the curtain stops the cold, and I am extremely tired and cannot sleep in my quilt. When the wine was first sold out, I heard Lin Jing blowing loudly. It brings frost to the sky, and the broken horn urges people to rise. Changing to the dawn, the beautiful scenery is plain, and the toads are shining endlessly. ○Lonely leaning on the railing. Gradually, my eyes are cut off from the dust of Beijing, and my dreams are lost in the Xiangshui River. Later, he made an appointment with Ding Ning and sat down with Fei Cuifeng to pass on his tears. Good years are wasted in vain. Waiting for an appointment, I will see him off in the world, fearing that he will be haggard when he returns home.
[Jiang Nanchun]
The decaying willows stand on the platform, the bright ripples are shallow, and the green and Yao trees are arched like a wat. The poem is caged in the soil, the old home is cold, and the autumn pen is hanging down. There are few signs outside the door. The waves are closer and the steps are cleaner. There are several dishes and medicines in the south of the mountain, horizontal books in the north of the pool, and Wu Gao accounts for the Duanyanyue. ○The flying immortals are gone and the festival is floating. I want to see the Qingcheng full of history, and I dream of climbing Luo Ge. The remaining couple in Shanyang still explain, Rouge Qingxue. The neighboring flute is frightened and the wind stops. Outside the setting sun, the painting railings are warm. A few people are retreating into seclusion, the autumn language is cold, and the maple roots are humming in the dark spring.
[Looking at the sea tide]
The long wind blows the wild geese, the flying clouds fly across the sky, and the sky floats endlessly. The dream of a lonely night, the scales of thousands of mountains, and the sorrow of the numerous bamboo slippers. Come and take a walk. The first moon shines brightly on the Xiangpei, and the frost wipes the Wu hook. The sound of Yuanhe, outside thirteen screens, chirped in the clear autumn. ○Yanming wildly hits the stream. Ask Penglai's left stock, who will collect the remaining paintings. Waving a fan to Gu Rong, Wang Can ascended the tower, and now he is not a feudal lord. Playing the flute to call the Qiu, I want to bet that the Yellow Sea will be returned to Cangzhou. In the present day, the king and the barbarians share the throne, and boats are sent out across the five lakes.
[Shizhou Slow Two Songs]
In the passing time, the kingfisher crows, and spring arrives in the south. The small calyx in the clouds is red, and the jade posture in the stream is white. Looking for incense, I poured it into the sky at night, and the smoke on the lake was gone. The slanting moon wanders around alone, and it is hard to find the good news. ○Remember. With the news of plum blossoms in the two capitals, the Qiang Guan was shocked and could no longer live in it. If you are used to living at the end of the world, you can know the east wind in your dreams. I have shed all my tears in the spring, but it is so late in the year. I still listen to the dusk flute in Jiangcheng. Arouse the hearts of the five lakes, and rely on the power of chanting in front of you.
I wake up with a spring pillow, accompanied by a painting hall, and the sky is vast. There is so much information in the south of the Yangtze River, who will lose the fragrant plum blossoms in Shuiyi. I have been nestling in the wilderness for a long time, and I have not heard of the flute in the mountains. The jade dragon is still silent in the dusk and snow. The sound of bamboo sticks outside the sky brings the season of floating lanterns. ○Gefa. After visiting the Champs Elysees and returning to Hechun City, I immediately forgot to say goodbye. Missing the setting sun, the sound of clams and cuckoos is extremely sad. I don't know how many eyebrows I have drawn when I look in the mirror. The new makeup disappears and worries are gone. Holding her bun in a bun, she was speechless, and looked at the yellow moon again.
[Fisherman's Proud Three Songs]
I have been looking for the double-painted boats in autumn for a few days, and I have been busy on Hengtang Road. Dreaming of walking in fragrant clogs in Xiwan, where you drink wine, the wild waves and strange rocks are still worth mentioning. ○It is easy for new coolness to grow green trees, but separation takes advantage of Gaohong. There is a wax torch floating in the well of Yiye Jingwu. You must read it. It is raining in the south of the Yangtze River tonight.
The bookmarks and picture frames around the couch are so hazy and scattered. As we get older, we can't help but drink strong tea, wake up from a slight sleep, and use wind furnace decoction to treat autumn diseases. ○ Thousands of miles of blue clouds are full of wild geese, and the running script breaks the shadow of the blue sky. The moon is half up, the curtains are thin and dark, the railings are standing alone, and the sounds of business are full of sounds, but no one can hear them.
The incense bowl is filled with light, and the cold firefly opens and closes the green window paper. I searched and recited my work and night plans on my pillow, but there was no word. I was so tired that my eyes were closed in thought. ○Weeping dew and mourning insects hinder a short sleep, and the dream returns to the curtain as cold as water. Cece Gaolinwan starts at the end of the month and gets up in the middle of the night. The sound of autumn is nothing to do with idle people.
[Two poems with dark fragrance and sparse shadows]
A yellow patch of dirt is exposed, looking at the bottom of the hat of an old friend, peeking at the flying snow. The disease started on the Double Ninth Festival, and the west wind blew and the cold settled in the evening. The sad taste hurts the autumn and makes it more bitter. I cherish the mist and the clear spring in my home. Remember the cold incense, call for the remaining cup, and talk about the clear things across the fence. ○The road to Chaisang is far away, it is late in the year in the small town, and the people are miserable. Sitting alone in the lingering fragrance, there will be an east wind, which will not change the drifting of the leaves. The branches are sweet and fragrant, and there are frost queens and lonely butterflies. I hope this flower will bloom from now on and shine on the misty moon.
Broken beads one by one, I borrowed the pink letter to collect them, and my family was in the ice and snow. Notes keep treasures, and do not wait for good gold to be cast into flower bones. After the calamity, people are getting older, so don’t worry about it and let your spirits fade away. No matter how many times it is born, the flavor remains and flows into the words. ○What's more, the rooms are all charming and beautiful, and the fragrance of the rupilla leaves is everywhere when you knock on them. Exhibiting the lanterns and the night, together with the concubines, is appropriately called Yichun Liantie. The new moon in Luofu shares the same dream, wishing to be transformed into two fairy butterflies among the books. If several generals are interested in family treasures, there must be a grandson who can tell them about it.
[reverse offender]
Tears look at the new peach, and the old charm is swept away. The free door closes early. Sticky chicken paintings and swallows have been deleted. Whose family is competing, the new sound of flutes and drums is heard by crows in the forest. The sparks are cold when the sticks are left, and the east wind does not let go. The leakage is dry, and there is no frost at dawn. ○Helping at the plum window, green tubes and silver poppies, the past is like a passing bird. I dreamed of seeing my homeland, and it was green in spring, and the new year was coming. Afraid of only benefit, flowers and branches are annoying. The pain hangs down, and the white head groans and looks into the sky.No matter who is the best, drinking every day is no good. People who wake up alone are old.
[Three Songs of Lun Xun Fang]
It is still cold and I am dreaming, the sky is green and smoke is coming, and the orioles are frightened at night. Like a guest in the east wind, the twilight bamboo sticks outside the flowers are blown away. The sun sets, the cuckoo sounds, the running water rushes, and the fragrant grass spreads all over the sky. On the Anhe River Bridge, there are hanging willows and knots, and people leaning against the curtain are far away. ○The weather is very cloudy and sunny, and the line of mountain eyebrows is relatively miserable. According to the back fence, it is not called Hua Luo Qingfan. After passing by the chaotic pond and taking a break from singing and dancing, I feel sad about the cheap time of cherry blossoms and bamboo shoots. I'm bored, it's dusk, and the rain is falling.
The dust in the mirror hides the thin body, the moon behind the curtain exposes the sorrow, and the sick person is alone in the house. It's the end of spring when I accompany guests, and I can't bear the smoke of medicine. The old fragrance is passing through the wine shed, and the new tune is complex and lazy when singing. Temporarily hazy, there is Tongjie Street close at hand, and the car is whirling like thunder. ○ Fortunately, the crows of the city dispersed, the arrows were heavy, and the dawn outside the window was still shallow. It may not be enough to fall asleep, but love will arise in the half-quilt of sleepiness. When the geese pass by, I hear the tears of the flute, and when the flowers bloom, I climb up the stairs with eyes wide open. Chu Yunnong was expected to lose to him and win money from the court.
The crane sheds off the inscription, and the crickets roost in the desert. Who cares about the fragrant scrolls. A white head hurts the spring, and the poet has a lonely soul to send. The fragrance of hateful ink sticks to the new silk basket, and the sorrowful string heart marches in the idle palace. In the old south of the Yangtze River, I was afraid that the lakes and mountains would be destroyed, so I had no place to rely on. ○ Take away the beautiful things and tidy up the broken things. The same life is like a sea of clouds and melancholy. The whole family is in love, and there are Chu Lan’s idle tears in it. The pearls and jade are often associated with the feeling of being near the water, and the articles are more than just about Tibetan mountains. When the soul is summoned, in the small town of Kuma, there is no sound of the flute.
[saiwengyin]
The flute returns to the pond road, urging the wild color to shine. The old love is broken, the clothes are red, and the rain is falling in the east. The guests are not able to bear the sway of autumn, and they are careless in front of the colorful brocade screen. Recalling in secret, there are old treasures in the bush, carrying a boat in a hurry. ○Flower Palace. The week is approaching, I am tired of flying south, and I am haggard and dreaming of Jinliang. It is expected that the dew of the West Lake will be exposed tonight. Unexpectedly, Taiyi Xiancha will be resented by Gao Hong. Mandarin ducks are the most miserable, sleeping in the desolate waves is like dreaming of the wind.
[eyes charming]
The sound of rain moistens the old clothes and the bonfire, and I am sick and pregnant after drinking. The dance red disappears, the west wind returns, and leaves Ye Ye's heart. ○The traveling clouds are not controlled by Qiu, and the dream goes up to the empty building. The two wild geese in the cool night clearly tell me that the road to heaven is leisurely and sorrowful.
[花心动]
If you are like a flower branch, you are called Dongjun, and you can decorate it to your heart’s content every year. Dancing with embroidered flags and singing with golden bells on festivals are not just a matter of leisure. There is also a swing club on the partition wall, but it is half forgotten and full of spring. Outside the Xie Bridge, the east wind is so cold that it probes my heart. ○The years are still flowing like water. There are thousands of strands in the sky, and the silk poplars rub against each other. It's the same water west, it's time to pick tea, but people in phoenix boots are far away. Fan Wan flutters at the butterfly and makes a clear appointment. After thinking about it, I made up my mind and sang lazily. The door is closed and the fence is dry, and it is red and wet all over.
[Two Songs of Frost Leaves Flying]
The clouds are chaotic and melancholy, and outside the solitary sail, swallow trees are floating in the wind. The wild geese descended to Cangzhou first, and it rained in the cold zone. In an instant, the wheel flew past the feathers, and the dust particles were shocked to see the red mulberry trees. Afraid of leaning against a dangerous building, the sea air is close, the dusk is over, and the mood is pure while drinking. ○Not to mention the glass bowl at the North Pole, the drinking tent at the east gate, and the song of resentment is hard to sing tonight. In the simple book, the meaning of apes and birds is vast, and the words of wild chickens can be found in the sky. The dream cannot enter the calyx thread, and the discussion will go away by listening to the water and the wind. The flute of regret is left, its sound is flying, the lonely fish and dragon are looking at the place where people sleep.
People crossing the river at dusk, passing by with age, talk heavily about the autumn rain on the lamp bed. The north wind drives the geese temporarily to fly on the cold zither pillars. Accompanied by a solitary guest, the palace is broken and the feathers are broken, and there is only the pain of the cuckoo at the end of the world. Romance talks about the Fu family, Leng Mengluo, Cangbo teams, and white gulls live together. ○The long record is that the dust blows from the policy, and the floating clouds cover the eyes, and the road crosses outside the east gate. The left peak was shocked and returned to its soul, whimpering in bronze camel language. Laughter and tiredness of crossing the river overnight, the fishy dust is still near the Manjiang River. Respecting old friends, when we are tired of visiting, we will tie a spring sail and bloom with flowers.
[Five Songs to Set the Wind]
The kingfisher appears in spring in the mirror, awakening the hearts of the five lakes over the years. The beautiful plum blossoms that illuminate my eyes are blooming near the water, and I feel melancholy. The fragrance is sparse and the little red hairpin is missing. ○Don't go to the clouds to remember a thousand kinds of memories, which are useless. Come here and pour them out 100%. There is no wild goose to support the book on the river and the north. Don't talk about it. The miasma in Hainan is thousands of miles deep.
Seventy years have passed, and there are no poems left for you to drink. The sorrow of autumn is determined by old age. Only when I believe that there will be no wind and rain, it will be desolate. ○My strength has been reduced since I went up the stairs, and I have many sensations. Yanyin’s military energy is extremely high. The whole place is the same, who is there? I am in love with the setting sun in my leisure time on the railing.
The flower is close to the top of the building, the book is clear, and the water and clouds are pure and clear. Two people in one hospital become poetry companions. Tian Xu, the banished immortal is Canopus. ○The north gate of the past is strictly controlled and forgotten, so that it can be stationed in the Antarctic. I'll drink more calamus wine and drink noodles for longevity, and I'll be intoxicated with you in my dreams.
I wrote down a golden pen and sat down to watch the green dust flying around Pengdao. In the sky, spring sorrow disappears and the white hair disappears. I personally pick it up, and the white hyacinth flowers are soaked in purple clouds. ○The two become poetic companions in the same hospital. God promises that the intoxication is so heavy that it is peaceful.I have Dongpo's three hands in my sleeves, scratching my head, but filling in the poem about letting fish out in wind and rain.
off-screen Chunfan is willing to pause. Flying on the back, Yan was surprised at the beginning of the journey. Huabiaoman invites the lonely crane to stop. A few more. The wild scenery of Menghua City is green. ○It is difficult to express tears when the Longshui River is divided. The more I chant, the more I turn over the tune, but I still can’t make a sound. Don't sleep with plum blossoms. Must be drunk. The flavor of being drunk is better than waking up.
[Dream Jade Quote]
I accidentally startled Hongmeng, and I was on the Cangjiang River, but I didn't return. The moon is slanting in the sky, and I am carelessly picking up my pen to Leng Feng. The tide ebbs and flows, the journey is half over, and the bagpipes are played on the sand. The ripples in my eyes are harder to find than the moving clouds. ○The Jinping and Luofan are still scattered traces of the old joy. The mirror whispers to the stars, and the little moth is sad and lonely. Feng and lovesickness, red scales and cold weakness. Sitting alone, with frost on my back, I don't believe in the lanterns and flowers tonight.
[Yanqingdu]
饯奯奯人村 drum. The sound is urgent, and the wild geese are low and singing oars. Qiongxiao City is far away, and the flames of the anointing furnace are thin. What a beautiful spring. The calyxes in Hengxi River are delicately red, embellished with beautiful words to welcome the new year. Ren Xiangxi, the snow is falling, Hanshan is indifferent. ○The silver lotuses and green emeralds are in charge of the western boats, and the songs are calling for the bounty, and I forget to travel. Apply dry ink on the paper, dip it in a cup of light wine, and warm yourself to sleep. The wild chicken will pity Shen Meng, it is one night and several places in the heart of the country. The wind calls the mood, the sails color the New Year, and the journey to spring is on track.
[Six Ugly Three Songs]
The east wind is gradually rising again, hating the corner of the world and being unable to repay the spring. The market buildings are half dusty, the lanterns are shaking on the plain walls, and the fragrance is sparse. Time passes in darkness, there is a party, and there is a solitary post on the misty river. Whose family is playing a mid-stream tune, driving steadily in Penglai, and Liu'ao is just around the corner. The heavy waves blow their breath. Make Tage smile, and fly away without leaving a trace. ○The people behind the canopy window are silent, and the flames of the anointing furnace stand straight. The old lover Qiong Xiao is cold, who can say anything. The dream of bronze camels circles the fragrant streets, fish and dragons spread freely, and the spring city is like ink. Exchange money, enjoy a short night. In Guitengli, I am unconscious and have my own head, Su'e's true color. Take care of Luan affairs and pay for the guests. Late at night, every drop of tears will be wiped away with silver and lotus.
The plum blossom gradually fades into powder, and the green and warm colors are newly made. Half of the Jiansong River, the spring ice halo is reduced, and the dense and fragrant festival. On the edge of the thin bouquet, there are two shadows of embroidered flags, which are lifted up close to the treasure platform. The horses neighing in Fan Street are hot and dusty, the mist is fragrant and the curtains are rolling. Deep in the cold city gate. It was formed into a formation by Qiongxiao, which meandered through. ○The chanting gradually stops, and the condition invades the year and the hair grows. Remember the story, the feelings are different. Chun Fang is singing late again, and the flying clouds are splashing tiredly, and Qufang is wearing towels and socks. Silver lotus ashes, moths fly away. It's unbearable, I spent all my money in exchange for the bright moon of the old days. The song is still in the dust, but still spinning in the snow. Listening to the laughter, the outside of the fence is white, and the lead is clear and dark.
The material is fragrant and beautiful, protecting the bottom of the candle and the Qingyin Chi Pavilion. I put on my makeup late at night, and my makeup turns into a spring of jealousy. The lead is scattered. The dream revolves around the swing, lying on the red branches, surrounded by brocade. The delicate and delicate golden bells and ropes are stained with tears, and the face is bright and elegant. Ten years old fragrance still remains. Even if I lean against the railing for a salary, my mood is still bad. ○The silver screen bead foil, Nai Gugen accidentally entrusted it. Haiyan has a habit of moving around, but she has no place to stay. Luzhang has broken her promise. She has a sense of loneliness and loneliness, and Ah Huan can feel it. Love is broken, Jincheng Tianjiao. Only then did I realize that, fortunately, I don’t care about the east wind, so I can just enjoy my sorrow and joy. The setting sun is thin, but I still love the red calyx. I'm afraid that the wall will be covered with water, and the flowers will float away in the chaotic water, and no one will think about it.
[Qingboyin]
The small waves are irregular, which is a good situation for the day and the flow of the cup. The greenery is cold. The wild wind awakens melancholy. The sound of Tamase scattering in the air must be heard by someone listening to the dining clouds. Self-pity only smells the root, and it falls, chime at noon. ○I am used to traveling alone, relying on danger and Xiu, and my thoughts are uncertain. Tea is served in the furnace, and the smoke is dim. The coldness is in the nature of the mountain, and I am willing to bear the windlass to repair my fur. Sitting there, I'm afraid of a piece of ice and looking at people's dusty shadows.
[Three Songs of Six Unit Orders]
Shadows perch on the stone railings, with a few scattered jade branches. The cold ripples are desolate and green every year, and I am alone in my heart. A smile flies into the air, and the pearls turn into dendrobium. The golden house where materials are measured, the sound of flute, evokes new makeup and bamboo repair. ○Whoever believes in Kongzun will cry easily, which will ruin the spring situation. How many floating musk deer towers are fluttering in the east wind. Don't go to Qiong guest and complain about Songling song. The kingfisher is still sleeping, but the lights are closed, and the dream is moth green under the drapery.
Bisha smoke, the grudges are unfounded. It is clear that on the east side of the Song Dynasty wall, there are several layers of curtains and foils. The lanterns that support dreams are spinning, not illuminating the sadness. Later this evening, the sky is blue and the sea is blue. It is useless to miss lovesickness without knowing it. ○There are still tears in the ashes of the wax torch, dropped before the farewell feast. Luo Dai's poems are originally untitled and are woven out of ideas. There are thousands of zithers with simple hands, so don't worry about danger. The phoenix curtains and mandarin duck mats can fight the haggardness, but do you know whether the golden hairpin can't be broken off?
The paper kite passes by in the wind, supporting the road and the flute is hot. The wine flag on Jiangqiao is green, and the grass-colored skirt is connected to the waist. Thousands of red stars splash into the water, and it’s a beautiful festival. The sound of several new ears, swinging outside the rope, arouses the spring people to try their luck. ○If you don’t believe in Xuandu’s dream, you will experience all kinds of calamities. The hundred-foot incense stand has no owner, and the bell is broken intermittently.The chicken and wine bring back the soul, and the money and paper become ashes and turn into butterflies. It shines on people's faces, upright and upright, but it is the moon of the old days with peach blossoms.
[Recruitment]
The rain before autumn is rare in life, and the bed is facing each other tonight. Tired guests always have no sleep, and they only pick the remaining red sea. Thirty years of sorrow and joy have not faded away, but they are written in pottery on wine glasses. The intermittent sound of the eaves and the rustling of the windlasses are lingering at times. ○Pictures. White Ping Bo, Bian Zhou Yue, when will we call people to go east? Asking about the Five Lakes League, a group of gulls came. The scarf is still lingering. Like guest Yan, Shangmi Canshe. The water window is dawning, the bright mirror is lingering, and the plain silk is full of silk.
[Qiuji]
Don't sleep on the pillow with gurgling gurgling, the rain curtains are blocking the way, and the light is dizzy. The wan leaves are cool and noisy, the crickets are sore in the evening, and the sick and pregnant are accustomed to restrain the strength of autumn. The tired chanting takes a break. The traces of dreams linger on the water shield. Ask about the homeland. Whose family members are sitting alone in the middle of the night in a miasmatic country? ○I lie down in shock at the end of the year, the river weeds are scattered around, the fishing rod is meditating, and the poems are sparse and silent. With the westerly wind at its back, the remnants of the cuckoo are bitter, and the bronze on the temples turns white in their prime. Bu Fan can handle the matter. I'm afraid that when I wake up from the drunkenness, I will be surprised to see the lakes and mountains in the painting, the waste water for pearl fishing, and the dust-breaking new post.
[西平乐]
The bushes are worried about the crows, Lusha throws away brocade, and the thoughts of separation fall darkly in the corridor. The ink is worn on a single garment, the calligraphy is deep in the candlelight, and the clear joy and grass are covered with three frosts. Look at the fragrant and withered leaves in the mirror, and even Yuping sinks the boat. The west wind is growing old, and the wings of the underworld are gone. Who can shake the dust of the world and return to the north safely? ○The curtains of flowers are in bloom, the fairy books reflect the palms, the anthers clear the lake, and the rainbow moon shines brightly. He can't disappear, he can talk about strange rocks, he has hollowed out the spiritual chariot, and he has said that he is very worried. Liang Yan comes again, the nest is rustling with dust, the furnace ears are stunned, and she looks to the horizon with despair. Let's stop working on the wine bar. Who can point to the setting sun?
[Three Poems on Willow Shaoqing]
A corner of the wind ripples, the scales blow away, and the brocade feathers carry them back. The escort team is trying to catch the clouds, but they are unable to play with pearls, and the bright mirror is lingering. ○The empty boat self-resolves and forgets the machine, the collar is diffuse, and the red makeup is slightly green. Sansu Lakes and Mountains, twenty years of dust, who is right and who is wrong.
Small ironed paper, cigarette root exposed pistil, Qianying personally passed down. The pink body is twinned, Huang Yan has a dream, and the thin negative is Chan Juan. ○Every year, the mountains are empty when listening to the rain, but they cannot disappear, and the flowers in the sky are blooming wonderfully. Don't ask about the east wind, how beautiful and fragrant it is, the leaves are in a state of Zen.
The orchids are green at night, the jade flutes are cold, and the brocade is silent. The moon falls on the lonely tower, and the clouds travel halfway across the gorge. Who wakes me up from my sorrow? ○Lingering and uncertain about his life, I can knock on it and find the jade in the west chamber. In order to repay Qingluan, I can see the bottom of Mei'an Temple and remember the words clearly.
[Sweeping Flowers Tour]
The sky is light in color, the river is dark with apricot leaves, and the breeze is gentle. The freezing waves rolled up. The feeling of sadness seems to be pity, and the old sand gull is in chaos. Look at the cold spring red, carefully step on the Yaoguang mirror at dawn. Calling Wu Chuan, I am afraid of the secluded surroundings of the five lakes, and the dream of flowers is rare. ○The view of the building is still misty. It's a chaotic mirage floating in the cold, and broken jade shining brightly. Spring is over. Being cut off by Concubine Qiong, the curtains are warm and graceful. The plum blossoms are flying on the tired flute, and the tune of Jiangcheng has changed. Liu Mianzao. By mistake, people in Dongyuan and Feng Shoes were swept.
[Jade Link]
Flowers sing and take off clothes fragrantly. Meng Yunxiao. Shatang's sculls are as beautiful as the dust, filled with sorrow and waves. ○The wind sets the catkins in the pavilion. The nightingale gossips. No matter how cold the spring is, I sit and watch under the setting sun.
[Two Songs of Flowers on the Road]
The cold wind blows from the north, and the clear weather suppresses the snow in the east. The fragrance of sleeping ducks spreads everywhere, and the smoke disappears next door. Qingmen remembers or not, ten miles of poplar silk is broken. The jade note is even brighter than the dream. The wax torches are withered, but the Han Palace still has a festival of fragrant flowers. ○ I am worried about the day, and Du Yu is bleeding. The spring urges me to go to the rafters, and the waves are catching, and the dangerous fences are patted all over, and then I can believe the mournful song. Sitting in the middle can tell. It is said that the journey is difficult, and I deliberately say goodbye to you.
The column branches are too low, and the bird traces on the book moss are broken. The fragrance of the spring apricot porridge stimulates new fire. The flowers are in the wine bin, and a cocoon is wrapped in sorrow. Sitting around with stacks of books. It's dark in the afternoon, and the patient is lying down. ○ Hongfang has no owner, and she is happy to plan every year. In the turbulent day of spring, who is locked up, the rivers and lakes are all over the ground, and the dream leads to the wind blowing by the woodcutter. Wild gulls are more lazy than me. If we look for each other, there should be someone outside the world.
[Lychee fragrant near]
The official bridge is covered with frozen mist, and the lamps and lanterns are double painted. The west wind blows through the curtain, blowing the dark Lingbo Road. A little bit of cool toad in the east of the sky guides visitors to peek into Zhuhu. After singing, the graceful zither and wild geese are still talking. ○The tour is light and diffuse, taking pictures all over the river and Liang. At the end of the year, the river is empty, and they win the love of tiredness and get married. In the heart of the red candle building, will you be sober and heartbroken at the end of the world? The dream committee is a wisp of clouds.
[Light yellow willow]
The east wind is strong in the evening, blowing the plum blossoms into snow. Seeing the Jiangcheng Cold Food Festival. The fallen willow postal pavilion is getting greener, and the ten days have passed since then. ○Feast and song break. Happy farewell to spring. Hit the sculls and visit the peach leaves. Wu Tianke and Yan Han are all left. The night after, I missed my lovesickness, where are the traces of dreams, coming and going in the light moon of the green stream.
[Three Poems of Frost Flowers]
I am familiar with the five lakes, so when spring comes, I am afraid of dust. The kitchen near the water is clear, and the broken mountain is close. It is still difficult to live in seclusion.The wine glass is wide, tied to old love, and will always stay in front of the flowers. Counting Cangbo, facing the idle gulls on the mat, the troubles and sorrows will not send away the late alliance and the cold. ○ Luo Shu and several people took shelter, sighing that the wind branches were not settled, and the cicadas were startled by their complaints. The chess game is new and sad, the lamp bed is full of old words, and the complicated chanting is limited to flying notes. To rent a painting boat, I owe Cuimei and Singxiu Bianjuan. With the sun setting behind my back and leisurely cooking, Xiaofeng looks in the mirror.
Weary guests in the hall thank you, wake up the west wind, and dream of old Wu Gao. Tobacco Hengtang, jade plum blossom pavilion, Ci Xian went to live in boredom. The purple flute is full of love, it's late at night, and the moon is bright over the South Bridge. Accompanying the old house every year, there are short and long strips of willows with yellow crows. ○The host and guest have traveled against each other for hundreds of years, so they have a seat as a dodder and a fisherman. Zhu Di is in the sky, Qingmen is in spring, and the frost and flowers are drunk and the ink is fluttering. The tired soul is waiting for a call, the material is scratched, and the love is still resurgent. Those who cross the river wander to the north of the mountain, and the swallows return to their nests.
A stranger in a foreign land, I asked a few people to respect me and forgot to wander. The sky is full of red sounds, the chrysanthemums are late and autumn is tired, and the pool platform is chaotically leaning against the frost and clear sky. Sitting without veterans, bear the old madness and stop weeping in the new pavilion. Just filling the chest, the block must be poured, and the sorrow will not be equal to the wine wave. ○ No matter how many difficulties there are, I will know that this is not my land, and I have endured the loneliness. The golden valley sings about businessmen, the jade mountain supports drunkenness, and wastes half a day's floating life. The picture rails are even more beautiful, and the smoke and lingering light are ruthless. Next year, hold on to the dogwood and seek the old alliance with its evening fragrance.
