Guess a poem

In spring, apricot blossoms blow all over the head. Who is young and romantic? I'm going to marry him and grow old together. Don't be ashamed of being mercilessly abandoned. On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the flower market is brightly lit. The moon rose to the willow tree, and he met me at dusk. On the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first month of this year, the moonlight and lights are still the same as last year. I will never see my old friend last year again, and my tears are soaked through my clothes. Visitors to the High Court have been competing to leave; The spring flowers in the small garden are dancing in the wind. The flower shadow is confused by the winding path; Overlooking the petal dance reflects the afterglow of the sunset. My heart is too small to sweep away the fallen flowers; Looking forward to spring, but returning in a hurry. Flower lovers who love flowers will naturally blame spring for leaving too early; When spring comes to an end, flowers and flowers only shed tears. Leaning against the dangerous building, the wind is fine, looking forward to spring sorrow, and the sky is dark. In the afterglow of grass and smoke, no one can rely on the meaning of silence. I plan to get drunk on the map of madness and sing songs for wine, which is strong and tasteless. I don't regret that my belt is getting wider and wider, which makes people haggard for Iraq. The setting sun under the leaves shines on the water, rolling light waves and sinking thousands of miles. The sour wind on the bridge hits the eyes. For a long time, I watched the city of lights at dusk. At the bottom of the cold window of the ancient house, listen to a few pieces, and the well is flying. Don't fall in love with single. Who knows? Write a piece of paper for Xiao Niang. Just because I think, when I look back on you, I miss your dynasty and dusk. If the moon finally comes out, I will not hesitate to be roasted by snow and ice. From then on, there is no good night, let him go down to the west wing in the bright moon. After parting again, I remembered our meeting and dreamed of being with you several times. Tonight, I look at you with a silver lamp, but I'm afraid this meeting is in my dream. Zhu's string is broken, the mirror is out of sight, and he looks at Lulu, smells fragrant, sings with white heads, and leaves sorrow. Try to eat as much as possible, don't miss my concubine and accompany you on a long trip! Strive for a lifetime and live a good life. There are more stupid children, and you should also have language. There are clouds in Wan Li, and Qian Shan snows only for whom. After a farewell, there was suspense between the two places, saying it was March and April, but who knows it will be five or six years. The lyre has no intention to play, the eight lines have no transmission, the nine-line chain has never been broken, and the ten-mile pavilion has long eyes. I thought about it in every way, but I was helpless. I could only blame Lang. 1