[Two Songs of Ruilong]
Wugao Road still has green sills with vines and trees on the terrace. Every year the cold food comes from the east wind, which resents Luo and hates Qi, which makes spring disappear. Standing still with tired chants, the singing bird cherishes the urge to return, and the lover is in the hall. Travelers from the far end of the world can be crazy, talking about flowers and wine, talking in their sleep. ○Infinite floating clouds and thoughts, leaning shyly on short skirts, rocking poplars and dancing wildly. Guiyan is accustomed to anger and empty curtains, and people's intentions are not due to reason. Apply make-up and blur the color, write hurtful sentences. Never before have I seen the clouds screen my eyes with tears, and the fragrant dust step back. The mirror turned red. Leaning on the railing to wait for things to happen, my thoughts are cut off at dusk. Overlapping worries become strands. He is old and the lights are falling and the rain is falling. The night is long and fast, and there is a kite of dust.
On the bridge in the city, I still lie on the willow and blow the cotton, and go to the waves to practice. The curtain pavilion in Fangchen is stunned, it is drizzling at dusk, and the hairspring is spinning. If the arrows are leaked, it is easy to drink up the wine by singing songs, and the old lapels will be splashed. The black clothes are also timid and cold, I wake up from the dream of Xie Tang, and the spring clouds are late. ○Throw away all your youthful past, people who cross the river will grow old, and they will travel far into the sky. The orchids are still growing in Wei'er, and the wrong roads are in disorder. Withered red and diseased green, this evening's sorrow is hopeless. Without saying goodbye, the candle in the west window burned out, and the bell in the south neighbor was broken. Sit and read the incense scroll. When people are sleeping, the clear songs gradually fade away. Happy mood and lazy east wind. The gift is empty, and Wu Niang laments and plays the zither. The most cherished thing in the later period is the Hengtang sail piece.
[Autumn Night Song]
The water window is empty and the torch is bright. The dream wakes up and disappears in the autumn hall. Still leaning on the pillow, it is foggy and rainy, and the insects swallow the dawn. When managing worries, it seems like chaos. I have been away from Jiangbiao for three years. The place where the condensation disappears is where the late waves are wandering and the grass is fading in the sky. ○We will lose all the green hills, but we will not be able to do it, and we will see each other in old age. The disease invaded Pan Ling, and he hated Jiang Lang so much that he looked into the mirror and had frost on his temples. The cool breeze comes early at the end of the day. The rivers and lakes are full of sight, and the wild geese believe in Yao. Afraid of tall buildings, counting the stream of light, the sound of horizontal bamboo blowing, full of resentment.
[Longshan Club]
There is no wind in autumn, so the garden is desolate, and the willow tower is in Asia. The sails of the Five Lakes are not straightened, and the shadows on the temples are peeking under the Liuhua Bridge. Return to Xinhong on the side of the formation, leading the forest and mountain eyebrows to be green. In the tired and fragrant period, the cool bushes are musk and millet. The wind blows with gold. ○ I still remember the song of Yi Shang, with white eyes and blue sky, trying the arrogant horse of Wuling. Chu Wei shook his head and fell behind. The flow is full of hatred, and the west wind lingers in the night next to the flute. After ten years of traveling in Beijing, the bottom of the cup is full of water, and the waves are pouring out in disorder. The house is full of drunkenness, there is an appointment to wait for the owl, and the barbarian car is hanging behind.
[An Gongzi]
The rainy night dims the garden, and the sound of wind leaves blows in the empty pavilion. If you are tired of pouring a deep cup, you will not get drunk, just wait for Nan Qiao. In the dark, frost toads hang on the shadow wall. There is no such thing as backlighting or lying down. Gradually, the bamboo sticks moved sadly, and the beautiful roses blew down. ○The overlapping fish calligraphy is like a blur, and when people are avoiding people, they chant and look at each other and become sad and surprised. What happened the day before, the bitter east wind faded away. The dream says that when the feast is over, don’t let the danger end. Luan mirror dust, there are Cangzhou paintings. The yellow pond of Xizhu is cold, as if the sunset has not yet set.
[Yu Zhuxin]
Lead Frost and Shadow Yang. It is the sorrow of spring in the broken jian, like the palace of pistil pearls. In the Shechen courtyard, the east wind blows out, swirling the tassels into trusses. The hairpin beams are not up, but they are all covered with acacia flower nets. Look upright, you will see a faint cloud, and you will be ashamed to offer a new reward to the young man. ○ I am wearing a new makeup, but I am afraid of short dreams of Penglai and the Forbidden City. The fragrances are gathering and avoiding, and things are falling apart. I wonder who is close to the solitary root. The lush jade barrier relieves you from deep sleep and brings you a graceful and graceful life. Don't earn money. I am a wine-loving person who smokes the cage at night.
[Hua Xuyin]
The new moss condenses on the foundation, the idle bird peeks at the curtain, and the orchid is bathed in the old festival. The sound of painting drums is low, and the flames of burning furnaces are short and worried about seal knots. If you don’t believe that the neighboring flute is frightening, it will help Xiaoyin to sob miserably. There are two pomegranates in the corner, which faded red and still have pleats on the skirt. ○The plum rains in the south of the Yangtze River send away the departed souls, and the resentment flows through the wild rice leaves.Chu Yun's chapters and sentences are half deep in autumn's heart. Where does Jin return to sail in the evening? He hates that the road is long and the waves are broad. Hebi is ridiculous, who can answer the question?
[Two poems on mountains and flowing water]
Jianghe River does not move in the gentle breeze. Counting the autumn period, the green onions are everywhere. Outside the flowers, jade goose plays music, and the dusk rhymes with the beginning of the night. There is leisure and sorrow, and the saliva is green and red. Accompanied by the needle, there are many faint clouds in the courtyard, and the candlesticks are painted. Dip three stars and turn it carefully, and the dripping dew will become thicker. ○In the machine. The brocade book hates it every year, and it is based on the saying and the green water of the Xuan Palace. It is easy to miss a good night, and the dream will bring you a lot of fragrant velvet. Xiaodiaoling and Jinyu are partial workers. It's a matter of man and nature, and it's easy to make a fortune in Luochi, a tired guest, sober up and clear the clock. The sparse curtain under the curtain is broken, and the old love in the hairpin box is lost.
The Forbidden City's French music is cold Zhu Xian. The dragon sings and the wind and rain rumble. When the banquet is held, the rhyme of southern smoke flows into the flowing spring. The river is clear and slow, and the corners of the river are turning over again. Where Chenyou is, the sound of immortals fills the sky, and he joins the Cangguan. He Chunlei's other hall, in front of the imperial incense. ○Unprovoked. Qingcheng is thousands of miles away, and the yellow swan spectrum should refer to the cold autumn. Messy apricot blossom poems, dreams of thousands of rivers and mountains. Asked about the colorful clothes and how many times the smoke floated. I have few close friends, and I touch the tears of my lonely ministers, and express my sorrow and sorrow. The sound of the palace of hatred will never return, and the words of the long bird are desolate.
[Linjiang Xianman]
The wind is blowing, the wind is blowing, the cold birds are buzzing, and the willows are growing tall. Outside the painted bridge, the setting sun shines brightly into the fading lotus. go through. In the old dream-seeking place, there are heavy clouds and ripples. Go and have fun, change the fireflies to look at the mat, and sing in the wild water. ○ whirling. Gold plate and green wine, there is nothing to worry about tonight, so I linger in Conggui, there are not many old moons. by him. Naiqin Tower was blocked, the book was wrongly dated, and there were two moths of resentment. Finally haggard, for someone to look at the mountains and rivers.
[Two Songs of Snow Plum Blossoms]
The wine is weak, and I stand alone against the west wind. I am anxious about the tall buildings, and it is easy for me to feel the autumn mood in the horizon. It rained all day long at Tingzhou, and the water culvert near the bridge curtain was empty. I am in a hurry to leave, hoping to break the book period, and meander to Binhong. ○Hurry. Lead Li Xu and Zhu layman's clouds, and paint Wu Feng lightly. The old country is fragrant, but the leaves will fade into red. The ancient city is rocking the ground, and I am lying on the screen with sorrowful dreams about the coming year. As before, the pillow is heavy with fatigue, and the soul is broken and sparse.
The rain is endless, and the sails are wet all over the river city. Facing Kongdu, the green curtain of swirling waves is dark. Mix the Hongyin water tower flute, swing the fireflies and light up the city bridge lights. On the evening of the lunar month, the road to the fairyland is vast and we are about to welcome you. ○Lingren. Ten years of events, told to Man Jian, are like a dream and doubtful. Tired of wandering south of the Yangtze River, Yu Lang lived in sorrow ever since. Jiuzhanqiu acquaintance with the disease news, candlelight in the morning to change the guest's mood. It also invaded the pillow, thousands of leaves were shocked, and there was no sound of foreign business.
[Caiyungui]
The spring clouds are near the tall buildings day and night. Good scenery, green and red harvest. When I return from a frightened dream, the phoenix candle is languishing on the ground, and melancholy things are called out for no reason. There are new grievances in front of you, colorful clouds, singing at the end of Wu Tian. I am busy chatting happily, but the old Yankong remains. ○Have a rest. Jiangnan hates the land, and asks Qingcheng what to prepare for. A wave of water is gone, and the water is scattered, and the water flows westward. Even if I don't come, I will sing and dance, and the orchid boat will be wet with tears. Passing through again, rivers of grass and flowers, new sorrows along the way.
[Yulinling]
The crow cries astringently. Near Lianqiao Road, it is dark and rainy. Wherever the lonely cloud passes, the doors and alleys are in chaos, and there are traces of moss and flowers. The thin dark current swirled up, and gradually the dust moved the wall. Very Yanyan, Qiyu is adjacent to the east, and no one here knows how to play the flute. ○The end of the world is sober and soul-destroying. But suddenly, the ground and the sky were filled with tears. The articles were in vain, scattered and scattered, and the remaining writings were left in Maoling. The solitary chants in the night should be taken into consideration for the present day and the cold food. When the paper is cut and the soul is summoned again, the dream is broken and the maple forest is black.
[西河]
Singing and weeping, the broken lamp can still be remembered. The ashes of calamity are close at hand on the railings, and the night is full of mosquitoes. The people in the thatched cottage go to the sky, and the western mountains peek into the laughing eaves. ○Who can lean on the old garden tree again? The empty boat seems to have no ties. For the sake of the king, Xu Yuyan came back, retreated from the cold and abandoned the base. Menghua sleeps in the autumn of Beijing, and the idle gulls fall in love with smoke and water in the sky. ○ After the drunkards are gone, they ask Huang Long and talk to their neighbors. Sad about Xieyang's life experience. Afraid of the bronze camel, the yellow dust on the broken road, the tall buildings in the northwest, and the floating clouds.
[Yangchunqu]
I was sad last year, but this year, I still look forward to spring with despair. There is a good east wind in the curtain door, dusk is approaching, and the swallows return to the painted beams. Lighting season. Shocking the homeland, plum blossoms fall like snow. Only then did I believe that the powder was red and sticky, and I woke up from drunkenness. Easy to become news. ○Wanting a banquet, Dongyuan Jianqun Road. Who makes an appointment by mistake, the flowers in the book are written on the leaves. Now the song dust is all green, splashing with echoes and rolling tears. New voice but with twilight. Even more upset, the jade dragon blows through. Look out the door, watch the passing water and drift flowers, and go to the south of the Yangtze River to enjoy the dream.
[Sacrifice to the gods]
Look at the length of Chutian and the dusk rain. The passers-by are stopped, and the cries of wild geese are painful amid the sound of garrison drums. It is sad to wear orchids in autumn, and Wu Dengyu wakes up from a dream. Lying down with the west wind at your back, the distant Cangjiang River is far away at dusk. Don't be too careless to touch the dragon's anger. ○Even more desolate, the sun sets on Xinting Road.The mountains and rivers and the different scenery are the questions of the present and the past. How can it be that despite the vicissitudes of life and the war that destroyed the family, Yu Xin wrote a poem about the south of the Yangtze River.
[Lang Tao Sha Slow]
The cold brings frost and water, and the dark rain cries the leaves. The eaves are beating with sorrow, and suddenly the curtains and stirrups tremble and their shadows disappear. There are continuous threads and continuous spring threads. On that day, Luan and Luan were getting married. When they asked Gu Jing and Miao Wu what they were dreaming about, Xu Qianchen actually threw them away. ○ It is sad and sad, the brocade book is sent far away, and finally I stop reading about jade. I have a golden bed in the west wind night, and the misty wild goose swallows it. Sighing and breaking off the robe, I would rather believe that I don't hate my heart. I fold it in front of a bright mirror and take the center like the moon. ○But the peaks are shoveled, and they are as flat as the Yellow River. The huge rivers are surrounded by dust and dry up. Angry thunder rises, Yuandong returns to summer snow. More than a thousand years old, relying on the pestle to destroy the thickness of the sky, and the deep alliance between the earth and the world, there will be no lingering relationship.
[国香MAN]
A frame of the soul of Hunan, the water is vast and the smoke is dim. Jiang Gao was haggard and haggard, leaving Lingjun with him. What are the poems written by Rimu Tong? There are Chanyuan and Beizhu Guchian. The fragrance of the country is wandering, without allowing the east wind to change the soil and move the roots. ○After years of hatred for the country’s subjugation, the copper plate is cold and the lead is stained by tears. The Forbidden City is far away, and there will be no spring in the goose tube. To make up for the remaining records of Xuanhe, the kings and grandsons will disappear as they grow old. Don't be annoyed by flowers, step into the waves, and be filled with autumn dust.
[quyuguan]
Wild fire sticks to the embankment, cold clouds bite the base, and the frost sky makes the sun fly. Guests can climb up the stairs to see nothing, and there is no way to see the declining willow trees. Complete ileum. Discussing military affairs with a cold eye, sipping wine with a worried heart, there are not many scenery to sing and appreciate. What I love most about the green hills is that I look northward in a hurry. Send slave country. ○The domineering spirit is depressed, leaving whimpering, and the resurgence is pouring eastward, and Yongjia is flowing in, but Yu Shubao is sad. Feeling confused. And the jade dragon blows up, like a scale of west wind, the country is like this, a few winding railings stand out against the setting sun.
[Qingchun Palace]
The decaying battlements hold smoke, the bells in the pavilion are watery, and the wild cuckoos call out to the Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade headbands are vaguely spiritual to the poets. The new tune is melancholy, but a spring flower still recommends fragrance. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Tears drop thousands of dendrobiums, fighting for a long time, Hanyuan Zongsheng. What's the point of being left alone? My life experience is uncertain, so don’t ask the disabled monk.
[Drunken Old Man Cao]
嶕峣, Danjiao, Zhumao. If you are entrusted and run away, no one will attack you. The thousand-year-old hill will return to its nest. The old man's thoughts are wandering, and he sings and ballads. The old fisherman and woodcutter said to me how many of them there were. ○After the present power is gone, I will return to Liao without a dream. You'an's tears disappeared with her white clothes and soap hat. There are trees in the mountains but the wind whistles, there is an end to the sea but the waves are rolling, and there is no twilight morning when I miss you. There is no need to work as a matchmaker with the same mind. The fighting handle is swaggering, and the Wangjing Tower looks at the sky.
[Qianqiu Sui]
Jade Yuqiong Tower, green emerald ladle, regardless of the spring frowning calyx. The old branches of the flowers are still blooming, and the sticky and falling catkins are still floating. The dowry is made of gold and brocade quilt is made of iron. ○Last night I dreamed about love affairs, but tonight I will think about them again. It’s a pity to make an appointment with Yunmengtai. At first, don't worry as much as the sea, but now you are as thin and heavy as your waist, with four strings and five patterns of embroidery, but you are leisurely.
[Qi's]
The moon is bright and the east wind is the east wind. Fire and silver flowers intersect, Qi and Qi trees intersect, and brocade becomes a cluster. Long Cong, good curtains, singing orioles and dancing swallows in a hurry. The tired guests in Cangjiang sing at night, and the three or five people here are of the same mind. The city is warm and moths are noisy, the trees are buzzing with crows, and the rosy clouds are reflected in the celestial beings. Count money in exchange for it, the running water is short and the night is short, and the spring sky is blowing to the ground. ○Looking back at the emperor's journey to Tai, Ao rides the phoenix and blows, and meanders along the green Cong. Yaotai Road, green and charming, red and graceful, with heavy pipes and silk. Thousands of hibiscus. In the cyanotic mirror, the fragrance of clothes is close at hand, walking from west to east. As time goes by, the candles turn, and I pat the railing quietly, looking northwards dimly. ○It is not a leisure mood, urging Ni to sing, playing tricks on spring work. When I asked if I could see Widow'e, I went to the flowers and drank wine. When I was young, my laughter spread around me, I was drunk with a pickaxe banquet, and I dreamed of being paid a fortune. Fei Niannu, haggard Qingge sent. The eternal hatred and lingering damage to Qunong. The night window remains, and the wax fades red. When I read the Fang Festival, my sleeves are wet with tears and the dragon bells are wet. It is very cold in spring. Drums are painted on Fan Street, and there are many fish and dragons.
[Cherish the Yellow Flower Slowly]
The love of Chu Ke is fragrant. I can avoid it after a dream, and the spring wine is in the full moon. Close the door and live in the world, quietly leaning against the white temples. The roots are resistant to late growth and are stained with bee yellow due to shame. Holding flowers and worrying about lonely butterflies. The old fence is almost desolate. Read the emperor's hometown, recommend autumn handsome appreciation, drifting away from the heavy frost. ○Ten years of living across the Cangjiang River. A few points of splattered English are shed by old tears. In the later period, I was lonely, Chu Yun was in the late festival, the dust was half gone, and the oatmeal sun was setting. Thin posture does not dare to hurt the old age, it is cherished, and the curtain is made up of autumn. The most heartbreaking, the night quilt is full of fragrance.
[Bo Xing]
Yoshiki in the back hall. A moment of fun, the mood of dusk. Not used to it, the soul of spring is unchecked, and the wind is floating around the river bridge. The branches and flowers are lying in the east garden, and the spring roots are heavy with lovesickness sentences.Then the colorful flute will be used to recite the song, and the golden person will be drinking wine, urging the neighbors to play the new flute music. ○It is also a self-explanation and a series of errors. I can't bear it, and parrots are chatting outside the green window. How often do you know that there is no place for flowers outside the door, but there is a beautiful silk thread hanging around when you are idle. Regardless of wind and rain. But the eyes are wandering and tearful, and I can't see anywhere in the world. Dangerous fences are everywhere, and my heart is knotted with clouds.
[A Cluster of Flowers]
The clouds are like ink stains and decaying walls, evenly painted with brocade. Who said that a graceful and graceful body is suitable for a palace body? I can't dream of it, but it floats on the fence of a musk deer. There is no one to repay the rain of news, and each of us spends the cold spring. ○It’s hard to talk to people when I have two swallows flying on my back. Fangchun is like a guest who has grown old. He has no distinction and returns to you with a handsome face. It's better to look at it when you wake up than to waste your time and get drunk.
[Gatepu Lianjin]
The mandarin ducks have had a cool dream. Autumn is graced by the Western Pavilion. Let’s stop dancing in neon clothes and make an appointment next year. Xia Yanzhuang avoids the dawn. Xiang'e smiled. Qianying Lingbo is small. ○ Annoyed by flowers. Xifeng married late, and the house was empty and heart-wrenching. The idle gulls looked at each other coldly, and the people across the river were divided into old people. The dust mirror is left to take a photo of itself. Sad tune. How many grievances there are between the two branches.
[Yanshan Pavilion]
The spring beauty of the country is overwhelming, the golden house is put on makeup, and the beautiful glow is illuminated to add charm. The Zhu Pei Cui Ying, dipped in the pen and the fragrance of heaven, suppressed the new score of Luoyang. In exchange for the robbery of Yanzhi, it is still chapped and dyed, and Yaotai is exposed to wind and dew. Sharing the payment, accompanying the wandering Husha, apricot blossom words and phrases. ○He was once crowned with beauty, and had a jade table and palace silk, and he was praised as much as he could. I carry the flowered deer in my hand, and when the person who hangs the list comes, there are vague clouds lingering around me. Several passes are clear and flat, so they should not be called, relying on the sound of the family. Standing in sorrow, the red calyx has been red for a long time, and no one is in charge.
[Mei Ling across the stream]
The new year is full of flutes and drums in the east, but the old love is empty. The withered face in the mirror is red with candles, and I feel sad that I am already dead! ○Xianmenfangxin is more carefree than others. Ask Dongfeng: Is it the same as last year or different in the depth of wine glass?
[Fragrant Grass Ferry]
Dream rain drops, green frost waves rise again, and fine dust scatters. The fallen maples are shining on the shore, and the red and yellow colors are on display in the rock paintings. Lin Biao toad mirror hanging. Welcome the boat to the east. It's getting late, the weather is cold, but I am carrying my hometown community behind me. ○To provoke. After drinking, I became sad, tired of thinking about Shuangxi Yuyin's words. Then he won, the green mountain fell, and he pondered about the handle of the fishing rod. The atmosphere of the sea is full of people, many Yan, fish and dragon repair the night. After asking for a long time, listen carefully to the beating of sail drums.
Qin Yunmiao, Chu soul is injured. Get up in the middle of the night and think alone. A comic book with small characters on red paper. Knock with both hearts, and behind the elbows, there is a sachet. ○Throw the jade ruler and burn the silver spring. Who will sit with you on the Acacia bed? Old flowers and new leaves must be equal. Balcony Road, new and acquired, two mandarin ducks.
[Shihuxian]
The wind is gone. At the end of the year, there is a fragrant news from Xi'an. Who is the little red hairpin, crazy about poetry, and the barbarians are taking advantage of it. Yanluo joins hands and wants to shine together, clear spring and red powder. No points. Accompanied by green birds, the paper tent crows. ○The moon is bright and fragrant. Sanjiang City, old hatred in the flute. At dusk in the frozen post, I will be sure that my timid jade muscles will be damaged. The moss on the outside of the bamboo is dry, and the snow on the temples is withering, and the style is full of spring charm. The flower dream is stable, but the cold night must be endured forever.
[Dongpo Yin]
drags Xiao Xueji. Exploring plum blossoms in wrong years. A furnace of Phytolacca sat at the bottom of the window. Qu Teng can only sleep. Qu Teng can only sleep. ○The peppercorns are no longer sung, but the butchered Su is tasteless. It is also forbidden to use the words "Yichun" and "Yichun". The neighbor explained the matter of knocking for peace. The New Year and the bright moon are. The New Year and the bright moon are.
[Han Gong Chun]
At the third watch of the miserable month, thoughts return to the broken soul, and the cry can turn red. How many tears hurt the spring, blowing up the east side. Wet the silk scarf and try on the trendy makeup to make your hair look slightly rosy. The new imperial edict is a gift, a nest of auspicious brocade, Zhaoyang is still in a daze when facing the mirror. ○ Carrying a tree but wasting his talent and thinking makes Jinqiao deeply resentful and teases the flowers and velvets. Youth is accustomed to staying in idle land, and does not complain about the east wind. The dream of crane forest is short, and the lonely bamboo root splits the mountain sky. When I smell the sweet fragrance and cry softly, when will I add more treasures?
[Wind into the Pine Two Songs]
The hair on the temples is slightly intoxicated by the smoke and dust of the medicine, which can be cured by illness. In the floating life, I have realized the dream, and the fragrance of Buddha is left with me. Sitting on the bed in chaos, the autumn soul still rests firmly. ○It is rare to see new green clothes in public, and God is tired of complaining about people. It's not my pity that the boat was born. I hesitated to ask about the details of hanging the sail. The wild goose is full of shock waves, and in the later stage, there are many irregularities.
The auspicious clouds cover Nanzhou, and the two cranes add to the beauty. I know from afar that there is a new sound in the Qingping screen of Jiaqing, and the music and government complement each other. The chrysanthemums in Litan Lake are beautiful, and the mulberry trees in the East China Sea are soft. ○The immortal Weng Jin wears water and clouds in autumn, and sings about Cangzhou. Several peppers and plum blossoms are patrolling the eaves and laughing, and the sky is full of spring entering Qiongou. Next year, at the scenic spot of Magpie Peak, colorful clothes will wrap around your knees and fragrance will float on them.
[Zui Penglai]
Looking to the south, the clouds look like a cover, with clusters of green flowers, and pavilions and halls to the north. The family celebration screen is opened, and the Qiongzhiyao banquet is warm. The East China Sea is mulberry soft, the Nanyang chrysanthemums are blooming, and the scenery is clear and autumn evening. In the mood of an inch of grass, I hold incense and pay my respects to the star in Antarctica. ○The fairy man of the pink department, Caifan returns, in front of Sangpu Mountain, Banyu ascends the calendar. The new voice of Yuefu, the fairy wings of Qingluan.The scent of cinnamon is strong, and the fairy cooks the preserved meat, cooked by Magu herself. A song of orchid is passed down to the guests of the Tao family.
[Magpie Bridge Immortal]
The old dream of Wuling, the new covenant of Wuhu, and wandering around the world. In front of you, I inspect the last year's people and make offerings to them through the medicine furnace. ○The gentleman is wise, he hides his bag and veils his hat, and even when he smiles, he has no trace of himself. The new painting with green eyebrows is heart-warming, and it depicts distant mountains facing each other.
[Xizizhuang]
The horse is driving the candle slanting, the flute is playing on the back, and the waves are half empty. Covered by frosty yellow willows, I have many sorrows, I am separated from my feelings, and I lie on the bridge in the sand. Smell the chicken and dance. Let's do business and live in idle clouds. The dream of becoming a marquis is a brocade velvet hat and a jade flute. ○British travel error. At the end of the year, the sky rises, shooting tigers into the barren mountains. I drank wine and wiped Wu Gou several times, and the dark night illuminated the remaining trees in the countryside. Xiao Guan's poems are concise, his poems are changed to Jiang's table, and he ascends the building to write a poem. The dark scars on the lapels are worthy of the feast and the rain of tears.
[Man Tingfang]
Shu State's ice strings, Husha dust pillars, and the double sandalwood clutches and clutches thousands of times. A few songs in the spring breeze, a small change in Yuefu. At the inner banquet, I drank the wine and took the opportunity to take pictures. I once looked at the sun with my red sleeves. Sadly, the jade is scattered, just a piece of clothing. ○In Dongtang, I once knew the music. I pressed the six modalities and swallowed the Qing Shang alone. The pheasants and roosters flew down from the carved hall. Ande has two voices: crimson tree, glazed armor, and dragon incense. In the human world, thunder breaks the pillars, and the words rise and fall.
金沙鴴鄄 smoke. There are flowers falling in the wind, and snow catkins floating in the air. The words and sentences that urge Fu will leave, and the waves will be like dust. The halo of the full moon is like a golden basin. According to the farewell feast, the dusk is in a hurry. The bananas on the road to Liozhan are red, and the trees in Baqiu are green, which is like the spring in Fengcheng. ○Cai Bian Road, Huangyan Tun. The situation is full of hatred, and the sake alliance is new. It is said that the wind and moon in Yingzhou are respected by the piano in the thatched cottage. Tomorrow is from Yangguan. Ten thousand heavy, clear and cold clouds. The dream lingers around the edge of the glass, and the traces on the soul are left at the end of the world.
[Mei Wu]
Recognize the text and return to the phoenix, the shadow falls and the giant is startled, and the autumn water half dawns. The seal script expresses sympathy for each other, the rhombus flower is thin, and the pingting makeup is accompanied by a scarf and hat. The beautiful eyebrows are tiredly swept, reflecting the east side of the stream, and the red bean branches are small. Confession is like a shadow of vicissitudes of life, carrying wind and sadness. ○Who would have thought that Yutai people would grow old. The remaining mountains are cold and the copper halo shines alone. After the thick hair has been thrown away, the heavens shed tears, and the spring comes and the heart breaks and the flowers appear. The crimson clouds are lingering around, and there are so many musk boxes and red emeralds. I remember seeing the round figure in person, smiling charmingly with the full moon.
[lateral offender]
It is easy to get tired when traveling in a strong way, and the guest taste disappears after twenty years. Who sends. It is to exchange candles for flowers and wine. After waking up from the dream of Jianghu, I began to believe that the article was cheap. circulation. Very green ink and red teeth are still worthy of companionship. ○The old moon in Pingzhou, the rhyme of the flute and the distant sky. The food arrived. In the autumn of Gutang, it is not too late to return to the crane. Tired of taking pictures of colorful clothes, anxious to persuade. A woodcutter song is waiting for you to sing.
[Parrot Song]
The two teeth are washed with moss and copper is ancient. The spirit of hatred turned into cold ashes, and hung on the wall in a prostitute for safekeeping. ○The names of the ninety-nine workers are carefully written, and the Xuanhe map is embellished. Ask who can kill the wolf with his hands, and play the ibis with heavy drums and music.
[Yongyule]
The setting sun is setting over the rivers and mountains, and the wind is shaking the grass and trees, so where is the base? The iron halberd is smelly and the sand is fishy, the sword and ship are flashing, and the heart is broken to conquer the south road. The spirit flags and armored horses are still there for people to point out, and they still remember the desolate garrison back then. Remember the city, the clouds are as dark as ink, and the crows explain the misery. ○I am old when I join the army. I have a boat and a heavy boat. Who can take the book and sword? Xiao Ji. The Xiang River is ruthless, Wu Yang has hatred, and he only seeks Guihong's words. The skills of Qingtian and the bones of the feudal princes were all sent to the east by the angry waves. I asked Yidi, if the jackdaws defeated the willows, did I blame others?
[Resent to the spring breeze]
The smoke from Yujing willows. It’s hard to miss lovesickness. The cry marks in the dream are only known by the sleeves. Hateful and weak, not worthy of Luo Yi. ○It’s too late to wake up from the lingering wine in an empty hall. Why ask about suffering? The spring will be judged by Iraq. At ten thousand o'clock in the morning, the flowers fly into the east wind, and they will no longer sway the empty branches.
[Two Songs of Flowers in the Rain]
Return to the dream of the clouds and waters of Shizhou. Do it out, spring cold is special. There are rhombus silk on the road, peach leaves blowing in the waves, and what plan can be achieved by beating the oar. ○ Dao Bo is lucky and the flag pavilion is drunk all night long. Who knows, the deep love of a thousand pieces of gold. An inch of transverse wave, how could the bottom of the flower have ever missed the rest of spring?
The new drunk next to Jinse. He also ordered Xu and Qian Quhui. When you enter the curtain and surround yourself with flowers, you will get crabs in the prison state, and everything will be done. ○Manly laugher, no good plans in life. The narrow road is in the old land of Lingbo. The wild crane flew low, the official frog roared angrily, and deliberately avoided each other.
[Yugezi]
The calamity flies away, and the palace leaks. The clear tears of the Bronze Immortal are like falling lead. Looking at the Central Plains, there is a mountain of hair. After a while, the flying geese suddenly disappear. ○The grass is like frost and the sand is like snow. The prismatic stone brings time. Longtou Yin, the sound gradually swallowed. A bright moon in the sky.
[Two Pieces of Drunk Yin Shang's Pieces]
I still remember whether it is Juntian, and the dream is full of peach reminders. The next year brings joy and resentment, and the phoenix builds the west wind banquet. Replace with a thousand points of worry. Furong Old Garden.
is the old days of flying low, swallows flying around the flowers a thousand times. When the spring warms up in the hall, it’s time to put on a new look.I wish the east wind does not care. The dust is full of hatred.
[Three Songs of Hu Tao Lian]
Two pairs of phoenixes are used to light lamps, and they know the spring miscellany of Yao Jing. There was a sudden fragrance in the wind. Occupy the south couch of Duanhua. ○The dust on the jade platform is semi-cold, and the golden pavilion is deeply closed under the slanting sun. Floating and thin love letters. Also write answers on red paper.
The mother-in-law was born unaware of the sorrow of spring, and the flowers and silver were scattered everywhere. Hit the oars and the palms and the wind will merge. The flute is mixed. ○The white sky is full of love for Xiao Xian, and the smoke is long in the dream. The cold and warm mood makes you timid. I am ashamed of the spring river duck.
There are thousands of acres of old mountains in my heart, and dreams surround me in the clear sky. Vegetables and bamboo shoots gather together every year. The old garden is worried about the sheep trampling. ○ I heard that there was no chicken in the public meal, and I was sipping the wine in front of the wine. Beg me Lu Jiacheng duck. Nothing is impossible to achieve.
[Feng Gufei's two songs]
Who can understand the expression between the eyebrows and the eyes, the jade fingers move slowly. The table mirror is full of smiles. It only stirs up chaos and warms the dust. ○The timid peach blossom has a short life. Arrangements are made all over the place, Cuilou Red House. It's too late to occupy Zhu Yanchun. Stealed by a wandering warbler.
The emotion of saying goodbye to Xie Niang, the return to reincarnation is slow in the dream. The material is steep and Luo Jin is full of tears. Leftover duck, fragrant and warm. ○It is said that the tail is long but the wings are short. Sales Ning used, Yu Chuangyue Pavilion. The troublesome oriole crows morning and evening. Fei Shang Chun Jian Guan.
[Siyuan people]
The remaining walls are full of colorful paintings, and the old curtains are covered with dust. The sky is long and the dreams are short, the solitary swallows in mixed nests are just like the guests thanking the family. ○ I am playing the zither and flute far away, and I am taking advantage of the remaining time to take pictures. I'm afraid that the jade flute outside the flower will be blown off in good spring, and my front sleeve will be wet.
[Two Golden Phoenix Hooks]
Gao Hong also called Qiu Lao. There are official willows, and the frost is yellow early. Make waves lightly. A new tune for harvesting grass. How much sorrow a night brings. ○The green cage and golden lock flower room is small. Very anxious, noisy moth makeup sweep. Jin Jishu arrived. The thread of resentment is red. The embroidered screen is open.
horizontal wave old style. Love sentences and secret confessions over wine. Feng Xian hugged him again. Green paper and heavy grass. Just wait for the jade letter to arrive. ○The smoke in the window is as small as agarwood. The first thing is to know the ruthlessness. The flower is red and smiles. The tear moth Bisao. Shen hates to repay him with a blue bird.
[Liangzhou Order Two Songs]
The moon is immersed in Jinbo. Separated from the palace brocade. It is clear that the ditch water is divided into the west and the east. How can we drink when we join hands in front of the flowers. ○The white title "Crazy Dancer" should be very good. Zhu Rui meets Luo Jin. Whoever has the same heart is forbidden. The red paper turned into a prophecy with tears and ink.
Don’t blame Lanqiao Drink. The drunken coral is hard to sleep on. Goose screen dream separated by the green mountains of Shu, whose cries wet the brocade at the head of the river. ○The golden toad bites the lock to know who is forbidden. The remaining leaves of the furrow are soaked in red. Qing'e shed tears because of this. The west wind thins but the east sun sinks.
[Yu Tuan'er]
Hongbian Jinzi is about the year. Very inappropriate, red light night calyx. At two o'clock in the spring mountain, everyone is lovesick and peering into the mirror. ○Xingyun met by mistake. The dream is cold, the mourning strings are lingering again. Before I arrived in front of you, I heard the sound of the river filling up, and my tears fell first.
[Three Character Orders and Four Poems]
Luan language comes early, but wakes up late from drunkenness. Flowers time. The stars are small and the temples are cloudy. Comb the rhinoceros on the back, move the phoenix pillow, and add new knowledge. ○The grass in the river is green, sending people home. See you indefinitely. Red candle back, green screen. Painting Luo Luan, gold engraved lamp, thinking hard.
Luan faces the shadow, and swallows fly together. Morning makeup. At two points on the mountain, draw a sad brow. Swallow the Xiang string, throw the Han pei, and travel east and west. ○ Tens of thousands of hates, going around the world. Yan Shu is late. With the embroidered threshold, the language of flowers and branches. Because I miss you, the mountain pillow is wet, and no one knows.
I made an appointment on the river and was late with the book. When the geese come. The remaining wine wakes up, and the small curtain hangs down. Being caught by the west wind, I was busy with my work and fighting for knowledge. ○Wushe water, bring flowers back. Every other year. The red sleeves are dark and the clouds are cyanotic. Late at night, pillow and quilt in spring, longing for lovesickness.
Flowers and butterflies dream, embroidered with mud. Old travel fun. After people disperse, the world is far away. I understand the 簰, connect the precious mirror, and think about it again. ○ empty musk powder, wash makeup pool. Let the curtain hang down. Who is more jealous? In the west window, the moon is not full.
[Nan Gezi 2]
Old hatred is broken by gold, and new love is in harmony with Baose. The hazy thoughts are pitiful. It's rare that Chun Luo's calligraphy invites me again. ○Jasper has been famous for a long time, and the red paper is painted with tears. Even if a slight disease damages Chunjiao. Could it be that the banquet was lost to the waist of Chu Gong?
The curtain rolls of the Cui Lou do not leave any fragrance, causing the locks and golden toads to hate each other. Shuxian Qinzhu arranged it for free. I always feel disappointed and cry when I listen to the song. ○Xi Hua hangs out late. According to the agreement, the east wind dream is short. The ileum is turned over and is afraid of returning in good spring, which is a sign of loss and death.
[Pour the Cup Order]
Avoid the calamity of Go, enjoy fighting with grass, and amuse Chu Yun to sink his hatred. It is doubtful to sleep while walking or sitting. The wind is tight in front of Panma Tower. ○Double curtains protect the velvet and keep the clothes stable. The jade is slender and slightly damaged by the cold spring. No one is taking care of the eyebrows, and there is still powder left behind when carrying candles.
[Yi Hanyue]
lost the green window money. The zither outside the flower bursts. Farewell to the taste of spring, I can't cry, and I will sit in shame facing the jade box. ○Jinyong gardenia night, the wind is blowing, and the hairpin is blooming sadly.The orchestra is learning to sing Yizhou, and the sound of the businessman on the side of the road is wrong.
[Red Window Listening]
I hope that the east wind will return. Floating, tender shoots are full of spring. The dance clothes rush up to the beautiful scenery, and I am very worried about the lack of reason. ○Handorilandang joins hands. Who can press the old score of Yiliang and subtract words secretly? It's better to push the wine and avoid it.
[思gui乐]
Spring comes with double waves and pink slip. Smoke partitions, Zhu Langmei Xiu. Willows and catkins are set in the wind. Later, in the dark, I felt that the day was long and I was thin. ○It has been a long time since I wrote a letter complaining about Luan. Eyes filled with hatred and no return remain the same. Do you still remember when Xie Tang sobered up? When the swallow comes to settle its nest.
[爱儿令]
Who makes an appointment to win money behind the curtain, come and listen to Yan's murmurings. He also raised the ordinary snails to the tip of his eyebrows. ○Feng Zhu picked it up hard. The sick mood is still like a sleeping silkworm. How can I bear the spring clothes by twisting my waist in front of the wind?
[Shaking Tingqiu]
Who makes the sad sound of the flute? Accompanied by a cold quilt and hugged alone. The old home is full of smoke and moonlight, the new pavilion is full of tears, and all the sorrow is flowing. ○The lanterns are dim, the geese are flying in the high buildings, and the night is cold and frosty. It's better to go back and find a place where the mist is warm and let you dream for a while.
[Pearl Order]
The soul of spring goes around the road to the end of the world. No multiples. Suddenly blocked, screen mountain fragrance. I asked Feihua in tears, but Naifeihua said nothing. ○The leakage is exhausted and the embroidered door is opened at dusk. The strange eaves and the sound of magpies are unfounded. No evidence. Last night there were even orchids and jade insects vomiting out.
[Second Poems of Western Brocade]
The cold comes to the Xichun curtain door. It was windy for another half day. The message on the edge of plum blossoms, three flowers and two stamens, is where leisure and sorrow come from. ○Only Xishan Meiwu. But I can't push it away. I often croak and sit facing each other with my white head, asking why I was dusty.
The flowers fall in Nanyuan and people go. The cold silence clouds the flutes and drums. The marmoset wears a treasure, whoever teaches it will win the reward and pay for the leisurely wind and rain. ○It’s not that things are jealous of each other. Dirty the phoenix hook lightly. The raw antifreeze is astringent, and there are thousands of crying marks, cutting off the path of Lingbo.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest look tired and horizontal. When the road is cut off, who will ask Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. Step by step jade man returns, a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute is flying in the cold. I complained to the east wind because it was very drifting.
[Seven Niangzi]
years old, the beauty has passed away and the lights have been put away. Singing about Weicheng and pulling up the slender willow trees. Who knows the south of the Yangtze River, spring is thin in the song. Qiu'e fights with Xingyunshou. ○The red building is separated from the rain at dusk again. Even if it is sold out, the wine will be sparse in all senses. Complaints and expectations, whether Dongfeng knows. There will always be times when you feel sad when listening to music.
[Jinzhangchun]
The screen is surrounded by mountains, and the water sinks and smoke curls up. There is no way to deal with old grudges. Liu Sanmian, Hua Yi smiled and took advantage of the red hairpin and hat. The butterfly sinks and the bee whispers. ○Pan has more autumn on his temples, but less spring on his waist. There is no such thing as a beautiful embrace. The wine waves are deep and the fragrance is old. Thousands of flowers are scattered around. Want to know.
[laughing and turning]
is like water. Concubine's thoughts. The two jade pendants of Xiang and Gao were tied. The east wind blows outside the mando flower. Wash your face without tears. May the man not cherish the flowers and become haggard. The haggard and flowery heart has no regrets.
[Breaking through the sand of Huanxi]
The cloud steps alone are rolled into green silk. No need to sing and dance to compete with new beauties. Complaining to Chun Ying, one by one. ○The pink and yellow moon disappears behind the curtain, and the blush on the face makes it photogenic. It's a pity that the silver screen joins hands, it's almost spring evening.
Two Songs of Flowers in the Backyard of Yushu]
Spring dress up again in the mirror. The swallows are at dusk and the orioles are at dusk. Returning suddenly after walking in the wild flowers, I tied a boat with incense and a bucket. ○The dust drives down the east wind. The remaining wine of spring swing. Change the mood of Chao Luan and Feng, and listen to the flute next door.
The song cloud is like a dream, and I sleep lightly. The feast comes at dawn. The red teeth are smashed to pieces, and the year is full of jealousy, and the sound of the jade flute is wonderful. ○A red bird peeks out from under the flowers in a spring window. Light makeup is better. The painting is so colorful that the skirt is so beautiful that it loses its fragrant grass.
[Eight Treasures Makeup Two Songs]
Who can advise you on the long star cup of wine? Three mountains away, dust comes and goes. On the right day of the month, all you have to do is drink in the waves and sing songs to protect them. ○Gold does not buy youth. Flying silk send, Bo Lao language. Asked where the qu chariot met, who understood the qu and the soil of Bo Lun's tomb.
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the two moths are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○ Jiang Lang hates him so much that he is afraid of seeing him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain was solved, and half of the strings on the bed were messed up.
[Qingjinzhi]
will return to the holiday to ask questions. Wherever you ask, there is no end of the world. Zigui just cries to his heart's content. The scenery is right and wrong. ○The east wind has fragrant red clusters in its eyes, and there are no dreams and white clouds flying by. The monkey and the crane should not know the heart period. Hugh list Beishan moved.
[花上月令]
The sunset is speechless and the swallows return to sorrow. There are also dim lights and small curtain hooks. There is half a roll of golden furnace ashes beside me, and the night fragrance remains. The sky is far away and the moon is shy. ○ I plan to call Gillian to Xiaoyin. It will last for ten years and I will rest in my dream. Who can tell me that my eyebrows are shallow and half-marked by autumn. Because I am thin in spring, I am afraid of climbing stairs.
[Jiang Yue Huang Zhongshan]
Choose a dream to spread Chu mat diagonally, test the spring and play Fujian tea leisurely. Flat sand and wild horses are covered by a short screen. At the bottom of the horizontal wave, the little water chestnut flower is ashamed. ○The palindrome of the Jianguan is reciprocated, and the word "Langgan" is slanted horizontally. The new voice is heavy and v. pipa. The intention of supporting and supporting is not for Mo Chou's family.
Achieve the body of suffering.Autumn wakes up and embraces the spirit of Biqi. Growing orchids and miscellaneous pendants, competing with the tripod, let Qingyin sing. Xinqi guide has deep roots. ○ Zhen Shige, Ling Shen's several ginsengs. If you cite the long and short sentences from the Confucian classics, you will recall the south of the Yangtze River. It has an elegant sound.
Gao Wen said that being a coward leads to Zhuang Tan. I feel the frost flying towards the mirror, and I understand that my clothes are moistened by the smoke from the furnace. It's wonderful beyond words. ○ I hate the end of the road, I cut the ground and sing songs of mourning. How many times I shed tears of sorrow for the spring and worry about the country, and my family supports Du Lingcai. The thief comes from hard work.
One petal of incense is as long as half a pond. It looks like a flower outside the flower every time, and its appearance is worse than that of Mingke Xiong. The ridge represents this sect style. ○Looking for a hidden place, the sky opens up in the big crane cave. Crossing the river to avoid visitors becomes a sojourn. In times of mourning, there is no place to waste the talents of immortals. Take some time off.
Idle gold powder, Cao Hao cannot make a country. A new army emerged, and the non-Guan Ci school had Xijiang. Being proud makes it difficult to be together. ○Double flying wings, regret to kill in Yingzhou. The poem is written by Yi An Ren Dao Yun, but it is sad to die and worried about work. Heartbroken and blocked by Yuan Qiu.
Let’s talk about rhythm and diction. The bamboo branches were turned over and returned to Xudu, and the feathers and feathers were carved again. Hold and match Zixia without. ○It is difficult to master the skills of an eagle and an insect through the ages. He newly worshiped Hainan as general and tried to visit the Guijiao Central Plains. Whoever comes will ascend to the altar.
[Chrysanthemum New]
The night is full of flowers in the ancient alley, and the money is proud of the horse beside the horse. Try on a spring shirt with a smile, turn over the old clothes and embroider the sky, Wu patterns. ○Ten years of life and life are tied to the dusty net. Dreams are about to wear clothes and stare at the old mountains. There is no silk to dye with barberry, and it is necessary to cook and paint Luo Qiucheng.
[Ruienxin]
Guihong's thoughts are colder than Yun's. The remaining tears and passing waves are all condensed. The frost-covered maples, the strong spring red, each leaf, darkly carves the shadow of the heart. ○In the dream, Ruoye is like a mirror. The autumn water is quenched, and the sword flowers are frosty. Waiting for the Ming Dynasty, I will return to work for Yuan Gong, and I will plant thousands of hectares of silk.
[Two Songs of Phoenix Title Cup]
Only two pairs of swallows are affectionate, looking for dreams and thanking the family hall. It's rare for a new couple in Chitou to play the flute, and they all feel sorry for each other. The sun is setting late. ○The mountains are long and the sky is far away. Should fight hard, complain and cry out. Today I show you the fragrant paper with your fine calligraphy, and I am ashamed to miss you so much.
The clouds in Hebei Province are cold, the west wind is blowing, and the flute next to it is sad. It is said that old grievances and new grievances are always unfounded, who can ask, Jiuchongquan. ○ Feeling sad about the scene, I regretted posting the note. Soul-breaking moves, mournful bursts of Zhu Xian. It was expected that someone would collect bones by the river at night. Who would pity the parrot?
[Autumn Night Rain]
The sound of horns and yellow clouds are everywhere, and people are leisurely asking what night it is. The east wind is frivolous. I am so annoyed that my writing style is so beautiful. ○The jade dragon's song of resentment is fragrant far away, and there is news about plum blossoms and plum blossoms. After drinking, I shed tears and recited the candle inspection and the new calendar of the Han family.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest are so eye-catching. When the road is cut off, who calls Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. There are few people in the jade world, only a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute of resentment is the sound of flying. I complained to the east wind, but it was still drifting.
[Picking Hongying]
Guan Yunhei. The edges are sandy white. There was no news after Jinxian left. Who sings. The strings of the zither ring. There is a sound of imperial edicts, and the moon tilts across the felt tent. ○Crazy traces. No one knows. The singing brings us to Chang'an. On a high building. Leaning on the railing and looking. There is no place for the soap carving, and the flying fox is in the party.
[Tea Ping'er]
For ten years, my clothes have been dusty and dusty, and the jade plum blossoms in my hometown are sparse. Whoever has the clearest way to recruit the soul of the flowers will cook the food and go to the five lakes alone. ○The moon shines brightly in the snow window while I sleep in sorrow, the east wind blows and the Ba Bridge is locked in spring. The smoked cage is nestled against the remaining fire of the night cultivation. It is still warm and the peppers are red and broken.
[Drunk Hanging Whip]
When I wake up, the cold fragrance invades, and there are three liang of flowers on the West Pond. The small calyx is gradually suitable for a hairpin, and a pair of proud green birds. ○The plum blossoms are falling, the wind is getting stronger, and the spring is over again. Only the heart of cherishing spring is infinitely deeper than spring.
[Langtaosha Two Songs]
is more than drifting, accompanying the autumn lanterns. There was a loud sound when thinking about the mountain. No one wants to hear how many tears I have shed when I have spent all my time in Hunan. ○If it is love, there will be sorrow and joy. The remaining dreams of the ten continents are not clear. Don't ask about the hateful notes and worry about the ink, and draw pictures from Wucheng.
Why buy money for sex, just sleep in peace. Laosheng's life experience was like a cicada. A pillow on Shuangxi Mingyue Road, a three-version sailboat. ○The sad letter reaches the edge of the gull, and the clouds and water flow along the edge. The east wind has an appointment and is happy. The lonely bamboos in the mountains are sober, and the new year will come tomorrow.
[Eight Tones of Ganzhou Four]
The west wind is cut off, the clogs are broken in the heart of the mountain, and the wild geese cannot move in the cold. It is right to carry a chanting pen, the golden city willow will be old, and the jade dew will be hurt by the maple. I asked the tired guest in Beijing where he came from when he was sober. Autumn is full of human life, and there are vicissitudes of life in an instant. ○ There are no traces of light gulls in the air, and I even lean on the building to look in the mirror, but I still waste time discussing it. With the remaining tears in the rivers and lakes, who is the yellow chrysanthemum? And near the flowers, high on the dangerous fence, if there is a long rope, it is still tied to the setting sun. Don't lose, sit high at night, rush with arrows.
Counting every year, the fifth day is too desolate, but this year is a joy.The plum blossom wind blows thinly, the apple smoke rolls up the curtain, and the water pavilion is weak and cold. The pu in Shengjiantang is getting old, and the fragrant wine cup is wide. If you don't know how to chant, it will be difficult to wake up and get drunk. ○The troubles are ridiculous and the wall is full of nonsense. I hate Xiangyuan with all the chapters and sentences of Lanquan. Laughing at the tired travelers in the south of the Yangtze River, I am leisurely in love with the boat. Waiting to linger, hairpins and talismans are used to save things, and flying rain on rivers and bridges urges them back at dusk. Outside the hanging poplar trees, there are scattered welcome drums and light waves.
Leaning on the cangyan rock, the spring robe is blowing in the half-dark sky. Thousands of servant girls mess with stars. Believe in the advice of the idle monk, the path is sticky with fragrance, and the green city is desolate. The barbarians of the motherland are far away, and the broken net becomes more fishy. Eliminate the sense of prosperity and death, a tower of ringtones. ○Have you recruited the Autumn Soul? To the cold sky, it's hard to wake up from a thirsty dream. Asking what the strings are, the ancient Taiwan is green with tears. Beautiful lakes and mountains, wandering alone and feeling lazy, and lamenting in the wind and playing the flute in front of the pavilion. Walking away, there is a small sloping corridor with flat moss on both sides.
The spring is lingering, the illness and wine are approaching dusk, and the east wind is colder than autumn. We are looking at the red building across the gauze, with the lanterns floating and the rain approaching. If the catkins fall and the flowers cannot fly, it’s a good idea to take a year off. The river knows people's wishes and welcomes tears flowing westward. ○There is only singing and dancing on a high platform, and it is easy to try on half-makeup, but it is difficult to take pictures in a hurry. I look down upon the carved beams as if I were a guest, and wonder who the swallows are staying for. The waves are rising, and the world is full of dust. I'm afraid I won't be able to board the Mulan boat. The road in front of the curtain turns green and grassy, gradually causing melancholy.
[Yuchi Cup]
is in danger. Take a look and go south to see the shadow. Autumn sounds, thousands of leaves are dry with frost, and the sky is dark with clouds. The lonely quilt is crowded at night, the candles are broken, and the guests wake up worried. They also fight for knowledge and cry bitterly. The wild wind blows through the lonely tree. ○ Should read the Beidou Jinhua, the demon star is broken in the jejunum, and the fighting spirit is still condensed. The heart is calm and ashes are all gone, and hatred and sorrow burst out randomly. When will I send you off? The clouds will sail to the corners of the sea. I will cuddle up next to you and cry at the end of the world. When the stem asks what, it is like the sound of Du Qu singing and the sound of Bauhinia blowing on the old mountain path.
[Two Songs of Tianxiang]
The green partridge collects its spots, the jade dragon spits, like clouds, who can crush them. The small bamboo stick is heavy with fragrance, and the two smokes are in the same breath, creating a hint of warmth and light spring. The flowers are sent away by the wind, the doubts are quiet, and the orchid is in a new state. There is still a silver armor on his finger, and a string of warm beads in his arms. ○ Manxun is filled with secret sorrow, and it is expected that Xijia and Cui Xian will change in spring. Wisps of clouds from the east of the sea are half lost in the remaining seal script, and the handsome clothes are lingering in the bonfire. I am afraid that it will be difficult to call, but the beautiful soul of Pengshan has returned, waiting to send my lovesickness, and the dream is far away.
It is made of celadon, with green curtains and green curtains. It is crisp and beautiful in the evening. (Outside and inside) The leaves are clean, the palace is yellow and the musk deer is beginning, and the little fu makes people suspicious of drunkenness. The elements are slender and delicate, the dew is clear and wet, and the pearls are worn in autumn. The hairpin string is newly decorated with tin millet, and the old clothes are blended with sandalwood. ○The spring is about to bake at one o'clock, and I talk about my life experience in a miserable and miasmatic country. Who knows that the old fragrance fades away, and the tears gradually condense, and the lonely night wakes up like water. Afraid of chaos and unmanageable tassel dreams, I sink from Jiannan, and my heart is tired.
[Seven Songs for Touching Fish]
The food list in front of the strange Lord is sparse. Who cares about the fragrant vegetables? The green cage is silent and hates the wind far away, and worries about the official announcement. The news is wrong, and I am afraid that Jiang Guo will be the first one, and Chun will be nowhere to be found. The most bitter taste in poetry is the bitterness of the mud in the frozen garden, the smoke in the forest and the rain, can you expect the swallows to come? ○ Countryside dream, chewing the frost a few times, losing the flavor of Sakura Kitchen. Thousands of acres of flat breasts are lost, and the root festival is cold every year. Tiao'an Road. When asked, I will take off my spring clothes in the Ming Dynasty. A message from the end of the world. After the ice moss is hoeed, the jade fiber is strong and strong, and it is also served with stewed fish.
It was almost dusk and there was no wind or rain, and spring had returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tone. Don't worry about it anymore, ask me, how much sorrow has been brewing in one hundred and five years? There are new looks and old smiles, there are dismantled embroidered ponds, enchanting forest orioles, and half-broken manuscripts for decoration. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. Too early to return! Why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind? Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes the shade. Who will fall with the Jade Mountain?
Occupies a dark corner of the city, and some people will hold grudges forever. The scholar's eyes were full of tears, and he cut through the mist of Haidong. The soil on the grave was trampled all over South Bridge Road for fear that wine could be poured on it. The British tour is late for you. If you are far away from Sheng He and Qian Guang, who will complain about your worries? ○It’s hard to ask, is it wrong to be a Confucian? With his writing power, he is like a crossbow. The bronze lute brings joy without distinction, and enjoys the journey of this life. At the place of mourning, the hat is broken and the donkey is tired, looking at the Qianqiu clouds. The cuckoo is the most bitter! I want a green mountain without a master, and there are spiritual poets who come to listen to the heartbroken words.
The wind and rain subsided near dusk, and spring has returned safely. Hastily dyed willows and peaches passed by, winning brocade paper with a sad tune. Don't worry about it anymore, just ask how much autumn is brewing in one hundred and five years. New smiles and old smiles. There are dismantled embroidery pools and embroidered ponds, which are fascinated by the orioles and swallows in the forest, and are decorated with half-broken manuscripts. ○ As the saying goes, it is best to send Hongying away, and Shenhen in Xiyuan will be swept away first. There is no way to lean on the fence at the end of the world, except for the cuckoo who can tell. It's too early to return home, why not wait and lean on the curtain to share the east wind. Full of hugs. When I hold the candle and call my respects, the green becomes a shade. Who can fall with the jade mountain?
The miserable rain drops from the first update to the next, and people in the world are left to their own devices. If you are tired of traveling and are familiar with the taste of rivers and lakes, you can't get sick and pregnant. Before the chanting, I was surrounded by solitary shadows and lanterns. Leaving the soul secretly teasing. In the year of forbidden fire, just look at the heart of the clouds, and things will burst out after the night clock. ○The promise of returning to the mountains, after the spring cuckoo cries, the light sail still lives up to its expectations. In the twenty-year anniversary of Yanqiu, many tears were shed on the sleeves. Believe it or not, it is not common to burn candles and join the bed. Ten acres of apple blossoms. Discussing the need for medicine, preparing dowry documents, and the elders are staying together.
I am too lazy to explore Yu Fangxin, and I am idle every year. Only the forest is still full of clouds and thousands of trees, and the beauty is in the spring Luoqi. The red sky is still covered by a layer of light, and there is only a thin layer of smoke. The east wind is blowing. It is not as quiet as the source of immortality. If you live in a small house, you will make a plan to avoid Qin. ○The dream of Xuandu, the fun of Kinmen games, the dream brings back the melancholy of this world! There is no fragrance or color in the Huawan Tian. How can we say that the Taoist temple is in ruins? Leaning in the air, the joy is light and the fragrance does not hurt the feeling of spring. Liu Lang is tired! No matter how many questions are written on the paper, there are no good words, and I burst into tears when I feel so happy!
asked Xihu, Hushan and Xinmei, who among them is Hejing. The plum blossom family has a thousand-year dream, and the family tradition of virgins lives in the cold. If you have no time to think about it, I recommend a cold spring. Recognize it from the deserted monument. Smoke hoe rain boat. It also takes the moon to move the roots, build according to the rock, and cook to the fragrant shadow. ○The story of the painting is a case of uncertainty, and I woke up under the flowers of the soul chanting. Renovating the temple becomes abrupt, and it is evident from where to live. Standing in the high pavilion, he composed the jade dragon's mournful song and no one listened. Hengfeng side ridge. The red calyx is left speechless, the silk clothes fly down, and the clear tears correspond to it.
[Guizhixiang]
Dinggu flood dawn, Zhengshui market sells fresh food, and the black boat arrives. Ji Ji's silver sword danced freely, and the three men threw their smoke hoods. On a cold night near Chang'an, I asked you how much jade saliva you have. The porcelain plate urges you to eat, the poem comforts you, and you chant in vain. ○Remember the local flavor and tune Sister-in-law Song. After a few pauses to think about it, it should be a good idea. Aoyu heard the guest's words all over the place, and she embraced them sadly. The dream of chilled food comes from the kitchen, and the food check list is messy and careless. The royal note is cold, the sorrow is easy to care for, and the jade scales are silent.
[Three Songs from Suan Shanxi]
The mournful strings prompt the beat, and the strings are broken all over Yinzhou. Who changes the small plum blossoms? Dreaming of horizontal branches and the fragrance of the cold night. It is a windy and snowy year, and Sanjiu is the most important thing for love. Outside the bamboo repair, in front of the beautiful window, I do some idle homework. ○Now that I am haggard, are the flowers worth my sorrow? I'm as drunk as mud, I respect you so much, you're like a worm. When the book from the south of the Yangtze River arrives, the gulls and herons are still safe. Two wax clogs and a fishing coop, when will they really be returned to me?
took shelter from the wind and fled to Lao Gaoqiao City. I have been wandering for twenty years, full of spring waves and old feelings. The wind sings with the woodcutter, and I carry a cup across the fence. Cherish the meaning and see the branch nest. The time is free and the gull is happy. ○ Dust Fan Haijiao, there is no doubt that there are no traces of cutting. The old man's family has a single tree, and it is difficult to continue the red plum blossoms and colorful topics. The sky is heavy with frost, and the heart of the old mountain is haggard. Three acres of house, five lakes and sails, I'm afraid of talking about Tu Qiu's plan.
The light curtain is lifted four times, and the moon is lifted early. Hungry mosquitoes are buzzing around my temples, little hazy, and garden crows are urging me to wake up. It rains on the eaves, and the robes are rolled up by the red beams. New wine cup, short lamp. Cooking makes Qiu Xiao laugh. ○The coolness of the sun covers your hands, and the light shines dimly. Constantly in the heart of the old mountain, blown by the west wind, it grows old year after year. Feihong will dream of climbing to a high building overnight. Carrying a jade flute and asking about the golden stem, no one knows the meaning.
[Jiangdu Chun]
The east wind is turning, the strange fragrance is thin, and the cold is still lingering. Missing the beauty of the mirror, it is neither flowers nor mist. The old love is leisurely. Furong didn't believe it hurt Chunqian. Resentful of the red building, desolate into double bends. After Mengyun returned, he was busy embroidering and picking orchids. ○Unexpected. Near the bottom of Pingshan Mountain, there are traces of sadness and tears stained by alcohol. Broken spectrum and careful business, the Qin Zheng leaning column and the dust are dim. The heart of spring has no one to care for overnight. Bear him the bright moon and the sad cuckoo. When Guigong was ashamed for several years, half of the millet was exposed.
[Jinmingchi]
The silk is split and the waves are flowing, and the clothes are called to the couple. The road to Yaochi is very close. The dust is gone, the ice box is half unfolded, and Lu is crying slightly. The powder has not faded. What year is it? Brocade and silk threads occupy the painting. Thirty-six Pi Fang news. Looking at the pavilion leaning against the cover, there are countless mandarin ducks, but no one from Lingbo is allowed to ask. ○ The westerly wind twists and turns every inch, looking for the intoxicating fairy juice, and the blue tube draws deep. The dance of neon clothes is repeated tonight, and the shadow of tears will be blown away tomorrow morning. I am full of lovesickness and beauty, but my empty house is empty and my stone scales are filled with hatred. I'm afraid that at the top of Yujing Peak, the moon is dim and the smoke is pale, and the green is damaged by the lingering fragrance.
[Great Holy Music]
Indulge in wine and make-up, touch the stele gallery and be quiet, Brahma Spring Festival Gala. Remembering old travels, wearing hats on the west railing, living up to the beauty of one's own work, and looking at it with both eyes. The warm jade leans against the clouds and is delicate and weak. It touches people's places and fills their sleeves with the fragrance of heaven. Forgetting to go back, the oil curtain was half-opened, and the sun was setting in the courtyard. ○The orioles are worried and have short dreams, but in one case, the beautiful garlands urge them to change. In the cool rain near the stone building, the disabled monk also said that the agarwood has new resentments. The east wind spectrum of Luoyang is wet with tears. I am afraid that it will be exhausted and become a deer garden withered red. The city is full of hatred, but also melancholy, and the shelter from the wind is shallow.
[Two Songs of Emperor Tai Chun]
Fang Xiao’s twists and turns, the old life of a flower farmer. The Grain Rain is half sunny, the embroidered sills are scrambling to move, and the palace clothes are slightly taken off. Putting the hat in the hand and passing the note with a smile, all the entertainment, thanking the man and chanting the bag. Even now, the waste green and flat smoke can only be smelled. ○The dusty shadow is glimpsed, and the eyes are confused. Tears piled up, stained with cuckoo blood. Afraid of the greedy tail, the beauty of the year is close to the setting sun, the weather is not right, it is easy to say goodbye. What's more, the east wind's roads have changed from the old ones. There is only a piece of Qiongtian left, and the people of Miaochun are Luo.
The bamboos on the hills are yellow, and the auspicious clouds are shining in the southern country. Autumn is clear in Yinghai. I heard that this year, the peaches will begin to bear fruit. Fortunately, Jin Ying's exposed place persuades people to get drunk, and the springs in Lixiang are clean. Talking about Chunhui, Zishe's mood is stimulated by Yunfan. ○The hall is bright and colorful. Standing on the wings of the phoenix, the forehead is charming. From the Forbidden City, Immortal Lang returns in colorful clothes, and wishes you a warm spring in Antarctica. It is expected that the Yaotai genealogy family celebration will be held, and the fragrance will be poured into the golden cup to warm the immortal liquid. I pay my respects to my mother every year, and I recognize the curtains of veils and clouds.
[Eight Convicts and Jade Crossing Branches]
The dusty grits are desolate, the frozen Suxiang is fragrant, and there are clusters of light shade and double frames. The curtains are rolled and the branches are red to the eyes, and the vicissitudes of old hatred are lingering. Spring Festival Gala every year. For the flowers, the piano is honored, and the title is also happy to be in the hometown. The green birds at the bottom of the leaves are used to listening to the sweet words of tea. ○Who walks in the east wind, and the green clouds fade. The butterfly and bees are so heavy that they should be surprised. Junyou changes, whose family is happy. The water is inexhaustible, and the pavilion is full of smoke and smoke. Just dance outside the flowers and have nothing to say. The person holding the rose weeps at the widow's night. When Qin Lang is sober from drinking, the jade paper is wet with tears and sad, making it difficult to write.
[Dream Hengtang]
Fishing in the autumn snow, walking in the slanting sun, the coolness of the wild pond is beginning to set. The shadow has disappeared, replaced by pu barnyard grass and spring waves. Who will move the low boat? Sitting alone in the short boat, I feel alarmed by the frost on my temples. I am confused again, and I am making new sorrows, and I still drift to Xianchi Pavilion. ○Microwaves do not pass through the tide, causing dust and turbulence, and the cold catkins are very thin. The west wind rolls the leaves, gently blows in, and makes several mournful horns. Don't even ask, who can trust the wild geese in the rivers and lakes? Cangzhou in the dream is generally clear and shallow, with red mulberry flowers falling.
[Three Songs of Night Flying Magpies]
The east wind carries people away, inviting you to step into Chanyuan, and your beauty shines in the Zen sky. The flower palace brings the test, the little man's face is flushed and blushing. Qingcheng is speechless, as if her makeup is thin, her hair is in a bun and she cries frugally. The green seal begs again, and the setting sun still protects the pearl banner. ○What's the matter? Wan Shu is so delicate and sleepy that she has nowhere to go and asks Xingyun, the twelve witches and servant girls. It is said that the flat spring is like a dream, just like human and heaven, it is replaced by a beautiful garland. The old hatred of Jincheng is reflected in the poetry of Biji Square. The late night is left alone, with tears on the copper plate and candles, and the sad companionship of the golden fairy.
Cangbo is relieved, and the boat is returning gently, and the wind leaves are scattered in the cup. A guest's pillow in the autumn. After waking up from the drunkenness, I climbed up and opened my tired eyes again. The wild smoke is clear and the sky is full of fragrant flowers and trees, and the air of the sea is breathtaking. Ice and ice danced, calling Ninglong to look directly at Penglai. ○How many red mulberry trees are like arches? I asked with a bonfire pen what year it was, and was it really possible to cut the bead cliff? If you don’t believe that Qiujiang sleeps peacefully, your whale-catching skills will linger forever. The sun sets on the flag, turning thousands of mountains into ashes. And the west wind brings the cranes chirping, causing alarm at night, and the waves come with hundreds of twists and turns.
The golden wave warms the leaning man, the flowing light shines on the Pingshan Mountain, and the birch candle disperses the cold smoke. The beaded curtain is about to go up, and the beauty is gone. Whose house is this tonight? When the windows are filled with clouds and mist, neon clothes are dancing wildly, and the sky is changing. Riding the wind and sweating, I asked Qionglou how it looked like the human world. ○The fairy ax of the troubled Gui Palace, the seven treasures are still in Lingxu, adorning Chanjuan. Outside the fence, the autumn fragrance weeps and the dew falls, and the moving plate clears the tears, disappearing the golden fairy. Guanghan Palace is a palace, for fear that Chang'e will not be allowed to linger. Who can share the lonely light? It can’t be used as a lamp, looking north is desolate.
[Linglong Four Offenses and Three Poems]
The old clogs and teeth are fragrant, the dust and gauze are left with ink, and things are like water. The smoke and moon are in my old home, and I can stand leaning on the railing. Under the shadow of self-pity, there is an east wind, accompanying people to tears. In my dream, Chanyuan, the orioles and butterflies who survived the calamity, knew what I wanted to write. ○Looking forward to the return of spring from the end of the world. Ask Xun Xiangdu Qu, who will understand the new hatred? Seeing that poetry and wine are thinning, it should be connected to the sound of cuckoo. Don't hold candles in the Western Garden at night, but climb and pick ordinary peaches and plums. Must remember. Spring roots are there, and the old ground is red with thousands of flowers.
Wu Mian has not been reduced, and he is sleeping in the West Garden. The news reminds him that he is late. There is smoke in the stove on one sleeve, the long pavilion is filled with sadness, and the sky outside seems to be dark and gloomy. Feeling cold, return to Yan in front of the society. Ask the mirror edge how many lead tears, do not thank the bridge dust points. ○The cries of green birds illuminate half of the mountain screen. The harbinger of spring is gone and the catkins are in front of you. The red building has embroidered foil and floating lanterns at night, and the east wind is light. In the dream of cooking sick bones, it is gradually no longer the case. There is no choice but to wait for the appeal, and the new voice is astringent and uneven.
The water dream is cold, the flowers are covered with frost, how can the gulls pass away in the sky? Count the green peaks and make shadows, and the wine washes away the ancient Wu Tai. He Lang's old love has not yet been revealed. There is also an east wind and a painting of boats in Yanpu. The spring soul is filled with tears, the socks are dusty, and the old jade dragon is bitter. ○The traveling clouds fill Chuihong Road. Reminiscent of the sparse fragrant steps, low bun to welcome the door. Come and go with Luo Xiu, and fly away from the cold as soon as possible. The clear song is at ease in the world, sending off leisurely travelers and secluded spring travelers. Sad message.There is no one to spare, and the old couple wears their skirts.
[Desolate criminal]
Qingqin resentment enters. After the west wind, the dust condenses and the ice ropes are broken. Whether the big move is good or not, the river sky is late, and there are several mourning horns. The dragon's anger is evil. Thousands of miles of darkness, the heart of the countryside is thin. Strange fluttering waves, broken ink on the streams and mountains, and a wild goose crossing the empty desert. ○My heart is broken, Tong Jun is not there, I occasionally have dinner with the clouds, and I feel more sad and happy. Therefore, the mountain dream is short, the strings burst out and the mausoleum shakes down. A reed stretches the edge, and the material Xifa sings and the soul falls in love. Listen to the sound of pine trees, Nanari Seo, and break the Old Testament.
[Yu Jingqiu]
is full of fragrance. There are old orioles and swallows in the joyful place, dancing and singing. The wind is full of emotions, and I am worried about the flowers and leaves of books. A wonderful score of "Red Teeth", recorded as a reminder of the feast. Farewell to tiredness. The next year, I was filled with regret, and I talked carelessly over the cup. ○It’s not about being arrogant and cowardly. Writing about the heart of the piano, the six pieces are gradually missing. The broken dream tower, the middle-aged silk and bamboo, can't help but decline. In the Year of the White Turtle, it is still a sad time to resolve grievances and Tianbao. The sound of the flute swallows, who is leaning against the palace wall under the dark moon?
[Thirteen Songs to Congratulate the Bridegroom]
Frozen feathers peek into the cold layer. At dusk, the sound sounds like complaining, and the dust of musk deer is frightened. The powdery terrace is full of lovesickness at night, and the skinny and fairy-like posture is green. Gradually tears drop, Yin Shen Hong Shu. No one has swept the corals all over the ground, occupying the frosty sky and hurting the spring weather. Shadows in the sky are against the remaining candles. ○The moss-covered servant girl is still decorated with jade. When asked, the palace makeup is applied on the forehead, and the mirror alliance is repeated. How many Feiqiong have been hated for years and written down in the remaining pages of Cangzhou. Afraid of being restrained by the east wind. The road in front of the snow-scented pavilion is left in the cold, and I exchange green birds and listen to ecstasy. The intestines are broken, and the bamboo is stuck.
The boat equipment of the lower palace. Next to the Cangjiang River, I have been lying there for many years, and the west wind is traveling alone. Not close to the center of the game, there is still no way out. Winning in vain, Lan Cheng Ci Fu. The ink on the sleeves is dripping with tears in Shenzhou, even if Han Ling and Pian Shi are poor, they can't sing, and their single silk threads are bitter. ○There is no good place in Zhuxi. Just whispering, the cuckoo bows again and bows his head. The air of the sea is desolate and the dragons are evil, and I am tired of crossing withered chaffs. There are still dreams, and the lamp bed is windy and rainy. Distributed to follow the affairs of the Ming Dynasty and asked Jiang Qian and Oulu if they were safe. Must be rewarded, ruler fish element.
The dangerous building is exposed. Looking at the Central Plains, the sculptures are nowhere to be seen, but the green mountains are rising. The west wind across the sea stirred up the dust and rolled it into the dead leaves of Guan Yu. It is still covered and fixed, and the floating clouds are clear and extinguished. The road ahead of the Thirteen Screens of Beacon Light shines on Wu Lu and Zhi Who's Moon, and Liao He is whimpering as he speaks. ○We heard spring thunder coming from the corner of the palace. It's always hard to wake up, I'm dreaming about ten continents, I sit and read in the mulberry field. The unjust bird with a stone in its mouth cannot bear the cold, and its eyes are full of autumn whale scales. No wonder, it was the first calamity of Kunchi. It is common to hide a boat in a gully, but I am afraid that the yellow and yellow pillars will touch the common work and break it. The sky is leaning against the sky, and the sword is broken.
count the rain in the fence. The wet years are like dust and dreams, and the sound of wild geese is about to disappear. The autumn moon is misty and hazy, and the moss flowers are hidden in the evening steps. More clothes, cold and cold. The chrysanthemums in Mofei's hometown are crying, accompanied by lonely clouds, and the old man is lying on the Cangjiang River at dusk. With this intention, he asked the gulls and herons. ○ Yingying Yishui was speechless. As time goes by, the sand is dim and the rocks are cold, who will control the old alliance? Try to look down at the clear ripples and take a look at the faded temples, which still carry ten years of dust. All that is left is opposition and charming. All things are done together, but I am just lazy, and I support the bamboo pole and count all the trees in the east of the pond. When the crows rise, who will they dance for?
hands plant forward trees. With a virtual corridor and a corner of the setting sun, people who read it are speechless. I begged to my neighbor in the west for the axe, and he once shared the dragon's pardon to get it. Look at how the jade stands and the pavilion look like. Today, as I leave the silver bedside, I ask Gu Gen if he is willing to go near the dragon gate. One leaf after another, fighting against the wind and rain. ○The crickets cry and complain to each other. Speaking of the past year, the reds and greens are miserable, but who is in charge of the good autumn? The ground is covered with frost and the sky is white, and the phoenix perched on the ground is lost in the place. It is considered clean and still has my soil. Sitting in sleep clears the yin and clears things, and it is necessary to keep the roots firmly cultivated during the cold years. This is the intention of the alliance, and the pure wine is pure.
No wonder I am declining. Counting Alien and Zuo Huxuan, they are all on the same level. The life of the lake and the sea is light, and it is quite disappointing for the cold night. Trace back the hatred, the gorge flows and the water flows. There is still a room in Cangjiang that can be arranged as soon as one sleeps, and the wind and rain are combined with the bed plan. The autumn colors are here, and the geese are flying. ○The fragrant clouds of seal script are rising. Wait for discussion, return to the heart and ask questions, listen to and think about the great master. How close is Tiaoshan's house? It's just a hut and a stone field. And cause trouble and get drunk on local cuisine. The four seas are born from the true key. After many vicissitudes of life, it is difficult for brothers to laugh at themselves. My intention is to entrust you, Xiaoshan Gui.
is used to being drunk on longevity wine. It is the predecessor, Anqi flying boat, floating hills and sleeves. Ding Ding has been lonely for hundreds of years, willing to hold his claws on his hands. Ask whether Yingying and Erhao know. It goes without saying that Mingke's subtle principle is that three cups and two cups will end up being too much. Hold this intention for your longevity. ○Xianjun has nothing to do but a rhinoceros head. Everything is suitable, thousands of games are measured, and the flowers are in full bloom every day. It is not necessary for generations to realize this joy, it is rare for people today. The sun is shining brightly, and the gardens are like embroidery. The truly healthy people in the Four Seas will stay together forever with their white hair and red cheeks. He even danced to Hua You.
is released from the sky. In this area, there is chaff, dust, and dirt, and there is no sign of self. As a guest of Fenghuang Pond, my colorful brushes have had a great time.But win and look forward to it forever. The world has changed and the clouds have changed into thousands of states, but the old mountain, the ape and the crane are still intact. Qualification said, the five lakes are beautiful. ○Senior style and long pine-like appearance. I am envious of this dynasty, and the purple zhi is enough to nourish itself. Whoever plays the song "He Nan Fei" will be the king of gods and immortals. It looks like a pedestrian, and the jade mountain is bright. This old man has no loose chest, he laughs, chats, and even sings loudly. If you don't use it, just brew it in a urn.
is not a master. Geng rest, the pine breeze is full of listening, the prime minister in the mountains. When you are excited, you can pick it up like a magic pen and realize the fragrance of crossing the river. It is inevitable to look at Gao Qiu in despair. I wish that all sentient beings and me will be fine. Ask around for free, and the seeds of medicine will grow. ○Don’t think it looks like dead wood. There is no need to use it, and Ji will give rise to high opinions, and the Tao function can be cultivated. When it comes to mending the sky and filling the sea, Ze Zhi is still the God King. When asked, the three lights will be bright again. Half drunk, every time I look at the Nandou, I can feel the west wind blowing in the waves of wine. All sorrow is gone, worth a thousand wines.
is self-explanatory. According to the arrangement and Huang's annotation, the bones are sour and cold. This piece is most suitable to be placed in a hill and valley, and is not called Lingyan's portrait. There are scattered buns and slanted hairpins facing each other. Let’s pay homage to the San people’s new call to arms, hoping that the world will be safe forever. Cangzhou is interesting and the days should be long. ○The headscarf is too lazy to follow the example of the Zhou family. Accompanying the princes, Yin Zun cooks and makes offerings with smoke from the furnace. Li Saoxu drinks heavily with his hands, and the wine is hot in his ears and the king of gods is drunk. Even more rare, the situation is cheerful. When Er'anqi's spiritual energy is exhausted, nothing can shake Wulingyuan. Walk with the load in hand, sit down and pour the wine.
puts the dragon and snake with bare hands. The land of pain sinks, Shenzhou appears, and the devil changes his form. I advise you, Changxing, to have a glass of wine, and what will happen to your eyes? There is a thread and a spear to look forward to. How many new pavilions have shed tears and asked who is okay with the rivers, mountains and scenery? Sorrow is like grass, but the strokes are still long. ○The buildings are renovated everywhere. Man Pingzhang and Boyi Pirates are raised by talented people. Whoever wants you to come and take care of your affairs will be king in about three chapters each. Can't wait to see the sky clear and sunny. Whoever destroys a beautiful home will lose his gold, silver, energy and sky. Eliminate the day's plan and rely on the wine.
kills orchids with one arrow. Through the curtain, the faint fragrance accounts for the break, and the fragrance smells of treasure. If you want to write about love, you have no time to write, and the empty valley will disappear for a long time. Exhibition of Hunan mat, ripples full of hope. Listen to the rain and sleep alone in the Wangyou Pavilion. The smoke of the medicine and the wind calm the person's slight illness. If the water leaks, it will wax and wane. ○My worries are still the same as ever. Let him lose, open and close the Taoist books, and make offerings to the wells and flowers. It’s good to return to your roots and stay happily, why bother with the King of Dansha Qi? With only two eyes left, I can read and read books. A volume of frost-covered fragments of music reverberates in the human world and in the hearts of autumn scholars. Press again to shoot and try brewing.
As soon as the boat was released, it was arranged and anointed with spring stones and dust. Yuan Yutang waved his hand, but Jia Rang was the one who made the three strategies. The scene of the carved silk and the announcement of the house is in the foreground. Huge waves whipped up the sky, and the wind roared, and the sails were gathered in good condition. Go back and get it, the water and clouds will grow. ○The courtyard steps are like Qi Chun Miao. Who can be more like, Dihua and Wei, Zhilan Jingshuang. Regardless of the family heirloom secrets, the king of Zhu Yan is the king. Be sure to forget and follow the immortal battle. Leading his disciples to produce sons, they have baskets and carriages, but do not use ivy sticks. Cranes flying south, singing for you.
[Two Flute Songs under the Moon]
The ruins are used to live in smoke, the clear bells are in the dark, and the place where they used to be is the place where they used to be. The sound of sand birds is soft, still in love with the coming and going of the east wind. Bu Wu is sad first, and hates the rain regardless of the sky. I patted all the fences, the lonely clouds disappeared, and the mountains were speechless. ○Emotions. The setting sun sets at dusk. Don't worry about the end of the world, old gulls and new herons. After years of no travel, the feeling is miserable again. It's not a spring disease before the flowers. I asked the wandering warbler next to me if I have ever? To be sued, Geng Lang has only one heart, a poplar tree is declining.
The cold moon is overcast on the wall, and there is a sad and sad sound, speaking for autumn. When I listen to you, I feel sad and have no thoughts. The empty steps are full of sadness, and the lights are dim and the rain is cut off. In the middle of the night, winds are everywhere, and the frost string is trailing alone, urging the dawn. ○ Worry about mistakes, trapped in gold. The long door is accompanied by fallen leaves, and the letter on the pillow is vague. After weaving, the old home is in disarray. The cold west wind changes the human world, how many times have I asked the haggard king and grandson? After all, Pan Langfa has changed, who should I send my dream to?
[Tail offender]
A flute is falling in the plum breeze, the empty hall is empty at night, and the thoughts of spring are floating over. The door is covered with agarwood, and the lanterns are decorated with flowers. At the end of Gui Yan's reign, Wen Liang did not sweep, but he was shocked and all the empty strings were broken. The old love has no basis, and as old age passes away, there is only a sigh. ○Qin Zheng surrounds the embroidered house. He should be unsolved and hate to say goodbye. The grass is dim and the smoke is dim, and I miss the vastness of the sky. Counting past events, uneven flowing water, patting railings, clearing lead and dark knots. Tired people and melancholy are not always surrounded by the moon.
[Two Songs of Flowers on Moshang]
The caged oriole awakens, Pingshan is still asleep, and the Spring Festival Gala is in front of us. After a while, I sold it to Xie Niangchi Pavilion. What's the use of Xifang's note? The east wind outside the flower is broken. The new yin is not yet stable, there are countless tears, and the dream clouds drift away. ○ I am thin due to longing for love, my palace waist is a little wider, but my clothes are half as wide. It may not be the end of the world, but it’s time to think about the cold and the warmth.Over the years, the zither hand has been damaged, and the dust is covered with thirteen golden geese. The sorrowful strings are lingering beside me, the green window is full of sunlight, the old love is so lazy.
The poplar flowers have all fallen, the moss has eroded, and the dust has condensed. Biyi's soul returns, the ice pillow is stranded with tears. Where is Dai Chun when the servant girl is gone? Nineteen years have been spent in vain. The most unreasonable thing is thousands of miles away, and the new practice turns into a fairy. ○The flower inscriptions are covered with grass, and the wild geese are cut off in the cold weather. They are just called listening to the wind and rain. The beautiful shadow is in the high Tang Dynasty, and the incense ashes return to the soul without any evidence. Bieluan composed a thousand qin music in vain, Meng Leng only played one string and one column. Caolili gives away, just like Yangzhou, jade fishing slopes.
[San Shumei and Four Songs]
On Qingsi Hengyuan Road, it is dimly lit at the end of the forest, and smoking is still prohibited. Calling guests mountain birds, wandering and feeling tired, exploring words and phrases about spring. The wild water is sharp, leading to new steps across the bank. Jiuhuan is dim and dim, with only plum blossoms, which seduce people's mood. ○It is the fragrant travel that lightens the burden. The small calyx is left sparse and the hairpin is left. Who will protect the frozen fragrance? The dream is familiar with Xifeng, and the clouds are wet with hatred, and the spring elements are secretly condensed. It's very sad, but it also arouses jealousy and makes people jealous. Asking for news from Xiangtai, the wind chimes whisper.
After a cold meal in Jiangcheng, it is difficult to pour out the deep respect, and the sorrow is like wine. The dream traces the tower, half the willows are withered and the flowers are haggard, and the spring embroidery is dark in the dust. Sitting on the dark curtain, you can see the shadows of your steps and smell the red fragrance three times. The golden strands are gone, and the empty branches are picked, and the jade fibers are exposed through the ice. ○The Yaohua in the sky have not been together for a long time, I am holding Qin Zheng in my arms, and the bright sun is shining thinly. Tears rained down the window, Jing Luan saw it with his own eyes, and his eyebrows were full of illness. It is taboo to say that it is cold in spring, so take it into consideration and rely on your high sleeves. Ruining the empty pear garden, Dongfeng admits it?
The lantern-burning season has passed, the river is cloudy in spring, and the plum blossoms are in the sky. Stepping on the dark smoke, I can remember the traces of the old words, lying drunk with the red maple. Tired of empty mountains, travel plans are repeated, and the east wind opposes them. The traces of cooking poems, the falling rain and the Wu cup, make people wake up and sit down. ○My life experience is full of flowers and sorrow. I want to make a date with a leisurely gull and eliminate the dust by myself. The snow is old and the waves are deserted, and the flutes are left with their thoughts, and the birds are crowing. Thinking of farewell hurts spring, but spring is already here. Don't send thousands of empty branches around, Yaotai dream lock.
The leisurely fragrance brightens the tired eyes, and the remaining cold forest pavilion is half-way through the spring. The smile is near the pond, revealing the old peach clothes, avoiding people's make-up. Standing in Yanxiang, flowers and letters change with the east wind. The wild water is scaly, but it is not as good as the golden cup, and the tea is deep and shallow. ○ I can get used to climbing up the stairs anywhere, so I can take the cold weather with me and feel sad and relaxed. To repay the scenery, I need water and smoke every time, and small poems to search for. Soft feet are fragrant, the moon is bright, and branches are lazy first. After sitting for a long time, the sunset is more beautiful than ever, and the wheel of return is turning.
[Two poems cited by Brahman]
The sloping bridge is fluffy, and the red stains are dotted with heavy hay. The careless oriole still talks about the end of spring. I heard that Lingbo's new steps cut off the embroidered dust. Use wax lamps and belts to fight for leisure. ○Chang'an beauties. Even if you wake up drunk, you will always be confused. The east wind does not care about the mess, it only avoids the flowers and anger. Wave curtains are green, dreams linger, and clouds rise on the embankment of lovesickness. The appointment between hairpin and mother always worries about the root cause.
The gauze scarf is tired, and the wind around the pond is making ice sheets. The city is cold and rainy. The curtain is rolled up in the sky and the mirror is made up in the evening. Nai Lin wakes up to Yu Yan, but is still jealous of leisurely feelings. ○The green floor of the south building. Stay away from being drunk and walk on the sand. Before the Qin Master's short dream came to an end, the sound of the bamboo flute was startled away. It's cool in the community beside the gulls, and it's dragging, and the autumn heart is half the garden. Fragrant scroll ink, self-display Luo Ping.
[Green cover dances in the wind]
A piece of cake calms the storm, tired eyes come on, and the dangerous fence faces the horizontal veil. The cool flute prolongs the autumn, the rivers and lakes have not returned yet, I am lightly drunk and leaning back. After the disaster, the soul chanted, and it was tied by the quilt and Pingsi. Dressed in red, the west wind blows across the shore, urging the autumn pistils to fall. ○Bottom of the cup. I am so lonely and happy, I can make clear waves by looking at my shadow, and wash away the dust on my short temples. The wine enters the lapel traces, and the good intentions are exchanged for the leisurely tears of old years. In Cangzhou in the dream, I don’t even believe it, and I have no roots. People crossing the river are sold out to see the heroic spirit of the flowers.
[Jiaozhao]
After seeing you off, Cangjiangwan and Wangfeng scratched their heads several times. The cold news in Yanbian is funny. Poyi Laofeng, when you are tired of traveling. The end of the world is not lost. Afraid of losing, there are weeping willows all around. There are plain rocks and clear springs. Nai Jinxi is in love with the jade, and there is no wine to clear away the sorrow. ○Do you know? The dust is rising. Yige cried in the wild, and the setting sun suddenly faded. Geng Lang's soul has been broken for a long time. Bursting into the south of the Yangtze River, the jade dragon mourns. Together with the frost. There is only a touch left, but the eyebrows are still the same. Mengyan swallows the candle in the west window and loses weight. Waiting for Shang Lue, white gull's heart, and heart.
[Cai Lv Yin]
Nephrite Wu Bolu, the painter points the pen, and the style is clear. There is smoke outside the flute, and the clear mirror is silent. The two mountains are constantly green, the sun is setting late, and several rows of birds are flying across the sky. The stream is rolling, the lotus song is faint, and the moon is rising again in the edge of the lake. ○ Throwing away the water essence palace, the dream of the end of the world and the rhombus silk stir up thousands of hectares. Autumn in the 30s, but tears are coming after smoke. Shi Shizhen, joined the old Jianghu, forgot about his opportunity, and decided to form a strategic alliance with the White Ou League. The sails returned by mistake, the frost fell on the temples, and the remaining guests were in Maoling.
[The Two Songs of Jie Yuan]
The voice of the wild goose flies with sorrow, gradually changing to Qin Xianzhu. It seems that it is shaking off, and Gracilaria is traveling by mistake.Who knows if we have been separated for a long time? The brocade paper is overlapping and sealed, and the dream cloud has no basis. ○I am complaining, but there is still a difference between two feathers. The east wind stares behind the curtain, how many times I am ashamed, the water chestnut flowers are so charming. Seeing the ruins of the Cangbo painting, I broke the konghou at night and persuaded the public not to cross.
Yanshengsan low river pavilion, back to Chuihong Road in the evening. The simple sentiment leaves, Wu Bo breaks the clouds and gathers them together. It still lingers in my heart for a while, leading the cup and flute to stir up the west wind, sending autumn away. ○Standing still while chanting, I am waiting for the Gongqingzhi to call out. Fairy birds lead quiet steps, dreaming of wildflowers and grasshoppers, and they come and go with a leisurely mind. You listen to the sounds outside, and sing songs with others tonight. I am sick and worried about the rain.
[Six poems with red lips]
Lift the west wind, drunkenly support a cuckoo with a small soul. Mistaken flowers and doubtful grasses will damage the autumn manuscript in a different way. ○Peeping a smile on the east neighbor, the palace makeup is good to relieve jealousy. Qiuniang felt that Qian's skirt was upside down and it was too early to clean up her beauty.
Dan acupuncture points are spring-like, and it is good to support the roots and fall in love with Zhu Lan. No matter how much fragrance you hold, your dream will be stable in Qinlou. ○The dossier is newly reprinted, and Magu's claws are thin and damaged. Autumn makeup is here, and the guard in the palace is red and small, coming to accompany the flower room.
I pushed the pillow and wandered around, and opened the tent for a few bursts of bright rain. It's raining just now, and the mountains are ringing with the cuckoo's voice. ○To cherish the world, urge the barbarians to leave. Lingbo is jealous, sitting in countless places, his heart is on Qingdun Road.
The bright snow falls through the window, and Xiaomei’s makeup is washed off for the first time. The wind blew up when I was testing the lantern, and the clouds drifted to pieces. ○If you miss the lottery, you can talk about all the things in the world. Sadness is like water, the blanket is cold in the morning, and the sound of spring arrives in the eaves.
turns into ashes, and there are many desolate things in it. The wax plate turns red and sheds tears at dusk. ○If the cup is empty due to leakage, we have to take pity on you. You don't know yet, the red has changed to green, and it's still the land of the east wind.
The lamp is dark and the spring is dark, and the flower inscription is empty and the Yao thoughts are gone. The ring is intact, and the dream ends with the sound of the wind. ○Ten years of Jiang Chun, and Yi Tao Gen Piao. Fairy clouds go, leaving people melancholy, troubled by thousands of silk nets.
[Lanling King]
actually has a white head, the same color as the autumn frost in the bright mirror. The dew and smoke are shaking outside the wasteland, and the chaotic spring bushes are replaced by sad green. Know the taste of rivers and lakes. The tired flute is played on the low side of the prison. After dusk, I feel sad in the distance, like the tide is coming and the night wind is rushing. ○ Yiren’s old travels. On the day of buying drunken fish, the branch gull. Lianghua Asase Autumn Wuji. The wadding on my clothes is stained by the wetness, and my resentment sinks into the bamboo tube. When I leave the clothes, my dream is lost. Even life experience prohibits it. ○Jiang Guo. Waiting for rest. I'm afraid that the smoke will be like a painting, the lead and ink will be cracked, and the sound of geese will break in the dark. There are thousands of hectares of dark snow, and I can't hold it. Where are the wild vines? It’s about the end of the year, but I can’t remember them from sleep.
[Eight Poems on Willow Branches]
Old dreams blow with flowers on the Wei Bridge, new worries turn to tears and ask about Xianggao. The people on the banks of Yongfeng Square are extremely romantic, dancing in front of people in the evening.
There is no main balcony, the sun is half setting, and the person in the flute is even more heartbroken when he leaves. The east wind has wiped out all the yellow spots in the palace, and the old makeup is being sorted out by Dingchou Luan.
is like the sound of cuckoos rushing all night, and the proud horses with green hair are broken into pieces. It has clearly fallen off the Jiangtan Road, but still dances softly.
The whole body is weak and weak, and the time is spent and the heart is broken. He spared no effort to serve Huan Xuanwu and saw the sun setting in Jincheng.
Gu Yuan's waist and limbs are light on the palm, and he is famous for riding horses on Hua Street. Don't be surprised when the oriole sings and it becomes cloudy early. If you plant it near Jinqiao, your eyes will turn blue.
Humanity is like a withered stalk, but no silk; it is blurred by misty rain and dragon pond. The east wind blows away the running ducks, which is better than the knotted calamus.
The flute blows flowers out of Bianzhou, and the long strips are pressed to death to fight against the soft wind. Jinfan healed himself and parted, no longer worried about the broken spring waves.
The snow and catkins harmonize with the spring, and the rooftops are broken by the singing dust in the daytime. The golden whip is divided into long branches, don't laugh at the old dancers in Zhangtai.
[Three Songs of Flower Convicts]
The roots of the city are crushed, the road in Lingbo is soft, and Concubine Qiong comes to the clear dawn. The frozen bird cries to sleep. Lin Ting is surprised by the shadow, and the fragrance is petite. Liu Si Juan pulls Qingming to arrive. And the smoke and ice cut off the marsh. Looking timid, taking new steps, the fragrance has changed. ○Drag the old friend to come in the cold, and the shadow of the pear will fall in front of the wind. Silk hair on the temples is cold, chatting with warmth and fragrant wine from frozen flowers. It hurts spring habits and makes people cry. How many times can we get drunk together before singing. Asking who is warm when you are thin or leaning on a barren fence, or who is boring when you are old and wary?
Shadow screen mountain, lamp lips whisper, the traces of spring seem to remain the same. No alcohol in the night hall. Who is the pity Yan to pick up the hairpin? The honey torch is guarded alone. I'm tired of sleeping lightly and I can't wait to see more leaks. Bullying people's sudden age. There are only three or two shallow plum blossoms and plum blossoms left, and the fragrance sticks to half of the sleeves. ○It is cold and steep outside the curtain. I asked first time whether the east wind in Langyuan would wake up. Fang news has changed, but I am still melancholy and thin. The sound of the flute and the laughter of neighbors behind my back make it easy to arrive, and the crows in the forest are frightened and disperse. The material on the mirror sill and the flying luan are astringent, and the new makeup is full of worries.
I am light and yin, E'e resents the fans, the east wind is intoxicating. Wan Shujiao looks at it. Hun has not composed all the fragrances, and has urged many beauties. The sky shines on the sea and the flowers bloom. Immortal clouds rise near the mirror. Ask the island guest, "How can I move my roots? My heart is thousands of miles away." ○ Flying south, I live in a safe place. It is a place where spring is hidden, and it is the best place to have a jade window. Fragrant dreams are stable, Hun is not envious, and Jiangdu is fragrant.The sorrowful heart drags, and the nightingale whispers, but it cannot be hidden, and it is adjacent to Yan Laili to the east. Obstacles are required, palace brocades are surrounded by ten, and golden bells are taken care of.
[Three Songs of Ridiculing]
Spring rain, spring rain, falling blue mist bilingual. The cloud screen is twice as cold, and Luo Yi is alone in the night. Late night, late night, I dreamed of Baochai downstairs.
Spring willows, spring willows, are they still green in the past? The east wind is approaching the road with thousands of silk threads, and it is frivolous to see people leaving. Farewell, farewell, the season of tears and single clothes.
Spring water, spring water, does not send idle tears. Time flies by year after year, and my heart breaks when I hear the song today. Broken intestines, broken intestines, and Tao are diseases that lead to deep sorrow and habit.
[Two Songs of Throwing Music]
A red building has a sloping castellation. Lingbo's hundreds of teams are as angry as the clouds. The wind filtering through the gauze carries the wonderful fragrance. Go up to the mountain and be Su Muzhai. To understand the mandarin duck's dream of living in jealousy, he can become a writer by grabbing Wu's soul from the net.
A miasma forest appears in Zhaoshui Guxu. People have three or five lychee yin. Gangshi dispersed at noon and the sound of the market subsided. The woodcutter talked at night about the profound meaning of the mountains. A leaf picked up the sound, startling the sand-headed black birds.
[Erlang Shen Ershou]
Tears and Lotus War. The rain is breaking green, and the clouds are falling. The butterflies are now dry in their cages, and the mandarin ducks are in the shade. They are reduced to the city bay, and the remaining paintings are still the same. Yaoyuan Lingbo Road washes away hatred, enters socks and dust, and stops changing. The cold Zen, a cassock, the earth, water and wind are priceless. ○Gossip. The vicissitudes of life are reflected, and the jade statue is poured out. Ask about beetle powder, poetry marks niches and barren moss, full of years, wild smoke is still annoying. There are three cold gulls in the west end of the dream, the two skies are full of resentment, and the moon is bright and far away in the night. I heard something outside the Brahma, the sound of the flute was intermittent, and people came and went.
mirror exchange. Avoid the Old Testament and cross the lake. Listen to the water and enjoy the empty rock, the smoke and birds are deep in the bamboo, just like a wanderer sitting on the edge of the river. In the past, when the poets were looking for the autumn land, they would be surprised and fell. Zeng Fan wrote famous Tang poems, excerpted sentences and other leisure homework. ○Nothing. Vimalakirti's sick couple lies down with pine roots. Ask your husband's house about the flying flowers, what's the matter in a hurry, and clean up the pure fruits of human and heaven. Holding a bun and leaning on it, relying on the quiet sound and money, you can win the incense in Dingzhong. The remnant geese are outside, the wind is rustling with reeds, and the wind gradually rises to send the gods to harmonize.
[Ruan Langgui's four poems]
The flying luan dances for many years, and the bronze flower is proud of its beauty. Autumn clothes are more likely to be cold last night, and crickets crow in the golden well. ○Waving brocade characters, throwing money, and drafting mountains and mountains. Zhi Chengchun is full of hatred for no reason, and the broken poplar urges him to go into trouble.
Shuixi Huase Shangqiang Village is separated from the stream by bamboos. The silk on the sideburns is enough for ten years of dust, and the flying spring clears the kerchief. ○Take thin strategy, manage the empty space, and look for stone warmth again. Waiting for people to return home with a smile every year, the spring mountain cleanses the body.
The night window opens the curtain timidly, and the lights dim. The cold moon is not with us at the fifth watch, and the shadows in the trees on the corridor are late. ○The story of Qing Dynasty, living in the green mountains, with wasted hair on the temples. Ten years of thoughts have entered Zhiyi, and the sound of wild geese will make dreams fly.
Thousands of stemless roots are hanging on the rock col, flying curtains and spraying snow. The wet clouds are twinkling and the cliffs are high, and the spring torrents dare not be bold. ○Yanshan Pavilion, floating water lanterns, No. 32 Youyuan. Who will call Luan Luan on the fairy road at night? The moonlight shakes the phoenix flute.
[Thirteen Poems of Nanxiangzi]
On the first day of the morning, at the west end of the water, no one came to hang the jasmine flowers. Huadi Jiaoge lives on the river, a mandarin duck couple, only going to the red sea and clouds.
The clouds are slipping, the fog is blooming, and I am returning home from picking tea on Xiqiao Mountain. A passerby at the foot of the mountain asked me a question, and he answered vaguely, his face flushed for a long time.
Sanshuikou, combined with Shuangjiang River, the painting wheel can sail lightly. A small breeze comes to the rudder tail of the ship, which brings happiness all year round. Money is spread among the waves during the day.
Luopuo is combined, the jade sand is clear, one peak sends you away and the other welcomes you. Sun and evening are soaked in the mist of the banyan tree, making it impossible to walk, and the sound of flying birds is like urging guests.
In Zhongsu Gorge, the night is cold, and people in Helinghuanzi are still idle. The passers-by rubbed the inlaid notes on the wall. The ape has not returned yet, and the misty hair on the temples and the wind on the hair are in the bright moon.
The flying birds are gone, the angry waves swallow them up, and there is no way to cut the blue clouds in the sky. Sitting horizontally on the cliff with bamboo stalks hanging down, the woodcutter is in harmony, and from time to time flying clouds pass by.
Wushi Ferry is crossed by several families. This year, there is less rain and autumn plowing has been delayed. The lean sun sinks into the stream, the hungry calf lies down, and there is no homework. At midnight, a fire burns on the edge of the rocks.
The rocky hair is left in the south of the Yangtze River, with a bun and a dowry. The rapid oar rushes through the waves to drive away the arrows, the boat is raised to see, and the water flow is like a big seal script.
Behind the pillow, before the sail is lowered, the guest's heart is lonely all over the river and sky. Who will pay the red paper folded in the hand, Cao Lang said, "I am a guest at a place where there are no wild geese."
The letter spreads to the end of the world, and the clear frost on the temples reminds me. The thick flowers in the post house have no intention of persuading me. The deep cup makes my leisurely sorrow fade away. ○If the tired eyes are open, the ancient Ge will smoke a small stick with a pair of smoke. He rolled up his unlined clothes and pushed himself up from the pillow, wandering around, as if there were soft words from Chunhong.
The plain wax ashes are smokeless, and the wind turns and the fireflies shine high on the rafters. Autumn disease is as nameless as being drunk, feeling sluggish and sleeping alone with a bed partner. ○The geese returned to the south after waking up from the dream, and the book from Liaohai settled down the next year. After all, the new sorrow can't be blown away, so I go fishing alone on the Cangjiang River beside the gull.
I can't sleep on the sick pillow, and I have hundreds of plans to dream about Xiaoan.At dawn, the pelican screams outside the east window for no reason, and for a time it feels like the end of spring. ○The bottom of the song is in front of the respect, and the branches of flowers are blooming every year. Once gone, there will be eternal memories. Look, there are only Shengping and the young man.
My way is true, no matter what, I can live with the thunderbolt. The competition is to regard the floating water as the water, rough and sparse, and recognize that there is no full tide in it. ○The electricity was exposed all over the body, and the mourning son Peng Keng was not special. Who can turn around when the strong wind blows? For a moment, he laughs and carries a lamp to illuminate the dark road.
[Two Songs of Complaints from Qing Dynasty and Shang Dynasty]
Manjiang sobbed towards the evening. Another strong wind blows. It seems that someone is returning to fishing, and the lanterns and lanterns are tied with cables. ○The rest of the isolated village is even more shady. As the night gets darker, who do you want to show your courage to? The sand moon is in the dark, and the wild fireflies are three or four o'clock.
The cool leaves are falling like rain. The lanterns on the shore are three to five. The west wind stirs with resentment, and the faint crow looks at you. ○The light radiator Hibiscus beeps. Over there, Huaqiao Zhuhu. It is forbidden to cut off the dust of love, and whisper in the night.
[Four Songs of Cave Immortals]
Freshly picked, warm rocks and clouds are left, and the fishing belt has double texts like vines. I want to loose coal and sell it at night, study and write about the sorrow, and the tears will condense in the jade bird's eyes when I rub it. ○Chongqing flowers are washed outside, small leaves are flying, and the cool green and fragrant ink pond is full. We are tired of being together and return to our clothes, just like Guan Luanjian, waiting for the autumn wave with heart. Then he cooks and cooks the red silk, sells it to Tiansun, and draws new grudges.
I have an unknown autumn illness. I have stopped drinking for three years, but I bought a dogwood bag for the ninth day. I also knew that this was not my land, so I forced myself to go upstairs and sit there until the sunset. ○ Thousands of floating clouds refer back to Chang'an, but they are fishing rod hands in the rivers and lakes. There is a westerly wind on my temples, and there is a lot of frost in my homeland. I am afraid that tomorrow the flowers will bloom and become thin. I want to ask whose home the beautiful autumn light will fall into? There is a solitary guest wandering around, leaning on his high sleeves.
The clothes are left in ruins, and there is no plan to travel quietly. The west wind blows from behind the city. When I lay down in Cangjiang River, my hair turned gray all over again. I didn't believe that the grains and millet were so separated! ○The penumbra of the Jade Tower in the sky is neither fog nor smoke, disappearing the old green eyebrows of the Western Mountain. Why is there more frost, three amphibious crows, and the setting sun outside the decaying willows? I am still willing to stay for a while for the sad people, but I only cry in Kunchi, with stone scales and barren water.
The bright moon shines brightly every year, shining brightly on the tall buildings. It's just that it's easy to feel melancholy at night. Even if Heng'e recognizes me, she won't be worried about anything, and her mind will fly towards the north sadly. ○ When I wake up from the wine, a black magpie rises, and a blue cloud appears, pointing to the void in the distance. Knowing that there was an early stage, I heard the sound against the shadow, as if I were separated by thousands of mountains. It must be believed that the Qiong Tower is very cold, and there are still people who are worried and looking at it with their white heads.
[Two Poems of Qinggong Spring]
The decaying battlements are holding smoke, the water in the dusk pavilion is calling, and the wild cuckoos are calling the near Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade casing are vaguely evocative of poets. The new tune is melancholy, and a spring of flowers is still fragrant and fragrant. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Thousands of tears drop in the air, and they cry out towards the cold plains. What's the point of being left alone? If you know the world, don't ask the disabled monk.
The jade seals the smoke, the cicada throws away her comb, and the phoenix nest spins in the dusk. The plum blossoms are flowing, the orchid screen is old, and the resentful toad does not shine on the solitary frown. The wadding and silk are messy, and they overlap and make people feel cold. The palace clothes have not yet been added, and the luanjian is urged to stop, and the thinning is really real. ○Acacia turned into fairy clouds, donated to Zhongzhou, and my thoughts were empty. I cry when I am hurt, I am worried about my spirit body, and I dream again without any reason. Looking for the fallen joy, I am crying tears of red silk mirror dust. The quilt lamp is dark, it is still the middle of the night, and the cuckoo is talking about the end of spring.
[Five Songs with a Slow Sound]
New flowers have changed the shore, drooping willows are clearing the waves, and the water and stones of the old home remain the same. Xiao Zu smells the root, and the wind and spring sound makes the Langgan. The empty hall is tender and cool, collecting rain, attracting the heart of autumn, and urging the gulls to occupy the side. The book will be offered forever, and the tea and fire will be continued, and the poems will be engraved on selected stones. ○In his later years, he was fragrant and empty, and was ruined by green yin, ripening golden pills. After a few days of precious bushes, I flew south over the bird's nest. Cangzhou's dream mark, where can I sleep on the screen? There is a green mountain with no way to go, next to the clear shade, I put on the mat and sleep in the dew.
The city marks are covered with smoke, the mirrors are fragrant and fragrant, and the patrol is far away from the red dust. It's not nearly dusk, there's no one around, and it's cold and green. To the west, there are two swallows from the old house, relying on the delicate and angry, and the new jealous eagle. Looking for a good place, the eaves are empty, the roofs are empty, and the corridors are empty. ○Who believes in hurting the tired guest in spring? Fei Lin spends his charming horse and worries about Wu Feng. The mood for a feast is strong at night with the lanterns floating. Respect the few people in front of me, and bear the east wind with tears. Before I woke up from pouring the wine on Zhen Cong, I fell into the charming clouds and fell into a dream.
After high school drinking, I went to the country to sing, and I traveled to the end of the world tiredly in the autumn wind. The sunset in Chang'an is covered by floating clouds looking to the west. I'm lying in Jinlou, shocked by the cold rain, the swallows leave their nests, and the guests haven't returned home. When the light is turned on, the water will be cut off to clear the sorrow, and the sick will see flowers. ○I am drunk and full of emotions, sighing at the traces of dust in ten years and my life experience. Personnel news, unbearable dream of Donghua. Geng Lang was mourning, and he was fighting at Jiangguan in a desolate manner. The poems and poems write it down late, relying on Wu Ruan, Wu and Huansha.
The cold flowers are abundant, the spring ponds are filled with continuous rain, and the lonely cicadas are singing lazily.Passing by the wine forest pavilion, autumn is welcomed everywhere. The feeling of mountains and rivers suddenly falls, the gate is closed, but the green pines are still there. Decorate the new view, sit next to the clear strings and send it quietly, the sky is dark and majestic. ○The dream breaks through the arrogant eyes of youth, and there is an old crane in the west mountain to guide the fairy trail. I have always made friends with the barbarians, and I have lost my singing tent every year. Borrowing people from the end of the world, Cong Guiman wanders around. Leaning against the railing to hide in the west wind, looking at the returning clouds, I still feel nostalgic for the old peak.
The singing coots are singing and the branches are empty, and the butterflies are blowing on the empty branches. People are sympathetic to each other. A piece of departed soul, the setting sun shakes dreams into smoke. The red part of the old inscription in Xianggou is spelled with forbidden flowers, and it looks haggard year after year. The cold news is urgent, and the shrine is playing mournfully, and the mourning cicadas are all shared. ○In the end, the oriole in the ancient nest has no distinction. It is flying into the golden well of frost and breaks the cotton. After dancing back to the wind, I realized that the grudges were unfounded. The sky is overcast in the cave, the waves are wide and the night is dark. I hate that Xiangsi is shaking, but I don't want to ask about the cuckoo in the empty mountain.
[Yue Huaqing Two Songs]
The birds crow at noon, and the smoke is clear. Autumn stars fell to the ground, and the wind shattered the sky. The spring flies and the clouds move to the side. On the back of the world, Qi Zhong Chu Liao, the Buddha's fire is deep, and the stone energy is facing the peaks, standing apart. The water sill in Xiaoliao was muddy, and I didn't notice the fish and dragon playing. ○One path to the rock stream. A solitary ape is deep in the cave, and he is frightened to sleep. Double torch sand bed, embroidered hair, Qiu Lian mirror committee. If you want to Li Yuan, talk about hoeing Zhike, go to Zen, there is no place for the beautiful monk. Hinaho. Remove the moss from the horseshoe and identify the character Kaiyuan.
The jade sound relieves the coolness, the forest falls in the evening, and the people on the curtain are singing the incense sutra. The haggard and round posture is covered with fine clouds. The dew is empty, the sky is cold, the trees are old and fragrant, and the painting railings are dark. Who saves. Ask about the small tribulations of mountains and rivers, how many afterimages there are. ○Gui Dianqiu is still awake. When he was about to complain to Fang Zhu, tears burst out from his eyes. I feel so sad about my widowhood that I can't help but feel miserable. Gradually throw away the old and colorful clothes, so that they can be released and the empty golden mirror will be broken. Listen to who is complaining, and wait for him to correct himself.
[Geng Lezi]
The jade hairpin wind blows, the luan fans the moon, and the needle-threading season is leisurely passing. There are candles in the cage, waiting for the morning glory, no one goes upstairs alone. ○On the road in front of the building, Gufan is watching the old man go again at dusk. Put the word "jin" on the golden shuttle. Light autumn brings dawn to the dawn river.
[Shaobian]
lives in Bantang. He is a half-monk and knows everything about life. The monk said, "Hey, I sat around and listened without any fuss." Lao Tzu said that truth begins with strength. There is etiquette. Hengyan does not tolerate being called old. How can I rely on my parents now? Pointing to Shan Lake in the sky, there are cold clouds in Bingshe, and Gaoyu's tears are as clear as water. Even if we can't swear to be together forever, how can we dare to respect our old mane? My friends are mourning, calling me but not naming me, and following my will. ○Hee. It’s so bad that I am weak. What's the taste of being an official for thirty years? My friend died on suspicion of guilt, and he can be remembered by carving the swan. A good smile to consult Zen, three lives to achieve fruition, heavenly relatives have no attachments and are brothers. Even if the bag is sealed and the millet is pressed, what was yesterday may not be what it is today. The remaining century-old houses are separated from Qingli. So he surrendered and returned to farming for no time. Making a futon also involves one’s life experience. With his mouth shut and his eyes wide open, he could discern the verses. But just follow the egret and pick up the gull's mate, and just show your composure. That's all that lives up to its name. As an old man, you will know when you encounter it.
[Three Poems of the Pipa Immortal]
Returned to the West Lake, not in time for the cherry blossom season. There is no solitary string in the air, and the voice of spring is filled with sadness. The orchids are dripping with tears, and the remnant cuckoos are afraid of getting wet with their cries, so their skirts are dusty. When you are drunk, your sails are lowered and your mood is high, and it is easy for you to lose your temper. ○Waiting for reminder, waist flute single shirt, taking advantage of Tiao Shui, the old moon in the east. Send lotus flowers to each other to express your kindness. Spring is getting old, and there is a lonely guest pillow. After ten years of hard work, it will be gone forever. But the flowers are floating in the river country, and the miasmatic sky is crying.
Return to plant peach blossoms, the clouds of Chu are full, and the fairy forest of my homeland is like valerian. The flute outside the forest calls to the bullock, and the spring mud gradually begins to cry and slip. There are tired travelers in Xiangxuyin and Jiangguan, and the road is wrong and the short thread is difficult to break. Settling down in Cangzhou, singing in the daytime, cherishing your beautiful hair. ○The old title sentence, the silver candle on the west tower, the dream dust, the east wind fades away. Who sends a drop of fresh water, sending flying flowers like snow. In the middle of the night, Wu Hong tried counting. Farewell to the bright moon and sobriety. The bottom line is thrown away, and the rumors are empty.
The remaining wine bids farewell to the spring, thousands of miles away, the grass on the bank is the same color as the robe. The separation thread is tired and knotted with soft poplars, and there is a trace of resentment against the travelers. The bottom of the velvet hat is swallowed by the wind, full of sorrow, and the clouds in the country are chaotic. The more silent the sound is, the more Wu Jiejun makes an appointment, we must remember this evening. ○ It's the wild sea, returning from wandering, it's so sad to say goodbye, the world is far away and the food is cold. The jade cup turned upside down is tasteless, bitter and the head hangs white. People are more lazy than Feihua. I'm afraid that next year my writing style will become cold. It's good to take advantage of the time of beetroot and armor, and the drunken people will be green again.
[Exploring Fang Xin]
The candle flowers are thin, and I asked if my shoulders, which are composed of poems at night, are cold and cold. The curtains are covered with lamps, and the sorrow is shed but the wine is snuggled up. The crow of small birds wets the dream of the West, half-fallen behind the east wind. Sit around, wander around, and watch the flowers bloom. ○Moss embroidery on the rock path is teasing the servant girl, and she is obsessed with books. The cloudy and clear weather is not yet stable, so I will explore the dowry and owe red beans. Who cherishes the beauty of the green eyebrows? Only the slender willow trees remain. The dark river city looks like black ink and Wuyun Manxiu.
[Magnolia]
The lanterns add wine to the west building. Farewell, I wake up from the drunkenness and hear the words from the end of the world. Tears separate the leaves behind the dawn curtain, and the full moon is obscured by the night mirror and sorrow. ○The paintings and calligraphy of lovesickness are extinguished in the bonfire, and the jade bracelet of hatred will never reach its destination. The rain left people alone in the spring, and the haggard east wind had nowhere to say.
[Ying Tianchang's Three Poems]
The whirling crows mess up the leaves, the geese drive away the clouds, and the curtain of the building is half-shuttered in the cool autumn. Avoid the idle situation in the wine shop, and the wind bed is full of diseases. Huanghua Society, urging Su Yue, recognizing the old hidden, Langfeng Kuanghe. The sleeves are messed up, I smell the cold fragrance, and I am too lazy to ask about my sorrow and joy. ○ It is a sad song that is useless. It is an old literary garden in the countryside, and the tune is gradually becoming less and less. Go and cross the river as a poet, sing alone as a mad medicine. Chaoyi Chongzhi is strong. In the dream of love, exploring spring. When I return home late, the post road is full of smoke, and I must send plum calyx.
The wind is full of creeping grass, flowers are blooming on the wrong road, and the water is late and the water is late. Yu Lang is old and desolate, and lovesickness is piled on paper. The thoughts of mourning, the questions and answers about saving, the cooking, and the chanting of bag boxes. When I return to my dream place, I smile at the clouds and send the sail leaves away. ○We hold each other together for the past year with a cold heart, enjoy the old with new joy, and the clearest hair outside the strings. Making fun of Duanhong's traces, the cool breeze stirs the end of the sky. Fragrance blooms on both cheeks. The beauty is not separated by the bright moon. Waiting for Fei Zhan, we will practice together and then divide our leisure activities.
curved screen covers the night orchids. Half of the makeup disappears. Dreams cannot come true, and lamps burn out. The plum breeze falls outside the curtain. ○Check the red paper and the round jade bamboo shoots. I know the spring tide is coming soon. Counting thousands of sails makes no difference. I don’t know whether Chao has faith.
[Annoyed by Flowers]
The thin plum breeze dims the sky, like ink sitting in the window at dawn. How many times have the spring gone by the chaos, the green gate and the white house, the dream shadow of the passing year, and the lingering sleep in the mirror. I am too lazy to play the sword, and I am late to write the book. The wine glass is only called the photo of a flower branch. ○I am still the same person as I was last year, and I hate the luxuriant grass. On the back of the road, there is a picture of Tiaoshan Mountain, and I still find a tired pillow. It is a broad and thin plan that travels along the old path, and there are flying catkins and flying flowers, so they are annoyed. As soon as a leaf goes away, I know that the gulls of Linmeng are getting older.
[Seven Poems on Cherishing the Red Clothes]
The darkness follows the fireflies, and the bamboos move when the curtain is pushed, and the courtyard becomes white. When the drinker comes, the moss in the garden is broken and green. Mr. Wu Conggui looked at Xiaoye and Ezhuang in a carefree manner. Xiangmo. The long paper is cracked and stained with traces of frost and flowers. ○The side of Ming Honghai. Lying alone with a floating lantern, the flowing waves drift away from the color. Lovesickness has not been sent to the thin guest. Resistant to autumn silence. The sale is accompanied by gulls in Shihu Lake, and gossips are spread across the west and north of Yunnan. It's about my hometown, only Cangchan can understand it.
Tired of the tide, the tube is limited to one day, and the illness is gone. Holding the soul of the river toad, blowing the lamp half-circle green. If the clear string is turned by mistake, whoever understands it will be a guest at the banquet. Spring silence. The fragrance is dark and the shadows are sparse, and the sound of plum blossoms is heard. ○The west wind fills the road. Wu Chen comes and goes, wandering around in idle sorrow. Cangzhou dream is in the old country. Flying geese travel north. Xie Xi's poems and poems in his later years are all based on Geng Lang's experience. I want to be the same as the old man, and I am drunk with the maple color of the garden.
The old geese are gone, the crows are turning over the sun, and the sorrow is gone. Before the dodder fur is gone, Tiaoshan Mountain is full of resentment and green. The cold flowers and drums are beating, and the calligraphers who laugh and frown are also present. Zhanji. The old immortal in Xihuan is about to take a rest next to the gull. ○The red fragrance of the old street. Flirting with the dream of a bronze camel, half of the nest marks are left behind. The country has experienced a miasma every three years. North and south. It's a good time to stay in Xuyu in the cold weather, and the five lakes in the snow sing the calendar. Just cross the wall to have a drink, and enjoy the view of the mountains with ease.
The dreamy cup reminds you of the short time to install, which is very tiring. The west wind turns to the sea, and the sails break through the blue sky. Gao Hongyun is far away, but he has a poor eye and a guest in the river tower. Silence. There are wickets on the forked road, and the songs are endless. ○The car dust is nine miles away. The flower field with a sea of people was borrowed by Wenliang Yanni. In ordinary life, Jun admires his homeland. Wuyunbei. The setting sun is golden and cold on the ancient platform, and I look forward to reliving my old days. When Wuling was young, he was sad and single-colored.
When a tired couple mourns, I sing a long song to see the sun off, and my sorrow is powerless. When I was sick, I went on stage, and the frost and forest were beautiful and red. When your lips are full of wine, you should smile and be strong-willed to serve your guests. Noise and silence. The sound of wild geese in the cool rain makes them rest in peace. ○The bright light spreads across the street. The dust is full of dust, and the waves are full of sorrow. Zhan Lu burst into tears and went to the northwest of the country. I miss my old mountain and think about it, where I can go fishing and travel to find my experience. Xiu Wanying was speechless, wondering whose house the autumn scenery was.
A thousand senses are running away from me, I am wasting my days in isolation, and I am tired of my energy as I grow old. The wild goose seals the book, and the wild clouds disappear into the sky. When you are away from the group at the end of the year, you are worried about thousands of miles away and have no time to move to other places. Silence. The lamp pillow wakes up from fatigue, swallowing the wind and waves. ○ Thousand classes of purple roads. The spring thunder in the hall is ringing, and the old sound of green cattails is borrowed. Gu Leng's dream fell, and he went down to the country to fight against the north. What's the matter with holding Chulan in your hand? You are not allowed to climb through the nine levels. After flipping through the book, the wine is drained and the green chickens are in autumn colors.
The disease is reduced and the frost is gone, and the sea is gloomy and the sun is gloomy. Singing bitterly still exerts strength. The couple is in a state of confusion, and the distant mountains are green and forgotten. Sitting on the bed at night, I smell the wild geese and the head of the building is like a guest. Silence. The embers of incense are lingering, and the reading is misty and breathless. ○ Luo Chuang Fen Mo. All the feelings are unreasonable, and the flowers and tears are flowing. The woodcutter wind brings love, and the water country sends it to the north and south. But what's the use of seclusion? I keep worrying about my origins. Make a fishing rod plan and consider the weather of Shihu Lake.
[红林楽 near]
The cherry blossoms are divided into cages at the beginning, and the bells are tied to the branches. The new rain comes from the reeds in plain hands, and the fragrant fragrance messes up the Yingpan. Drinking wine is served in the east garden and west garden, and I want to sit and chew a meal in the wind. The Old Testament once gathered carved saddles. Hua Li watched behind closed doors. ○The wax-embellished book has not reached its peak, and the taste remains sour after being sealed. He is as lazy as he is, thirsty and full of sorrow. It's better to be old in spring at the end of the world, the hall is dark and green at night, and the dream soul is still parked on the lake on the boat.
[Two Songs of New Wild Geese Guozhuanglou]
Pink gold dowry, leisurely love affairs, the green window reflects the beauty. Wuluan reclined and saw the small letters connected with each other. The more fragrant wisps are draped on the sleeves, the peaks of the mountain are covered with dark daisy, and the eyebrows are crescent. Habits of gentleness, dark color at night, sold out with Chinese years. ○The spring breeze fills the basket, accompanied by cyan jade on the curtain, lightly illuminating the low servant girl. It's full of love and beauty, but the sky is full of green bamboos and cold weather. The embroidery room is half warm in the smoker, and I ask when the makeup will be round. Looking for an appointment, I can see the spring shadow of Xiaoying, not separated by Pengshan Mountain.
The netizen is dimly lit, and the floating lamp is nearby, shining brightly in the light of the cup. There is no sound to be heard, and the dust and musk deer echo in the sky. Don't lean on the moth eyebrows to pity the short temples. Before autumn, the mirror shadow has already been frosted. In the youth field, Naihe called Che, and deeply hated Zhou Lang. ○When the wind blows for no reason, the dusk clouds will stay and the setting sun will stay. Wangjing's old dream, intoxication will not change the sadness. The heart of the kite moves faster and faster, fearing that it will fall apart. Thirteen golden geese fly. It's late in Cangjiang, and I'll pay for it in my share. It's very sad tonight.
[Four Songs of Butterfly Love Flower]
The dialogue between Orioles in the East Wind in No. 1 Hospital. The time of drinking is uncertain. Who is the master of the red calyx? New songs and dances in the bead curtain and brocade tent. ○Personnel information is of great concern. Falling catkins and flying silk threads are all signs of sorrow. The tears linger in my eyes, and spring seems to be promising, and the rivers and lakes are filled with flowers.
The wine is flowing like snowflakes. Swing the hairspring, and the light will turn. You may not be able to clear up the song at the snap of your fingers, but who can limit it if you rush to take pictures. ○Hua Chen is born opposite. There are many obstacles in my steps, and I have not understood the depth of spring. The smoke is heard through the window and no one can be seen. Jie Hong's new music is all over the place.
The solitary flower branches in the dusk with the rain. The sky is covered with red railings, separated by mist. I miss you dearly, and the east wind cares about idle words. ○Proud red lapel wears embroidered household. But the answer is muttering, and I don’t know who is in charge. I will tell you the details of the incident in detail, so don’t let me misunderstand the myriad of threads.
It is easy to rest with jealousy. The stormy and heavy weather brings us to the Qingming Festival. The clothes are colder and more timid. ○ After a short nap, I feel hot while leaning on a mountain pillow. In the dream, I was worried and kept my eyebrows furrowed. The leaky and half-dry streets are full of drums, and the night cuckoo crows above the pear blossom moon.
[大麺]
The stone railing on the back is low, the flower flags are fixed, and the fairy clouds are clustered deep in the sky. Carving jade hats in the early morning, standing there with red makeup on, looking like a golden house. Drunk valerian blows smoke, the clear cloud rises at noon, and the east wind lifts the delicate feet. The three-life dream of Yuhuan, relaxing in the pavilion next to Wu's baby, accompanied by the loneliness of spring. There is no title on the leaves of Nai Shu. The cup is filled with hatred and the hair on the temples is touched by a ruler. ○Happy travels must be held by candles, while drinking and doing things, the scenery runs fast. Angry and confused, I climb the stairs and my eyes are sick, and my heart is worried when the water is cut off. The red fragrance is curled up, and the tears are full of tears. I don't believe in the throw of youth, but rely on my homeland and the sound of cuckoos to urge me. The situation is scattered and clear. There is no land to plant and buy, and I return to the green grass in the courtyard. For whom the resentment will be continued.
[一calyx red]
Shuixixun. There are small boats on the waves, crows and spring birds. The river is raining with yellow plum blossoms, and Wu is wearing white silk ribbons, sending him off leisurely and drunkenly. Replacement of old travel, flat smoke wastes green. The remaining words of Yan are nestled deep in the hall. The feelings of horse racing, the weather of baking silkworms, and the sales volume are used to sinking. ○You can't help but wander on the wrong road. It's a beautiful boat, but now I'm lonely. Fragrant shadows and curtains, Chinese-year-old zither pillars, melancholy and sparse lapels. Don't be surprised, he is a wild and charming person, with beautiful hair and a young heart in his heart. Waiting to talk about lovesickness and resting, the moon is shining in the shadow of the building.
[Two poems cited by Cymbidium fragrans]
Blowing the late fragrance, dotting the makeup mirror and half of the servant girl's hair with green clouds. Remember to sit down and know the fragrance. The most annoying thing is the rush of dawn under the lamp. Hua Yin steps up, facing the annoying and singing Liang Chenlai. There were so many tears that I accidentally dropped the pomegranate skirt. ○ Junyue microwaves, leaving the intestines and drinking wine, this hatred fills the eyes. Afraid of returning to the horse, Pin and Su'e were alone at night. Kaiping Mountain is green, dreams are heavy with jade, it is difficult to meet each other, and the southern geese are short and careless.
Floating mats of water, a shallow cool dip, and a new sleep on the gauze. If you catch a little wind firefly, you will know that the fan is tired and fluttering. The leakage is long and the dream is short, the road is blocked and the mountains and corners are blocked. If you want to complain, it's hard to do it. Carrying a candle and a jade rope falls to the west. ○Who owns the secret flute? There are three or four flying sounds, and the water tune is wrong. Counting the cooking style, I didn’t shed any tears. The inscription is red, the Gui Palace is vague, and in the late night of the Qing Dynasty, who is ironing the little eyebrows and worrying about the calyx.
[Zhu Mazi]
Sigh, the cold rain is drifting and the smoke is falling, and the orchids are fading and the dew is falling, so the mountain year is late. Looking towards the empty tower, the towering corners of the city rise, and the frost forest spreads out. Sitting and lamenting the sad songs of a solitary guest, weary of strumming on the complicated strings, gradually urged to leave the banquet. The eyes need to be sober from the wine, and they have to look at people, and the autumn tide is like an arrow. ○ When I think about the place where I am traveling, my sails follow the falling geese, and my dreams first turn to Hunan. Lingjun was filled with resentment in the past. The desert waves and dust blow.Ding Yi listens to the rain and the wind, sings the story under the lamp, and the people are far away from each other. Thousands of leaves are soaring in shock, and the setting sun is full of dimness.
[Bu Shuan Zi Slow]
The smoke from the furnace is warm, the rain behind the curtain stops the cold, and I am extremely tired and cannot sleep in my quilt. When the wine was first sold out, I heard Lin Jing blowing loudly. It brings frost to the sky, and the broken horn urges people to rise. Changing to the dawn, the beautiful scenery is plain, and the toads are shining endlessly. ○Lonely leaning on the railing. Gradually, my eyes are cut off from the dust of Beijing, and my dreams are lost in the Xiangshui River. Later, he made an appointment with Ding Ning and sat down with Fei Cuifeng to pass on his tears. Good years are wasted in vain. Waiting for an appointment, I will see him off in the world, fearing that he will be haggard when he returns home.
[Jiang Nanchun]
The decaying willows stand on the platform, the bright ripples are shallow, and the green and Yao trees are arched like a wat. The poem is caged in the soil, the old home is cold, and the autumn pen is hanging down. There are few signs outside the door. The waves are closer and the steps are cleaner. There are several dishes and medicines in the south of the mountain, horizontal books in the north of the pool, and Wu Gao accounts for the Duanyanyue. ○The flying immortals are gone and the festival is floating. I want to see the Qingcheng full of history, and I dream of climbing Luo Ge. The remaining couple in Shanyang still explain, Rouge Qingxue. The neighboring flute is frightened and the wind stops. Outside the setting sun, the painting railings are warm. A few people are retreating into seclusion, the autumn language is cold, and the maple roots are humming in the dark spring.
[Looking at the sea tide]
The long wind blows the wild geese, the flying clouds fly across the sky, and the sky floats endlessly. The dream of a lonely night, the scales of thousands of mountains, and the sorrow of the numerous bamboo slippers. Come and take a walk. The first moon shines brightly on the Xiangpei, and the frost wipes the Wu hook. The sound of Yuanhe, outside thirteen screens, chirped in the clear autumn. ○Yanming wildly hits the stream. Ask Penglai's left stock, who will collect the remaining paintings. Waving a fan to Gu Rong, Wang Can ascended the tower, and now he is not a feudal lord. Playing the flute to call the Qiu, I want to bet that the Yellow Sea will be returned to Cangzhou. In the present day, the king and the barbarians share the throne, and boats are sent out across the five lakes.
[Shizhou Slow Two Songs]
In the passing time, the kingfisher crows, and spring arrives in the south. The small calyx in the clouds is red, and the jade posture in the stream is white. Looking for incense, I poured it into the sky at night, and the smoke on the lake was gone. The slanting moon wanders around alone, and it is hard to find the good news. ○Remember. With the news of plum blossoms in the two capitals, the Qiang Guan was shocked and could no longer live in it. If you are used to living at the end of the world, you can know the east wind in your dreams. I have shed all my tears in the spring, but it is so late in the year. I still listen to the dusk flute in Jiangcheng. Arouse the hearts of the five lakes, and rely on the power of chanting in front of you.
I wake up with a spring pillow, accompanied by a painting hall, and the sky is vast. There is so much information in the south of the Yangtze River, who will lose the fragrant plum blossoms in Shuiyi. I have been nestling in the wilderness for a long time, and I have not heard of the flute in the mountains. The jade dragon is still silent in the dusk and snow. The sound of bamboo sticks outside the sky brings the season of floating lanterns. ○Gefa. After visiting the Champs Elysees and returning to Hechun City, I immediately forgot to say goodbye. Missing the setting sun, the sound of clams and cuckoos is extremely sad. I don't know how many eyebrows I have drawn when I look in the mirror. The new makeup disappears and worries are gone. Holding her bun in a bun, she was speechless, and looked at the yellow moon again.
[Fisherman's Proud Three Songs]
I have been looking for the double-painted boats in autumn for a few days, and I have been busy on Hengtang Road. Dreaming of walking in fragrant clogs in Xiwan, where you drink wine, the wild waves and strange rocks are still worth mentioning. ○It is easy for new coolness to grow green trees, but separation takes advantage of Gaohong. There is a wax torch floating in the well of Yiye Jingwu. You must read it. It is raining in the south of the Yangtze River tonight.
The bookmarks and picture frames around the couch are so hazy and scattered. As we get older, we can't help but drink strong tea, wake up from a slight sleep, and use wind furnace decoction to treat autumn diseases. ○ Thousands of miles of blue clouds are full of wild geese, and the running script breaks the shadow of the blue sky. The moon is half up, the curtains are thin and dark, the railings are standing alone, and the sounds of business are full of sounds, but no one can hear them.
The incense bowl is filled with light, and the cold firefly opens and closes the green window paper. I searched and recited my work and night plans on my pillow, but there was no word. I was so tired that my eyes were closed in thought. ○Weeping dew and mourning insects hinder a short sleep, and the dream returns to the curtain as cold as water. Cece Gaolinwan starts at the end of the month and gets up in the middle of the night. The sound of autumn is nothing to do with idle people.
[Two poems with dark fragrance and sparse shadows]
A yellow patch of dirt is exposed, looking at the bottom of the hat of an old friend, peeking at the flying snow. The disease started on the Double Ninth Festival, and the west wind blew and the cold settled in the evening. The sad taste hurts the autumn and makes it more bitter. I cherish the mist and the clear spring in my home. Remember the cold incense, call for the remaining cup, and talk about the clear things across the fence. ○The road to Chaisang is far away, it is late in the year in the small town, and the people are miserable. Sitting alone in the lingering fragrance, there will be an east wind, which will not change the drifting of the leaves. The branches are sweet and fragrant, and there are frost queens and lonely butterflies. I hope this flower will bloom from now on and shine on the misty moon.
Broken beads one by one, I borrowed the pink letter to collect them, and my family was in the ice and snow. Notes keep treasures, and do not wait for good gold to be cast into flower bones. After the calamity, people are getting older, so don’t worry about it and let your spirits fade away. No matter how many times it is born, the flavor remains and flows into the words. ○What's more, the rooms are all charming and beautiful, and the fragrance of the rupilla leaves is everywhere when you knock on them. Exhibiting the lanterns and the night, together with the concubines, is appropriately called Yichun Liantie. The new moon in Luofu shares the same dream, wishing to be transformed into two fairy butterflies among the books. If several generals are interested in family treasures, there must be a grandson who can tell them about it.
[reverse offender]
Tears look at the new peach, and the old charm is swept away. The free door closes early. Sticky chicken paintings and swallows have been deleted. Whose family is competing, the new sound of flutes and drums is heard by crows in the forest. The sparks are cold when the sticks are left, and the east wind does not let go. The leakage is dry, and there is no frost at dawn. ○Helping at the plum window, green tubes and silver poppies, the past is like a passing bird. I dreamed of seeing my homeland, and it was green in spring, and the new year was coming. Afraid of only benefit, flowers and branches are annoying. The pain hangs down, and the white head groans and looks into the sky.No matter who is the best, drinking every day is no good. People who wake up alone are old.
[Three Songs of Lun Xun Fang]
It is still cold and I am dreaming, the sky is green and smoke is coming, and the orioles are frightened at night. Like a guest in the east wind, the twilight bamboo sticks outside the flowers are blown away. The sun sets, the cuckoo sounds, the running water rushes, and the fragrant grass spreads all over the sky. On the Anhe River Bridge, there are hanging willows and knots, and people leaning against the curtain are far away. ○The weather is very cloudy and sunny, and the line of mountain eyebrows is relatively miserable. According to the back fence, it is not called Hua Luo Qingfan. After passing by the chaotic pond and taking a break from singing and dancing, I feel sad about the cheap time of cherry blossoms and bamboo shoots. I'm bored, it's dusk, and the rain is falling.
The dust in the mirror hides the thin body, the moon behind the curtain exposes the sorrow, and the sick person is alone in the house. It's the end of spring when I accompany guests, and I can't bear the smoke of medicine. The old fragrance is passing through the wine shed, and the new tune is complex and lazy when singing. Temporarily hazy, there is Tongjie Street close at hand, and the car is whirling like thunder. ○ Fortunately, the crows of the city dispersed, the arrows were heavy, and the dawn outside the window was still shallow. It may not be enough to fall asleep, but love will arise in the half-quilt of sleepiness. When the geese pass by, I hear the tears of the flute, and when the flowers bloom, I climb up the stairs with eyes wide open. Chu Yunnong was expected to lose to him and win money from the court.
The crane sheds off the inscription, and the crickets roost in the desert. Who cares about the fragrant scrolls. A white head hurts the spring, and the poet has a lonely soul to send. The fragrance of hateful ink sticks to the new silk basket, and the sorrowful string heart marches in the idle palace. In the old south of the Yangtze River, I was afraid that the lakes and mountains would be destroyed, so I had no place to rely on. ○ Take away the beautiful things and tidy up the broken things. The same life is like a sea of clouds and melancholy. The whole family is in love, and there are Chu Lan’s idle tears in it. The pearls and jade are often associated with the feeling of being near the water, and the articles are more than just about Tibetan mountains. When the soul is summoned, in the small town of Kuma, there is no sound of the flute.
[saiwengyin]
The flute returns to the pond road, urging the wild color to shine. The old love is broken, the clothes are red, and the rain is falling in the east. The guests are not able to bear the sway of autumn, and they are careless in front of the colorful brocade screen. Recalling in secret, there are old treasures in the bush, carrying a boat in a hurry. ○Flower Palace. The week is approaching, I am tired of flying south, and I am haggard and dreaming of Jinliang. It is expected that the dew of the West Lake will be exposed tonight. Unexpectedly, Taiyi Xiancha will be resented by Gao Hong. Mandarin ducks are the most miserable, sleeping in the desolate waves is like dreaming of the wind.
[eyes charming]
The sound of rain moistens the old clothes and the bonfire, and I am sick and pregnant after drinking. The dance red disappears, the west wind returns, and leaves Ye Ye's heart. ○The traveling clouds are not controlled by Qiu, and the dream goes up to the empty building. The two wild geese in the cool night clearly tell me that the road to heaven is leisurely and sorrowful.
[花心动]
If you are like a flower branch, you are called Dongjun, and you can decorate it to your heart’s content every year. Dancing with embroidered flags and singing with golden bells on festivals are not just a matter of leisure. There is also a swing club on the partition wall, but it is half forgotten and full of spring. Outside the Xie Bridge, the east wind is so cold that it probes my heart. ○The years are still flowing like water. There are thousands of strands in the sky, and the silk poplars rub against each other. It's the same water west, it's time to pick tea, but people in phoenix boots are far away. Fan Wan flutters at the butterfly and makes a clear appointment. After thinking about it, I made up my mind and sang lazily. The door is closed and the fence is dry, and it is red and wet all over.
[Two Songs of Frost Leaves Flying]
The clouds are chaotic and melancholy, and outside the solitary sail, swallow trees are floating in the wind. The wild geese descended to Cangzhou first, and it rained in the cold zone. In an instant, the wheel flew past the feathers, and the dust particles were shocked to see the red mulberry trees. Afraid of leaning against a dangerous building, the sea air is close, the dusk is over, and the mood is pure while drinking. ○Not to mention the glass bowl at the North Pole, the drinking tent at the east gate, and the song of resentment is hard to sing tonight. In the simple book, the meaning of apes and birds is vast, and the words of wild chickens can be found in the sky. The dream cannot enter the calyx thread, and the discussion will go away by listening to the water and the wind. The flute of regret is left, its sound is flying, the lonely fish and dragon are looking at the place where people sleep.
People crossing the river at dusk, passing by with age, talk heavily about the autumn rain on the lamp bed. The north wind drives the geese temporarily to fly on the cold zither pillars. Accompanied by a solitary guest, the palace is broken and the feathers are broken, and there is only the pain of the cuckoo at the end of the world. Romance talks about the Fu family, Leng Mengluo, Cangbo teams, and white gulls live together. ○The long record is that the dust blows from the policy, and the floating clouds cover the eyes, and the road crosses outside the east gate. The left peak was shocked and returned to its soul, whimpering in bronze camel language. Laughter and tiredness of crossing the river overnight, the fishy dust is still near the Manjiang River. Respecting old friends, when we are tired of visiting, we will tie a spring sail and bloom with flowers.
[Five Songs to Set the Wind]
The kingfisher appears in spring in the mirror, awakening the hearts of the five lakes over the years. The beautiful plum blossoms that illuminate my eyes are blooming near the water, and I feel melancholy. The fragrance is sparse and the little red hairpin is missing. ○Don't go to the clouds to remember a thousand kinds of memories, which are useless. Come here and pour them out 100%. There is no wild goose to support the book on the river and the north. Don't talk about it. The miasma in Hainan is thousands of miles deep.
Seventy years have passed, and there are no poems left for you to drink. The sorrow of autumn is determined by old age. Only when I believe that there will be no wind and rain, it will be desolate. ○My strength has been reduced since I went up the stairs, and I have many sensations. Yanyin’s military energy is extremely high. The whole place is the same, who is there? I am in love with the setting sun in my leisure time on the railing.
The flower is close to the top of the building, the book is clear, and the water and clouds are pure and clear. Two people in one hospital become poetry companions. Tian Xu, the banished immortal is Canopus. ○The north gate of the past is strictly controlled and forgotten, so that it can be stationed in the Antarctic. I'll drink more calamus wine and drink noodles for longevity, and I'll be intoxicated with you in my dreams.
I wrote down a golden pen and sat down to watch the green dust flying around Pengdao. In the sky, spring sorrow disappears and the white hair disappears. I personally pick it up, and the white hyacinth flowers are soaked in purple clouds. ○The two become poetic companions in the same hospital. God promises that the intoxication is so heavy that it is peaceful.I have Dongpo's three hands in my sleeves, scratching my head, but filling in the poem about letting fish out in wind and rain.
off-screen Chunfan is willing to pause. Flying on the back, Yan was surprised at the beginning of the journey. Huabiaoman invites the lonely crane to stop. A few more. The wild scenery of Menghua City is green. ○It is difficult to express tears when the Longshui River is divided. The more I chant, the more I turn over the tune, but I still can’t make a sound. Don't sleep with plum blossoms. Must be drunk. The flavor of being drunk is better than waking up.
[Dream Jade Quote]
I accidentally startled Hongmeng, and I was on the Cangjiang River, but I didn't return. The moon is slanting in the sky, and I am carelessly picking up my pen to Leng Feng. The tide ebbs and flows, the journey is half over, and the bagpipes are played on the sand. The ripples in my eyes are harder to find than the moving clouds. ○The Jinping and Luofan are still scattered traces of the old joy. The mirror whispers to the stars, and the little moth is sad and lonely. Feng and lovesickness, red scales and cold weakness. Sitting alone, with frost on my back, I don't believe in the lanterns and flowers tonight.
[Yanqingdu]
饯奯奯人村 drum. The sound is urgent, and the wild geese are low and singing oars. Qiongxiao City is far away, and the flames of the anointing furnace are thin. What a beautiful spring. The calyxes in Hengxi River are delicately red, embellished with beautiful words to welcome the new year. Ren Xiangxi, the snow is falling, Hanshan is indifferent. ○The silver lotuses and green emeralds are in charge of the western boats, and the songs are calling for the bounty, and I forget to travel. Apply dry ink on the paper, dip it in a cup of light wine, and warm yourself to sleep. The wild chicken will pity Shen Meng, it is one night and several places in the heart of the country. The wind calls the mood, the sails color the New Year, and the journey to spring is on track.
[Six Ugly Three Songs]
The east wind is gradually rising again, hating the corner of the world and being unable to repay the spring. The market buildings are half dusty, the lanterns are shaking on the plain walls, and the fragrance is sparse. Time passes in darkness, there is a party, and there is a solitary post on the misty river. Whose family is playing a mid-stream tune, driving steadily in Penglai, and Liu'ao is just around the corner. The heavy waves blow their breath. Make Tage smile, and fly away without leaving a trace. ○The people behind the canopy window are silent, and the flames of the anointing furnace stand straight. The old lover Qiong Xiao is cold, who can say anything. The dream of bronze camels circles the fragrant streets, fish and dragons spread freely, and the spring city is like ink. Exchange money, enjoy a short night. In Guitengli, I am unconscious and have my own head, Su'e's true color. Take care of Luan affairs and pay for the guests. Late at night, every drop of tears will be wiped away with silver and lotus.
The plum blossom gradually fades into powder, and the green and warm colors are newly made. Half of the Jiansong River, the spring ice halo is reduced, and the dense and fragrant festival. On the edge of the thin bouquet, there are two shadows of embroidered flags, which are lifted up close to the treasure platform. The horses neighing in Fan Street are hot and dusty, the mist is fragrant and the curtains are rolling. Deep in the cold city gate. It was formed into a formation by Qiongxiao, which meandered through. ○The chanting gradually stops, and the condition invades the year and the hair grows. Remember the story, the feelings are different. Chun Fang is singing late again, and the flying clouds are splashing tiredly, and Qufang is wearing towels and socks. Silver lotus ashes, moths fly away. It's unbearable, I spent all my money in exchange for the bright moon of the old days. The song is still in the dust, but still spinning in the snow. Listening to the laughter, the outside of the fence is white, and the lead is clear and dark.
The material is fragrant and beautiful, protecting the bottom of the candle and the Qingyin Chi Pavilion. I put on my makeup late at night, and my makeup turns into a spring of jealousy. The lead is scattered. The dream revolves around the swing, lying on the red branches, surrounded by brocade. The delicate and delicate golden bells and ropes are stained with tears, and the face is bright and elegant. Ten years old fragrance still remains. Even if I lean against the railing for a salary, my mood is still bad. ○The silver screen bead foil, Nai Gugen accidentally entrusted it. Haiyan has a habit of moving around, but she has no place to stay. Luzhang has broken her promise. She has a sense of loneliness and loneliness, and Ah Huan can feel it. Love is broken, Jincheng Tianjiao. Only then did I realize that, fortunately, I don’t care about the east wind, so I can just enjoy my sorrow and joy. The setting sun is thin, but I still love the red calyx. I'm afraid that the wall will be covered with water, and the flowers will float away in the chaotic water, and no one will think about it.
[Qingboyin]
The small waves are irregular, which is a good situation for the day and the flow of the cup. The greenery is cold. The wild wind awakens melancholy. The sound of Tamase scattering in the air must be heard by someone listening to the dining clouds. Self-pity only smells the root, and it falls, chime at noon. ○I am used to traveling alone, relying on danger and Xiu, and my thoughts are uncertain. Tea is served in the furnace, and the smoke is dim. The coldness is in the nature of the mountain, and I am willing to bear the windlass to repair my fur. Sitting there, I'm afraid of a piece of ice and looking at people's dusty shadows.
[Three Songs of Six Unit Orders]
Shadows perch on the stone railings, with a few scattered jade branches. The cold ripples are desolate and green every year, and I am alone in my heart. A smile flies into the air, and the pearls turn into dendrobium. The golden house where materials are measured, the sound of flute, evokes new makeup and bamboo repair. ○Whoever believes in Kongzun will cry easily, which will ruin the spring situation. How many floating musk deer towers are fluttering in the east wind. Don't go to Qiong guest and complain about Songling song. The kingfisher is still sleeping, but the lights are closed, and the dream is moth green under the drapery.
Bisha smoke, the grudges are unfounded. It is clear that on the east side of the Song Dynasty wall, there are several layers of curtains and foils. The lanterns that support dreams are spinning, not illuminating the sadness. Later this evening, the sky is blue and the sea is blue. It is useless to miss lovesickness without knowing it. ○There are still tears in the ashes of the wax torch, dropped before the farewell feast. Luo Dai's poems are originally untitled and are woven out of ideas. There are thousands of zithers with simple hands, so don't worry about danger. The phoenix curtains and mandarin duck mats can fight the haggardness, but do you know whether the golden hairpin can't be broken off?
The paper kite passes by in the wind, supporting the road and the flute is hot. The wine flag on Jiangqiao is green, and the grass-colored skirt is connected to the waist. Thousands of red stars splash into the water, and it’s a beautiful festival. The sound of several new ears, swinging outside the rope, arouses the spring people to try their luck. ○If you don’t believe in Xuandu’s dream, you will experience all kinds of calamities. The hundred-foot incense stand has no owner, and the bell is broken intermittently.The chicken and wine bring back the soul, and the money and paper become ashes and turn into butterflies. It shines on people's faces, upright and upright, but it is the moon of the old days with peach blossoms.
[Recruitment]
The rain before autumn is rare in life, and the bed is facing each other tonight. Tired guests always have no sleep, and they only pick the remaining red sea. Thirty years of sorrow and joy have not faded away, but they are written in pottery on wine glasses. The intermittent sound of the eaves and the rustling of the windlasses are lingering at times. ○Pictures. White Ping Bo, Bian Zhou Yue, when will we call people to go east? Asking about the Five Lakes League, a group of gulls came. The scarf is still lingering. Like guest Yan, Shangmi Canshe. The water window is dawning, the bright mirror is lingering, and the plain silk is full of silk.
[Qiuji]
Don't sleep on the pillow with gurgling gurgling, the rain curtains are blocking the way, and the light is dizzy. The wan leaves are cool and noisy, the crickets are sore in the evening, and the sick and pregnant are accustomed to restrain the strength of autumn. The tired chanting takes a break. The traces of dreams linger on the water shield. Ask about the homeland. Whose family members are sitting alone in the middle of the night in a miasmatic country? ○I lie down in shock at the end of the year, the river weeds are scattered around, the fishing rod is meditating, and the poems are sparse and silent. With the westerly wind at its back, the remnants of the cuckoo are bitter, and the bronze on the temples turns white in their prime. Bu Fan can handle the matter. I'm afraid that when I wake up from the drunkenness, I will be surprised to see the lakes and mountains in the painting, the waste water for pearl fishing, and the dust-breaking new post.
[西平乐]
The bushes are worried about the crows, Lusha throws away brocade, and the thoughts of separation fall darkly in the corridor. The ink is worn on a single garment, the calligraphy is deep in the candlelight, and the clear joy and grass are covered with three frosts. Look at the fragrant and withered leaves in the mirror, and even Yuping sinks the boat. The west wind is growing old, and the wings of the underworld are gone. Who can shake the dust of the world and return to the north safely? ○The curtains of flowers are in bloom, the fairy books reflect the palms, the anthers clear the lake, and the rainbow moon shines brightly. He can't disappear, he can talk about strange rocks, he has hollowed out the spiritual chariot, and he has said that he is very worried. Liang Yan comes again, the nest is rustling with dust, the furnace ears are stunned, and she looks to the horizon with despair. Let's stop working on the wine bar. Who can point to the setting sun?
[Three Poems on Willow Shaoqing]
A corner of the wind ripples, the scales blow away, and the brocade feathers carry them back. The escort team is trying to catch the clouds, but they are unable to play with pearls, and the bright mirror is lingering. ○The empty boat self-resolves and forgets the machine, the collar is diffuse, and the red makeup is slightly green. Sansu Lakes and Mountains, twenty years of dust, who is right and who is wrong.
Small ironed paper, cigarette root exposed pistil, Qianying personally passed down. The pink body is twinned, Huang Yan has a dream, and the thin negative is Chan Juan. ○Every year, the mountains are empty when listening to the rain, but they cannot disappear, and the flowers in the sky are blooming wonderfully. Don't ask about the east wind, how beautiful and fragrant it is, the leaves are in a state of Zen.
The orchids are green at night, the jade flutes are cold, and the brocade is silent. The moon falls on the lonely tower, and the clouds travel halfway across the gorge. Who wakes me up from my sorrow? ○Lingering and uncertain about his life, I can knock on it and find the jade in the west chamber. In order to repay Qingluan, I can see the bottom of Mei'an Temple and remember the words clearly.
[Sweeping Flowers Tour]
The sky is light in color, the river is dark with apricot leaves, and the breeze is gentle. The freezing waves rolled up. The feeling of sadness seems to be pity, and the old sand gull is in chaos. Look at the cold spring red, carefully step on the Yaoguang mirror at dawn. Calling Wu Chuan, I am afraid of the secluded surroundings of the five lakes, and the dream of flowers is rare. ○The view of the building is still misty. It's a chaotic mirage floating in the cold, and broken jade shining brightly. Spring is over. Being cut off by Concubine Qiong, the curtains are warm and graceful. The plum blossoms are flying on the tired flute, and the tune of Jiangcheng has changed. Liu Mianzao. By mistake, people in Dongyuan and Feng Shoes were swept.
[Jade Link]
Flowers sing and take off clothes fragrantly. Meng Yunxiao. Shatang's sculls are as beautiful as the dust, filled with sorrow and waves. ○The wind sets the catkins in the pavilion. The nightingale gossips. No matter how cold the spring is, I sit and watch under the setting sun.
[Two Songs of Flowers on the Road]
The cold wind blows from the north, and the clear weather suppresses the snow in the east. The fragrance of sleeping ducks spreads everywhere, and the smoke disappears next door. Qingmen remembers or not, ten miles of poplar silk is broken. The jade note is even brighter than the dream. The wax torches are withered, but the Han Palace still has a festival of fragrant flowers. ○ I am worried about the day, and Du Yu is bleeding. The spring urges me to go to the rafters, and the waves are catching, and the dangerous fences are patted all over, and then I can believe the mournful song. Sitting in the middle can tell. It is said that the journey is difficult, and I deliberately say goodbye to you.
The column branches are too low, and the bird traces on the book moss are broken. The fragrance of the spring apricot porridge stimulates new fire. The flowers are in the wine bin, and a cocoon is wrapped in sorrow. Sitting around with stacks of books. It's dark in the afternoon, and the patient is lying down. ○ Hongfang has no owner, and she is happy to plan every year. In the turbulent day of spring, who is locked up, the rivers and lakes are all over the ground, and the dream leads to the wind blowing by the woodcutter. Wild gulls are more lazy than me. If we look for each other, there should be someone outside the world.
[Lychee fragrant near]
The official bridge is covered with frozen mist, and the lamps and lanterns are double painted. The west wind blows through the curtain, blowing the dark Lingbo Road. A little bit of cool toad in the east of the sky guides visitors to peek into Zhuhu. After singing, the graceful zither and wild geese are still talking. ○The tour is light and diffuse, taking pictures all over the river and Liang. At the end of the year, the river is empty, and they win the love of tiredness and get married. In the heart of the red candle building, will you be sober and heartbroken at the end of the world? The dream committee is a wisp of clouds.
[Light yellow willow]
The east wind is strong in the evening, blowing the plum blossoms into snow. Seeing the Jiangcheng Cold Food Festival. The fallen willow postal pavilion is getting greener, and the ten days have passed since then. ○Feast and song break. Happy farewell to spring. Hit the sculls and visit the peach leaves. Wu Tianke and Yan Han are all left. The night after, I missed my lovesickness, where are the traces of dreams, coming and going in the light moon of the green stream.
[Three Poems of Frost Flowers]
I am familiar with the five lakes, so when spring comes, I am afraid of dust. The kitchen near the water is clear, and the broken mountain is close. It is still difficult to live in seclusion.The wine glass is wide, tied to old love, and will always stay in front of the flowers. Counting Cangbo, facing the idle gulls on the mat, the troubles and sorrows will not send away the late alliance and the cold. ○ Luo Shu and several people took shelter, sighing that the wind branches were not settled, and the cicadas were startled by their complaints. The chess game is new and sad, the lamp bed is full of old words, and the complicated chanting is limited to flying notes. To rent a painting boat, I owe Cuimei and Singxiu Bianjuan. With the sun setting behind my back and leisurely cooking, Xiaofeng looks in the mirror.
Weary guests in the hall thank you, wake up the west wind, and dream of old Wu Gao. Tobacco Hengtang, jade plum blossom pavilion, Ci Xian went to live in boredom. The purple flute is full of love, it's late at night, and the moon is bright over the South Bridge. Accompanying the old house every year, there are short and long strips of willows with yellow crows. ○The host and guest have traveled against each other for hundreds of years, so they have a seat as a dodder and a fisherman. Zhu Di is in the sky, Qingmen is in spring, and the frost and flowers are drunk and the ink is fluttering. The tired soul is waiting for a call, the material is scratched, and the love is still resurgent. Those who cross the river wander to the north of the mountain, and the swallows return to their nests.
A stranger in a foreign land, I asked a few people to respect me and forgot to wander. The sky is full of red sounds, the chrysanthemums are late and autumn is tired, and the pool platform is chaotically leaning against the frost and clear sky. Sitting without veterans, bear the old madness and stop weeping in the new pavilion. Just filling the chest, the block must be poured, and the sorrow will not be equal to the wine wave. ○ No matter how many difficulties there are, I will know that this is not my land, and I have endured the loneliness. The golden valley sings about businessmen, the jade mountain supports drunkenness, and wastes half a day's floating life. The picture rails are even more beautiful, and the smoke and lingering light are ruthless. Next year, hold on to the dogwood and seek the old alliance with its evening fragrance.
[Two Songs of Ruilong]
Wugao Road still has green sills with vines and trees on the terrace. Every year the cold food comes from the east wind, which resents Luo and hates Qi, which makes spring disappear. Standing still with tired chants, the singing bird cherishes the urge to return, and the lover is in the hall. Travelers from the far end of the world can be crazy, talking about flowers and wine, talking in their sleep. ○Infinite floating clouds and thoughts, leaning shyly on short skirts, rocking poplars and dancing wildly. Guiyan is accustomed to anger and empty curtains, and people's intentions are not due to reason. Apply make-up and blur the color, write hurtful sentences. Never before have I seen the clouds screen my eyes with tears, and the fragrant dust step back. The mirror turned red. Leaning on the railing to wait for things to happen, my thoughts are cut off at dusk. Overlapping worries become strands. He is old and the lights are falling and the rain is falling. The night is long and fast, and there is a kite of dust.
On the bridge in the city, I still lie on the willow and blow the cotton, and go to the waves to practice. The curtain pavilion in Fangchen is stunned, it is drizzling at dusk, and the hairspring is spinning. If the arrows are leaked, it is easy to drink up the wine by singing songs, and the old lapels will be splashed. The black clothes are also timid and cold, I wake up from the dream of Xie Tang, and the spring clouds are late. ○Throw away all your youthful past, people who cross the river will grow old, and they will travel far into the sky. The orchids are still growing in Wei'er, and the wrong roads are in disorder. Withered red and diseased green, this evening's sorrow is hopeless. Without saying goodbye, the candle in the west window burned out, and the bell in the south neighbor was broken. Sit and read the incense scroll. When people are sleeping, the clear songs gradually fade away. Happy mood and lazy east wind. The gift is empty, and Wu Niang laments and plays the zither. The most cherished thing in the later period is the Hengtang sail piece.
[Autumn Night Song]
The water window is empty and the torch is bright. The dream wakes up and disappears in the autumn hall. Still leaning on the pillow, it is foggy and rainy, and the insects swallow the dawn. When managing worries, it seems like chaos. I have been away from Jiangbiao for three years. The place where the condensation disappears is where the late waves are wandering and the grass is fading in the sky. ○We will lose all the green hills, but we will not be able to do it, and we will see each other in old age. The disease invaded Pan Ling, and he hated Jiang Lang so much that he looked into the mirror and had frost on his temples. The cool breeze comes early at the end of the day. The rivers and lakes are full of sight, and the wild geese believe in Yao. Afraid of tall buildings, counting the stream of light, the sound of horizontal bamboo blowing, full of resentment.
[Longshan Club]
There is no wind in autumn, so the garden is desolate, and the willow tower is in Asia. The sails of the Five Lakes are not straightened, and the shadows on the temples are peeking under the Liuhua Bridge. Return to Xinhong on the side of the formation, leading the forest and mountain eyebrows to be green. In the tired and fragrant period, the cool bushes are musk and millet. The wind blows with gold. ○ I still remember the song of Yi Shang, with white eyes and blue sky, trying the arrogant horse of Wuling. Chu Wei shook his head and fell behind. The flow is full of hatred, and the west wind lingers in the night next to the flute. After ten years of traveling in Beijing, the bottom of the cup is full of water, and the waves are pouring out in disorder. The house is full of drunkenness, there is an appointment to wait for the owl, and the barbarian car is hanging behind.
[An Gongzi]
The rainy night dims the garden, and the sound of wind leaves blows in the empty pavilion. If you are tired of pouring a deep cup, you will not get drunk, just wait for Nan Qiao. In the dark, frost toads hang on the shadow wall. There is no such thing as backlighting or lying down. Gradually, the bamboo sticks moved sadly, and the beautiful roses blew down. ○The overlapping fish calligraphy is like a blur, and when people are avoiding people, they chant and look at each other and become sad and surprised. What happened the day before, the bitter east wind faded away. The dream says that when the feast is over, don’t let the danger end. Luan mirror dust, there are Cangzhou paintings. The yellow pond of Xizhu is cold, as if the sunset has not yet set.
[Yu Zhuxin]
Lead Frost and Shadow Yang. It is the sorrow of spring in the broken jian, like the palace of pistil pearls. In the Shechen courtyard, the east wind blows out, swirling the tassels into trusses. The hairpin beams are not up, but they are all covered with acacia flower nets. Look upright, you will see a faint cloud, and you will be ashamed to offer a new reward to the young man. ○ I am wearing a new makeup, but I am afraid of short dreams of Penglai and the Forbidden City. The fragrances are gathering and avoiding, and things are falling apart. I wonder who is close to the solitary root. The lush jade barrier relieves you from deep sleep and brings you a graceful and graceful life. Don't earn money. I am a wine-loving person who smokes the cage at night.
[Hua Xuyin]
The new moss condenses on the foundation, the idle bird peeks at the curtain, and the orchid is bathed in the old festival. The sound of painting drums is low, and the flames of burning furnaces are short and worried about seal knots. If you don’t believe that the neighboring flute is frightening, it will help Xiaoyin to sob miserably. There are two pomegranates in the corner, which faded red and still have pleats on the skirt. ○The plum rains in the south of the Yangtze River send away the departed souls, and the resentment flows through the wild rice leaves.Chu Yun's chapters and sentences are half deep in autumn's heart. Where does Jin return to sail in the evening? He hates that the road is long and the waves are broad. Hebi is ridiculous, who can answer the question?
[Two poems on mountains and flowing water]
Jianghe River does not move in the gentle breeze. Counting the autumn period, the green onions are everywhere. Outside the flowers, jade goose plays music, and the dusk rhymes with the beginning of the night. There is leisure and sorrow, and the saliva is green and red. Accompanied by the needle, there are many faint clouds in the courtyard, and the candlesticks are painted. Dip three stars and turn it carefully, and the dripping dew will become thicker. ○In the machine. The brocade book hates it every year, and it is based on the saying and the green water of the Xuan Palace. It is easy to miss a good night, and the dream will bring you a lot of fragrant velvet. Xiaodiaoling and Jinyu are partial workers. It's a matter of man and nature, and it's easy to make a fortune in Luochi, a tired guest, sober up and clear the clock. The sparse curtain under the curtain is broken, and the old love in the hairpin box is lost.
The Forbidden City's French music is cold Zhu Xian. The dragon sings and the wind and rain rumble. When the banquet is held, the rhyme of southern smoke flows into the flowing spring. The river is clear and slow, and the corners of the river are turning over again. Where Chenyou is, the sound of immortals fills the sky, and he joins the Cangguan. He Chunlei's other hall, in front of the imperial incense. ○Unprovoked. Qingcheng is thousands of miles away, and the yellow swan spectrum should refer to the cold autumn. Messy apricot blossom poems, dreams of thousands of rivers and mountains. Asked about the colorful clothes and how many times the smoke floated. I have few close friends, and I touch the tears of my lonely ministers, and express my sorrow and sorrow. The sound of the palace of hatred will never return, and the words of the long bird are desolate.
[Linjiang Xianman]
The wind is blowing, the wind is blowing, the cold birds are buzzing, and the willows are growing tall. Outside the painted bridge, the setting sun shines brightly into the fading lotus. go through. In the old dream-seeking place, there are heavy clouds and ripples. Go and have fun, change the fireflies to look at the mat, and sing in the wild water. ○ whirling. Gold plate and green wine, there is nothing to worry about tonight, so I linger in Conggui, there are not many old moons. by him. Naiqin Tower was blocked, the book was wrongly dated, and there were two moths of resentment. Finally haggard, for someone to look at the mountains and rivers.
[Two Songs of Snow Plum Blossoms]
The wine is weak, and I stand alone against the west wind. I am anxious about the tall buildings, and it is easy for me to feel the autumn mood in the horizon. It rained all day long at Tingzhou, and the water culvert near the bridge curtain was empty. I am in a hurry to leave, hoping to break the book period, and meander to Binhong. ○Hurry. Lead Li Xu and Zhu layman's clouds, and paint Wu Feng lightly. The old country is fragrant, but the leaves will fade into red. The ancient city is rocking the ground, and I am lying on the screen with sorrowful dreams about the coming year. As before, the pillow is heavy with fatigue, and the soul is broken and sparse.
The rain is endless, and the sails are wet all over the river city. Facing Kongdu, the green curtain of swirling waves is dark. Mix the Hongyin water tower flute, swing the fireflies and light up the city bridge lights. On the evening of the lunar month, the road to the fairyland is vast and we are about to welcome you. ○Lingren. Ten years of events, told to Man Jian, are like a dream and doubtful. Tired of wandering south of the Yangtze River, Yu Lang lived in sorrow ever since. Jiuzhanqiu acquaintance with the disease news, candlelight in the morning to change the guest's mood. It also invaded the pillow, thousands of leaves were shocked, and there was no sound of foreign business.
[Caiyungui]
The spring clouds are near the tall buildings day and night. Good scenery, green and red harvest. When I return from a frightened dream, the phoenix candle is languishing on the ground, and melancholy things are called out for no reason. There are new grievances in front of you, colorful clouds, singing at the end of Wu Tian. I am busy chatting happily, but the old Yankong remains. ○Have a rest. Jiangnan hates the land, and asks Qingcheng what to prepare for. A wave of water is gone, and the water is scattered, and the water flows westward. Even if I don't come, I will sing and dance, and the orchid boat will be wet with tears. Passing through again, rivers of grass and flowers, new sorrows along the way.
[Yulinling]
The crow cries astringently. Near Lianqiao Road, it is dark and rainy. Wherever the lonely cloud passes, the doors and alleys are in chaos, and there are traces of moss and flowers. The thin dark current swirled up, and gradually the dust moved the wall. Very Yanyan, Qiyu is adjacent to the east, and no one here knows how to play the flute. ○The end of the world is sober and soul-destroying. But suddenly, the ground and the sky were filled with tears. The articles were in vain, scattered and scattered, and the remaining writings were left in Maoling. The solitary chants in the night should be taken into consideration for the present day and the cold food. When the paper is cut and the soul is summoned again, the dream is broken and the maple forest is black.
[西河]
Singing and weeping, the broken lamp can still be remembered. The ashes of calamity are close at hand on the railings, and the night is full of mosquitoes. The people in the thatched cottage go to the sky, and the western mountains peek into the laughing eaves. ○Who can lean on the old garden tree again? The empty boat seems to have no ties. For the sake of the king, Xu Yuyan came back, retreated from the cold and abandoned the base. Menghua sleeps in the autumn of Beijing, and the idle gulls fall in love with smoke and water in the sky. ○ After the drunkards are gone, they ask Huang Long and talk to their neighbors. Sad about Xieyang's life experience. Afraid of the bronze camel, the yellow dust on the broken road, the tall buildings in the northwest, and the floating clouds.
[Yangchunqu]
I was sad last year, but this year, I still look forward to spring with despair. There is a good east wind in the curtain door, dusk is approaching, and the swallows return to the painted beams. Lighting season. Shocking the homeland, plum blossoms fall like snow. Only then did I believe that the powder was red and sticky, and I woke up from drunkenness. Easy to become news. ○Wanting a banquet, Dongyuan Jianqun Road. Who makes an appointment by mistake, the flowers in the book are written on the leaves. Now the song dust is all green, splashing with echoes and rolling tears. New voice but with twilight. Even more upset, the jade dragon blows through. Look out the door, watch the passing water and drift flowers, and go to the south of the Yangtze River to enjoy the dream.
[Sacrifice to the gods]
Look at the length of Chutian and the dusk rain. The passers-by are stopped, and the cries of wild geese are painful amid the sound of garrison drums. It is sad to wear orchids in autumn, and Wu Dengyu wakes up from a dream. Lying down with the west wind at your back, the distant Cangjiang River is far away at dusk. Don't be too careless to touch the dragon's anger. ○Even more desolate, the sun sets on Xinting Road.The mountains and rivers and the different scenery are the questions of the present and the past. How can it be that despite the vicissitudes of life and the war that destroyed the family, Yu Xin wrote a poem about the south of the Yangtze River.
[Lang Tao Sha Slow]
The cold brings frost and water, and the dark rain cries the leaves. The eaves are beating with sorrow, and suddenly the curtains and stirrups tremble and their shadows disappear. There are continuous threads and continuous spring threads. On that day, Luan and Luan were getting married. When they asked Gu Jing and Miao Wu what they were dreaming about, Xu Qianchen actually threw them away. ○ It is sad and sad, the brocade book is sent far away, and finally I stop reading about jade. I have a golden bed in the west wind night, and the misty wild goose swallows it. Sighing and breaking off the robe, I would rather believe that I don't hate my heart. I fold it in front of a bright mirror and take the center like the moon. ○But the peaks are shoveled, and they are as flat as the Yellow River. The huge rivers are surrounded by dust and dry up. Angry thunder rises, Yuandong returns to summer snow. More than a thousand years old, relying on the pestle to destroy the thickness of the sky, and the deep alliance between the earth and the world, there will be no lingering relationship.
[国香MAN]
A frame of the soul of Hunan, the water is vast and the smoke is dim. Jiang Gao was haggard and haggard, leaving Lingjun with him. What are the poems written by Rimu Tong? There are Chanyuan and Beizhu Guchian. The fragrance of the country is wandering, without allowing the east wind to change the soil and move the roots. ○After years of hatred for the country’s subjugation, the copper plate is cold and the lead is stained by tears. The Forbidden City is far away, and there will be no spring in the goose tube. To make up for the remaining records of Xuanhe, the kings and grandsons will disappear as they grow old. Don't be annoyed by flowers, step into the waves, and be filled with autumn dust.
[quyuguan]
Wild fire sticks to the embankment, cold clouds bite the base, and the frost sky makes the sun fly. Guests can climb up the stairs to see nothing, and there is no way to see the declining willow trees. Complete ileum. Discussing military affairs with a cold eye, sipping wine with a worried heart, there are not many scenery to sing and appreciate. What I love most about the green hills is that I look northward in a hurry. Send slave country. ○The domineering spirit is depressed, leaving whimpering, and the resurgence is pouring eastward, and Yongjia is flowing in, but Yu Shubao is sad. Feeling confused. And the jade dragon blows up, like a scale of west wind, the country is like this, a few winding railings stand out against the setting sun.
[Qingchun Palace]
The decaying battlements hold smoke, the bells in the pavilion are watery, and the wild cuckoos call out to the Qingming Festival. The beautiful watch restrains the soul, the yellow chants accompany it, and the dark dust room is deep. The broken clouds and jade headbands are vaguely spiritual to the poets. The new tune is melancholy, but a spring flower still recommends fragrance. ○Who will listen to the mourning strings that are broken by the cold? Shura screamed miserably, and the mountain ghosts greeted him. Pengdao is crazy about dust, Zhitian is sunny, sleepwalking and envious of riding a whale. Tears drop thousands of dendrobiums, fighting for a long time, Hanyuan Zongsheng. What's the point of being left alone? My life experience is uncertain, so don’t ask the disabled monk.
[Drunken Old Man Cao]
嶕峣, Danjiao, Zhumao. If you are entrusted and run away, no one will attack you. The thousand-year-old hill will return to its nest. The old man's thoughts are wandering, and he sings and ballads. The old fisherman and woodcutter said to me how many of them there were. ○After the present power is gone, I will return to Liao without a dream. You'an's tears disappeared with her white clothes and soap hat. There are trees in the mountains but the wind whistles, there is an end to the sea but the waves are rolling, and there is no twilight morning when I miss you. There is no need to work as a matchmaker with the same mind. The fighting handle is swaggering, and the Wangjing Tower looks at the sky.
[Qianqiu Sui]
Jade Yuqiong Tower, green emerald ladle, regardless of the spring frowning calyx. The old branches of the flowers are still blooming, and the sticky and falling catkins are still floating. The dowry is made of gold and brocade quilt is made of iron. ○Last night I dreamed about love affairs, but tonight I will think about them again. It’s a pity to make an appointment with Yunmengtai. At first, don't worry as much as the sea, but now you are as thin and heavy as your waist, with four strings and five patterns of embroidery, but you are leisurely.
[Qi's]
The moon is bright and the east wind is the east wind. Fire and silver flowers intersect, Qi and Qi trees intersect, and brocade becomes a cluster. Long Cong, good curtains, singing orioles and dancing swallows in a hurry. The tired guests in Cangjiang sing at night, and the three or five people here are of the same mind. The city is warm and moths are noisy, the trees are buzzing with crows, and the rosy clouds are reflected in the celestial beings. Count money in exchange for it, the running water is short and the night is short, and the spring sky is blowing to the ground. ○Looking back at the emperor's journey to Tai, Ao rides the phoenix and blows, and meanders along the green Cong. Yaotai Road, green and charming, red and graceful, with heavy pipes and silk. Thousands of hibiscus. In the cyanotic mirror, the fragrance of clothes is close at hand, walking from west to east. As time goes by, the candles turn, and I pat the railing quietly, looking northwards dimly. ○It is not a leisure mood, urging Ni to sing, playing tricks on spring work. When I asked if I could see Widow'e, I went to the flowers and drank wine. When I was young, my laughter spread around me, I was drunk with a pickaxe banquet, and I dreamed of being paid a fortune. Fei Niannu, haggard Qingge sent. The eternal hatred and lingering damage to Qunong. The night window remains, and the wax fades red. When I read the Fang Festival, my sleeves are wet with tears and the dragon bells are wet. It is very cold in spring. Drums are painted on Fan Street, and there are many fish and dragons.
[Cherish the Yellow Flower Slowly]
The love of Chu Ke is fragrant. I can avoid it after a dream, and the spring wine is in the full moon. Close the door and live in the world, quietly leaning against the white temples. The roots are resistant to late growth and are stained with bee yellow due to shame. Holding flowers and worrying about lonely butterflies. The old fence is almost desolate. Read the emperor's hometown, recommend autumn handsome appreciation, drifting away from the heavy frost. ○Ten years of living across the Cangjiang River. A few points of splattered English are shed by old tears. In the later period, I was lonely, Chu Yun was in the late festival, the dust was half gone, and the oatmeal sun was setting. Thin posture does not dare to hurt the old age, it is cherished, and the curtain is made up of autumn. The most heartbreaking, the night quilt is full of fragrance.
[Bo Xing]
Yoshiki in the back hall. A moment of fun, the mood of dusk. Not used to it, the soul of spring is unchecked, and the wind is floating around the river bridge. The branches and flowers are lying in the east garden, and the spring roots are heavy with lovesickness sentences.Then the colorful flute will be used to recite the song, and the golden person will be drinking wine, urging the neighbors to play the new flute music. ○It is also a self-explanation and a series of errors. I can't bear it, and parrots are chatting outside the green window. How often do you know that there is no place for flowers outside the door, but there is a beautiful silk thread hanging around when you are idle. Regardless of wind and rain. But the eyes are wandering and tearful, and I can't see anywhere in the world. Dangerous fences are everywhere, and my heart is knotted with clouds.
[A Cluster of Flowers]
The clouds are like ink stains and decaying walls, evenly painted with brocade. Who said that a graceful and graceful body is suitable for a palace body? I can't dream of it, but it floats on the fence of a musk deer. There is no one to repay the rain of news, and each of us spends the cold spring. ○It’s hard to talk to people when I have two swallows flying on my back. Fangchun is like a guest who has grown old. He has no distinction and returns to you with a handsome face. It's better to look at it when you wake up than to waste your time and get drunk.
[Gatepu Lianjin]
The mandarin ducks have had a cool dream. Autumn is graced by the Western Pavilion. Let’s stop dancing in neon clothes and make an appointment next year. Xia Yanzhuang avoids the dawn. Xiang'e smiled. Qianying Lingbo is small. ○ Annoyed by flowers. Xifeng married late, and the house was empty and heart-wrenching. The idle gulls looked at each other coldly, and the people across the river were divided into old people. The dust mirror is left to take a photo of itself. Sad tune. How many grievances there are between the two branches.
[Yanshan Pavilion]
The spring beauty of the country is overwhelming, the golden house is put on makeup, and the beautiful glow is illuminated to add charm. The Zhu Pei Cui Ying, dipped in the pen and the fragrance of heaven, suppressed the new score of Luoyang. In exchange for the robbery of Yanzhi, it is still chapped and dyed, and Yaotai is exposed to wind and dew. Sharing the payment, accompanying the wandering Husha, apricot blossom words and phrases. ○He was once crowned with beauty, and had a jade table and palace silk, and he was praised as much as he could. I carry the flowered deer in my hand, and when the person who hangs the list comes, there are vague clouds lingering around me. Several passes are clear and flat, so they should not be called, relying on the sound of the family. Standing in sorrow, the red calyx has been red for a long time, and no one is in charge.
[Mei Ling across the stream]
The new year is full of flutes and drums in the east, but the old love is empty. The withered face in the mirror is red with candles, and I feel sad that I am already dead! ○Xianmenfangxin is more carefree than others. Ask Dongfeng: Is it the same as last year or different in the depth of wine glass?
[Fragrant Grass Ferry]
Dream rain drops, green frost waves rise again, and fine dust scatters. The fallen maples are shining on the shore, and the red and yellow colors are on display in the rock paintings. Lin Biao toad mirror hanging. Welcome the boat to the east. It's getting late, the weather is cold, but I am carrying my hometown community behind me. ○To provoke. After drinking, I became sad, tired of thinking about Shuangxi Yuyin's words. Then he won, the green mountain fell, and he pondered about the handle of the fishing rod. The atmosphere of the sea is full of people, many Yan, fish and dragon repair the night. After asking for a long time, listen carefully to the beating of sail drums.
Qin Yunmiao, Chu soul is injured. Get up in the middle of the night and think alone. A comic book with small characters on red paper. Knock with both hearts, and behind the elbows, there is a sachet. ○Throw the jade ruler and burn the silver spring. Who will sit with you on the Acacia bed? Old flowers and new leaves must be equal. Balcony Road, new and acquired, two mandarin ducks.
[Shihuxian]
The wind is gone. At the end of the year, there is a fragrant news from Xi'an. Who is the little red hairpin, crazy about poetry, and the barbarians are taking advantage of it. Yanluo joins hands and wants to shine together, clear spring and red powder. No points. Accompanied by green birds, the paper tent crows. ○The moon is bright and fragrant. Sanjiang City, old hatred in the flute. At dusk in the frozen post, I will be sure that my timid jade muscles will be damaged. The moss on the outside of the bamboo is dry, and the snow on the temples is withering, and the style is full of spring charm. The flower dream is stable, but the cold night must be endured forever.
[Dongpo Yin]
drags Xiao Xueji. Exploring plum blossoms in wrong years. A furnace of Phytolacca sat at the bottom of the window. Qu Teng can only sleep. Qu Teng can only sleep. ○The peppercorns are no longer sung, but the butchered Su is tasteless. It is also forbidden to use the words "Yichun" and "Yichun". The neighbor explained the matter of knocking for peace. The New Year and the bright moon are. The New Year and the bright moon are.
[Han Gong Chun]
At the third watch of the miserable month, thoughts return to the broken soul, and the cry can turn red. How many tears hurt the spring, blowing up the east side. Wet the silk scarf and try on the trendy makeup to make your hair look slightly rosy. The new imperial edict is a gift, a nest of auspicious brocade, Zhaoyang is still in a daze when facing the mirror. ○ Carrying a tree but wasting his talent and thinking makes Jinqiao deeply resentful and teases the flowers and velvets. Youth is accustomed to staying in idle land, and does not complain about the east wind. The dream of crane forest is short, and the lonely bamboo root splits the mountain sky. When I smell the sweet fragrance and cry softly, when will I add more treasures?
[Wind into the Pine Two Songs]
The hair on the temples is slightly intoxicated by the smoke and dust of the medicine, which can be cured by illness. In the floating life, I have realized the dream, and the fragrance of Buddha is left with me. Sitting on the bed in chaos, the autumn soul still rests firmly. ○It is rare to see new green clothes in public, and God is tired of complaining about people. It's not my pity that the boat was born. I hesitated to ask about the details of hanging the sail. The wild goose is full of shock waves, and in the later stage, there are many irregularities.
The auspicious clouds cover Nanzhou, and the two cranes add to the beauty. I know from afar that there is a new sound in the Qingping screen of Jiaqing, and the music and government complement each other. The chrysanthemums in Litan Lake are beautiful, and the mulberry trees in the East China Sea are soft. ○The immortal Weng Jin wears water and clouds in autumn, and sings about Cangzhou. Several peppers and plum blossoms are patrolling the eaves and laughing, and the sky is full of spring entering Qiongou. Next year, at the scenic spot of Magpie Peak, colorful clothes will wrap around your knees and fragrance will float on them.
[Zui Penglai]
Looking to the south, the clouds look like a cover, with clusters of green flowers, and pavilions and halls to the north. The family celebration screen is opened, and the Qiongzhiyao banquet is warm. The East China Sea is mulberry soft, the Nanyang chrysanthemums are blooming, and the scenery is clear and autumn evening. In the mood of an inch of grass, I hold incense and pay my respects to the star in Antarctica. ○The fairy man of the pink department, Caifan returns, in front of Sangpu Mountain, Banyu ascends the calendar. The new voice of Yuefu, the fairy wings of Qingluan.The scent of cinnamon is strong, and the fairy cooks the preserved meat, cooked by Magu herself. A song of orchid is passed down to the guests of the Tao family.
[Magpie Bridge Immortal]
The old dream of Wuling, the new covenant of Wuhu, and wandering around the world. In front of you, I inspect the last year's people and make offerings to them through the medicine furnace. ○The gentleman is wise, he hides his bag and veils his hat, and even when he smiles, he has no trace of himself. The new painting with green eyebrows is heart-warming, and it depicts distant mountains facing each other.
[Xizizhuang]
The horse is driving the candle slanting, the flute is playing on the back, and the waves are half empty. Covered by frosty yellow willows, I have many sorrows, I am separated from my feelings, and I lie on the bridge in the sand. Smell the chicken and dance. Let's do business and live in idle clouds. The dream of becoming a marquis is a brocade velvet hat and a jade flute. ○British travel error. At the end of the year, the sky rises, shooting tigers into the barren mountains. I drank wine and wiped Wu Gou several times, and the dark night illuminated the remaining trees in the countryside. Xiao Guan's poems are concise, his poems are changed to Jiang's table, and he ascends the building to write a poem. The dark scars on the lapels are worthy of the feast and the rain of tears.
[Man Tingfang]
Shu State's ice strings, Husha dust pillars, and the double sandalwood clutches and clutches thousands of times. A few songs in the spring breeze, a small change in Yuefu. At the inner banquet, I drank the wine and took the opportunity to take pictures. I once looked at the sun with my red sleeves. Sadly, the jade is scattered, just a piece of clothing. ○In Dongtang, I once knew the music. I pressed the six modalities and swallowed the Qing Shang alone. The pheasants and roosters flew down from the carved hall. Ande has two voices: crimson tree, glazed armor, and dragon incense. In the human world, thunder breaks the pillars, and the words rise and fall.
金沙鴴鄄 smoke. There are flowers falling in the wind, and snow catkins floating in the air. The words and sentences that urge Fu will leave, and the waves will be like dust. The halo of the full moon is like a golden basin. According to the farewell feast, the dusk is in a hurry. The bananas on the road to Liozhan are red, and the trees in Baqiu are green, which is like the spring in Fengcheng. ○Cai Bian Road, Huangyan Tun. The situation is full of hatred, and the sake alliance is new. It is said that the wind and moon in Yingzhou are respected by the piano in the thatched cottage. Tomorrow is from Yangguan. Ten thousand heavy, clear and cold clouds. The dream lingers around the edge of the glass, and the traces on the soul are left at the end of the world.
[Mei Wu]
Recognize the text and return to the phoenix, the shadow falls and the giant is startled, and the autumn water half dawns. The seal script expresses sympathy for each other, the rhombus flower is thin, and the pingting makeup is accompanied by a scarf and hat. The beautiful eyebrows are tiredly swept, reflecting the east side of the stream, and the red bean branches are small. Confession is like a shadow of vicissitudes of life, carrying wind and sadness. ○Who would have thought that Yutai people would grow old. The remaining mountains are cold and the copper halo shines alone. After the thick hair has been thrown away, the heavens shed tears, and the spring comes and the heart breaks and the flowers appear. The crimson clouds are lingering around, and there are so many musk boxes and red emeralds. I remember seeing the round figure in person, smiling charmingly with the full moon.
[lateral offender]
It is easy to get tired when traveling in a strong way, and the guest taste disappears after twenty years. Who sends. It is to exchange candles for flowers and wine. After waking up from the dream of Jianghu, I began to believe that the article was cheap. circulation. Very green ink and red teeth are still worthy of companionship. ○The old moon in Pingzhou, the rhyme of the flute and the distant sky. The food arrived. In the autumn of Gutang, it is not too late to return to the crane. Tired of taking pictures of colorful clothes, anxious to persuade. A woodcutter song is waiting for you to sing.
[Parrot Song]
The two teeth are washed with moss and copper is ancient. The spirit of hatred turned into cold ashes, and hung on the wall in a prostitute for safekeeping. ○The names of the ninety-nine workers are carefully written, and the Xuanhe map is embellished. Ask who can kill the wolf with his hands, and play the ibis with heavy drums and music.
[Yongyule]
The setting sun is setting over the rivers and mountains, and the wind is shaking the grass and trees, so where is the base? The iron halberd is smelly and the sand is fishy, the sword and ship are flashing, and the heart is broken to conquer the south road. The spirit flags and armored horses are still there for people to point out, and they still remember the desolate garrison back then. Remember the city, the clouds are as dark as ink, and the crows explain the misery. ○I am old when I join the army. I have a boat and a heavy boat. Who can take the book and sword? Xiao Ji. The Xiang River is ruthless, Wu Yang has hatred, and he only seeks Guihong's words. The skills of Qingtian and the bones of the feudal princes were all sent to the east by the angry waves. I asked Yidi, if the jackdaws defeated the willows, did I blame others?
[Resent to the spring breeze]
The smoke from Yujing willows. It’s hard to miss lovesickness. The cry marks in the dream are only known by the sleeves. Hateful and weak, not worthy of Luo Yi. ○It’s too late to wake up from the lingering wine in an empty hall. Why ask about suffering? The spring will be judged by Iraq. At ten thousand o'clock in the morning, the flowers fly into the east wind, and they will no longer sway the empty branches.
[Two Songs of Flowers in the Rain]
Return to the dream of the clouds and waters of Shizhou. Do it out, spring cold is special. There are rhombus silk on the road, peach leaves blowing in the waves, and what plan can be achieved by beating the oar. ○ Dao Bo is lucky and the flag pavilion is drunk all night long. Who knows, the deep love of a thousand pieces of gold. An inch of transverse wave, how could the bottom of the flower have ever missed the rest of spring?
The new drunk next to Jinse. He also ordered Xu and Qian Quhui. When you enter the curtain and surround yourself with flowers, you will get crabs in the prison state, and everything will be done. ○Manly laugher, no good plans in life. The narrow road is in the old land of Lingbo. The wild crane flew low, the official frog roared angrily, and deliberately avoided each other.
[Yugezi]
The calamity flies away, and the palace leaks. The clear tears of the Bronze Immortal are like falling lead. Looking at the Central Plains, there is a mountain of hair. After a while, the flying geese suddenly disappear. ○The grass is like frost and the sand is like snow. The prismatic stone brings time. Longtou Yin, the sound gradually swallowed. A bright moon in the sky.
[Two Pieces of Drunk Yin Shang's Pieces]
I still remember whether it is Juntian, and the dream is full of peach reminders. The next year brings joy and resentment, and the phoenix builds the west wind banquet. Replace with a thousand points of worry. Furong Old Garden.
is the old days of flying low, swallows flying around the flowers a thousand times. When the spring warms up in the hall, it’s time to put on a new look.I wish the east wind does not care. The dust is full of hatred.
[Three Songs of Hu Tao Lian]
Two pairs of phoenixes are used to light lamps, and they know the spring miscellany of Yao Jing. There was a sudden fragrance in the wind. Occupy the south couch of Duanhua. ○The dust on the jade platform is semi-cold, and the golden pavilion is deeply closed under the slanting sun. Floating and thin love letters. Also write answers on red paper.
The mother-in-law was born unaware of the sorrow of spring, and the flowers and silver were scattered everywhere. Hit the oars and the palms and the wind will merge. The flute is mixed. ○The white sky is full of love for Xiao Xian, and the smoke is long in the dream. The cold and warm mood makes you timid. I am ashamed of the spring river duck.
There are thousands of acres of old mountains in my heart, and dreams surround me in the clear sky. Vegetables and bamboo shoots gather together every year. The old garden is worried about the sheep trampling. ○ I heard that there was no chicken in the public meal, and I was sipping the wine in front of the wine. Beg me Lu Jiacheng duck. Nothing is impossible to achieve.
[Feng Gufei's two songs]
Who can understand the expression between the eyebrows and the eyes, the jade fingers move slowly. The table mirror is full of smiles. It only stirs up chaos and warms the dust. ○The timid peach blossom has a short life. Arrangements are made all over the place, Cuilou Red House. It's too late to occupy Zhu Yanchun. Stealed by a wandering warbler.
The emotion of saying goodbye to Xie Niang, the return to reincarnation is slow in the dream. The material is steep and Luo Jin is full of tears. Leftover duck, fragrant and warm. ○It is said that the tail is long but the wings are short. Sales Ning used, Yu Chuangyue Pavilion. The troublesome oriole crows morning and evening. Fei Shang Chun Jian Guan.
[Siyuan people]
The remaining walls are full of colorful paintings, and the old curtains are covered with dust. The sky is long and the dreams are short, the solitary swallows in mixed nests are just like the guests thanking the family. ○ I am playing the zither and flute far away, and I am taking advantage of the remaining time to take pictures. I'm afraid that the jade flute outside the flower will be blown off in good spring, and my front sleeve will be wet.
[Two Golden Phoenix Hooks]
Gao Hong also called Qiu Lao. There are official willows, and the frost is yellow early. Make waves lightly. A new tune for harvesting grass. How much sorrow a night brings. ○The green cage and golden lock flower room is small. Very anxious, noisy moth makeup sweep. Jin Jishu arrived. The thread of resentment is red. The embroidered screen is open.
horizontal wave old style. Love sentences and secret confessions over wine. Feng Xian hugged him again. Green paper and heavy grass. Just wait for the jade letter to arrive. ○The smoke in the window is as small as agarwood. The first thing is to know the ruthlessness. The flower is red and smiles. The tear moth Bisao. Shen hates to repay him with a blue bird.
[Liangzhou Order Two Songs]
The moon is immersed in Jinbo. Separated from the palace brocade. It is clear that the ditch water is divided into the west and the east. How can we drink when we join hands in front of the flowers. ○The white title "Crazy Dancer" should be very good. Zhu Rui meets Luo Jin. Whoever has the same heart is forbidden. The red paper turned into a prophecy with tears and ink.
Don’t blame Lanqiao Drink. The drunken coral is hard to sleep on. Goose screen dream separated by the green mountains of Shu, whose cries wet the brocade at the head of the river. ○The golden toad bites the lock to know who is forbidden. The remaining leaves of the furrow are soaked in red. Qing'e shed tears because of this. The west wind thins but the east sun sinks.
[Yu Tuan'er]
Hongbian Jinzi is about the year. Very inappropriate, red light night calyx. At two o'clock in the spring mountain, everyone is lovesick and peering into the mirror. ○Xingyun met by mistake. The dream is cold, the mourning strings are lingering again. Before I arrived in front of you, I heard the sound of the river filling up, and my tears fell first.
[Three Character Orders and Four Poems]
Luan language comes early, but wakes up late from drunkenness. Flowers time. The stars are small and the temples are cloudy. Comb the rhinoceros on the back, move the phoenix pillow, and add new knowledge. ○The grass in the river is green, sending people home. See you indefinitely. Red candle back, green screen. Painting Luo Luan, gold engraved lamp, thinking hard.
Luan faces the shadow, and swallows fly together. Morning makeup. At two points on the mountain, draw a sad brow. Swallow the Xiang string, throw the Han pei, and travel east and west. ○ Tens of thousands of hates, going around the world. Yan Shu is late. With the embroidered threshold, the language of flowers and branches. Because I miss you, the mountain pillow is wet, and no one knows.
I made an appointment on the river and was late with the book. When the geese come. The remaining wine wakes up, and the small curtain hangs down. Being caught by the west wind, I was busy with my work and fighting for knowledge. ○Wushe water, bring flowers back. Every other year. The red sleeves are dark and the clouds are cyanotic. Late at night, pillow and quilt in spring, longing for lovesickness.
Flowers and butterflies dream, embroidered with mud. Old travel fun. After people disperse, the world is far away. I understand the 簰, connect the precious mirror, and think about it again. ○ empty musk powder, wash makeup pool. Let the curtain hang down. Who is more jealous? In the west window, the moon is not full.
[Nan Gezi 2]
Old hatred is broken by gold, and new love is in harmony with Baose. The hazy thoughts are pitiful. It's rare that Chun Luo's calligraphy invites me again. ○Jasper has been famous for a long time, and the red paper is painted with tears. Even if a slight disease damages Chunjiao. Could it be that the banquet was lost to the waist of Chu Gong?
The curtain rolls of the Cui Lou do not leave any fragrance, causing the locks and golden toads to hate each other. Shuxian Qinzhu arranged it for free. I always feel disappointed and cry when I listen to the song. ○Xi Hua hangs out late. According to the agreement, the east wind dream is short. The ileum is turned over and is afraid of returning in good spring, which is a sign of loss and death.
[Pour the Cup Order]
Avoid the calamity of Go, enjoy fighting with grass, and amuse Chu Yun to sink his hatred. It is doubtful to sleep while walking or sitting. The wind is tight in front of Panma Tower. ○Double curtains protect the velvet and keep the clothes stable. The jade is slender and slightly damaged by the cold spring. No one is taking care of the eyebrows, and there is still powder left behind when carrying candles.
[Yi Hanyue]
lost the green window money. The zither outside the flower bursts. Farewell to the taste of spring, I can't cry, and I will sit in shame facing the jade box. ○Jinyong gardenia night, the wind is blowing, and the hairpin is blooming sadly.The orchestra is learning to sing Yizhou, and the sound of the businessman on the side of the road is wrong.
[Red Window Listening]
I hope that the east wind will return. Floating, tender shoots are full of spring. The dance clothes rush up to the beautiful scenery, and I am very worried about the lack of reason. ○Handorilandang joins hands. Who can press the old score of Yiliang and subtract words secretly? It's better to push the wine and avoid it.
[思gui乐]
Spring comes with double waves and pink slip. Smoke partitions, Zhu Langmei Xiu. Willows and catkins are set in the wind. Later, in the dark, I felt that the day was long and I was thin. ○It has been a long time since I wrote a letter complaining about Luan. Eyes filled with hatred and no return remain the same. Do you still remember when Xie Tang sobered up? When the swallow comes to settle its nest.
[爱儿令]
Who makes an appointment to win money behind the curtain, come and listen to Yan's murmurings. He also raised the ordinary snails to the tip of his eyebrows. ○Feng Zhu picked it up hard. The sick mood is still like a sleeping silkworm. How can I bear the spring clothes by twisting my waist in front of the wind?
[Shaking Tingqiu]
Who makes the sad sound of the flute? Accompanied by a cold quilt and hugged alone. The old home is full of smoke and moonlight, the new pavilion is full of tears, and all the sorrow is flowing. ○The lanterns are dim, the geese are flying in the high buildings, and the night is cold and frosty. It's better to go back and find a place where the mist is warm and let you dream for a while.
[Pearl Order]
The soul of spring goes around the road to the end of the world. No multiples. Suddenly blocked, screen mountain fragrance. I asked Feihua in tears, but Naifeihua said nothing. ○The leakage is exhausted and the embroidered door is opened at dusk. The strange eaves and the sound of magpies are unfounded. No evidence. Last night there were even orchids and jade insects vomiting out.
[Second Poems of Western Brocade]
The cold comes to the Xichun curtain door. It was windy for another half day. The message on the edge of plum blossoms, three flowers and two stamens, is where leisure and sorrow come from. ○Only Xishan Meiwu. But I can't push it away. I often croak and sit facing each other with my white head, asking why I was dusty.
The flowers fall in Nanyuan and people go. The cold silence clouds the flutes and drums. The marmoset wears a treasure, whoever teaches it will win the reward and pay for the leisurely wind and rain. ○It’s not that things are jealous of each other. Dirty the phoenix hook lightly. The raw antifreeze is astringent, and there are thousands of crying marks, cutting off the path of Lingbo.
[Yijianmei]
The tall buildings in the northwest look tired and horizontal. When the road is cut off, who will ask Feiqiong? The cries of green birds illuminate the small mountain screen. Step by step jade man returns, a mirror of dust is born. ○Only plum blossoms are not worldly. Dreaming of farewell to the south of the Yangtze River, tears of the journey to spring. The jade flute is flying in the cold. I complained to the east wind because it was very drifting.
[Seven Niangzi]
years old, the beauty has passed away and the lights have been put away. Singing about Weicheng and pulling up the slender willow trees. Who knows the south of the Yangtze River, spring is thin in the song. Qiu'e fights with Xingyunshou. ○The red building is separated from the rain at dusk again. Even if it is sold out, the wine will be sparse in all senses. Complaints and expectations, whether Dongfeng knows. There will always be times when you feel sad when listening to music.
[Jinzhangchun]
The screen is surrounded by mountains, and the water sinks and smoke curls up. There is no way to deal with old grudges. Liu Sanmian, Hua Yi smiled and took advantage of the red hairpin and hat. The butterfly sinks and the bee whispers. ○Pan has more autumn on his temples, but less spring on his waist. There is no such thing as a beautiful embrace. The wine waves are deep and the fragrance is old. Thousands of flowers are scattered around. Want to know.
[laughing and turning]
is like water. Concubine's thoughts. The two jade pendants of Xiang and Gao were tied. The east wind blows outside the mando flower. Wash your face without tears. May the man not cherish the flowers and become haggard. The haggard and flowery heart has no regrets.
[Breaking through the sand of Huanxi]
The cloud steps alone are rolled into green silk. No need to sing and dance to compete with new beauties. Complaining to Chun Ying, one by one. ○The pink and yellow moon disappears behind the curtain, and the blush on the face makes it photogenic. It's a pity that the silver screen joins hands, it's almost spring evening.
Two Songs of Flowers in the Backyard of Yushu]
Spring dress up again in the mirror. The swallows are at dusk and the orioles are at dusk. Returning suddenly after walking in the wild flowers, I tied a boat with incense and a bucket. ○The dust drives down the east wind. The remaining wine of spring swing. Change the mood of Chao Luan and Feng, and listen to the flute next door.
The song cloud is like a dream, and I sleep lightly. The feast comes at dawn. The red teeth are smashed to pieces, and the year is full of jealousy, and the sound of the jade flute is wonderful. ○A red bird peeks out from under the flowers in a spring window. Light makeup is better. The painting is so colorful that the skirt is so beautiful that it loses its fragrant grass.
[Eight Treasures Makeup Two Songs]
Who can advise you on the long star cup of wine? Three mountains away, dust comes and goes. On the right day of the month, all you have to do is drink in the waves and sing songs to protect them. ○Gold does not buy youth. Flying silk send, Bo Lao language. Asked where the qu chariot met, who understood the qu and the soil of Bo Lun's tomb.
The curtain blew, and the pillow was filled with roses. Looking through the jade mirror, the two moths are shallow. It is taboo to talk about lovesickness, and the belt is half as wide as Luo. ○ Jiang Lang hates him so much that he is afraid of seeing him again at the Spring Festival Gala. Chi Su Shu, Xiang Luo Jian. The chain was solved, and half of the strings on the bed were messed up.
[Qingjinzhi]
will return to the holiday to ask questions. Wherever you ask, there is no end of the world. Zigui just cries to his heart's content. The scenery is right and wrong. ○The east wind has fragrant red clusters in its eyes, and there are no dreams and white clouds flying by. The monkey and the crane should not know the heart period. Hugh list Beishan moved.
[花上月令]
The sunset is speechless and the swallows return to sorrow. There are also dim lights and small curtain hooks. There is half a roll of golden furnace ashes beside me, and the night fragrance remains. The sky is far away and the moon is shy. ○ I plan to call Gillian to Xiaoyin. It will last for ten years and I will rest in my dream. Who can tell me that my eyebrows are shallow and half-marked by autumn. Because I am thin in spring, I am afraid of climbing stairs.
[Jiang Yue Huang Zhongshan]
Choose a dream to spread Chu mat diagonally, test the spring and play Fujian tea leisurely. Flat sand and wild horses are covered by a short screen. At the bottom of the horizontal wave, the little water chestnut flower is ashamed. ○The palindrome of the Jianguan is reciprocated, and the word "Langgan" is slanted horizontally. The new voice is heavy and v. pipa. The intention of supporting and supporting is not for Mo Chou's family.
