You said the meeting was empty talk, after we didn't see its trace; Wake up in the oblique moonlight upstairs and listen to Xiao Zhong Chuming. The dream in the wound is far from being called; When I woke up, I began to write a letter. The layering of residual jade is hazy; Musk smoked through the tulle, soft. But what I can't reach is the magic mountain. You are over there, beyond Wanfeng.
Lingluo of Pteris, thin; Never put off till tomorrow what you can, I chased it late into the night. It's too late to cover up the encounter with a fan; But you drove by, speechless. Once lonely and sleepless, I missed candles; But I haven't heard from you until the pomegranate blossoms. I will tie my horse to a willow tree by the river and stay in the southwest.
The stars were bright last night, but there was a cool breeze at midnight. Our banquet is on the side of Hualou Temple and the east of the county. Without Cai Feng's wings, it is impossible to be Qi Fei in fly with me; The heart is like a soul, and the feelings are the same. Guessing and intrigue, wine warms the heart; This group of people came to the bet of drinking friends, and a win-lose red in candlelight. Alas, it's time to call the roll in the morning when you hear the drums of the fifth watch; Riding to Lantai is like the wind in the wind.
All the above are Li Shangyin's untitled poems;
When spring comes, I wear a coat with a white lining, but I only think about the white gate city where I can't go. There are two red mansions facing the cold, covered by rain, and a pearl curtain lamp shakes my lonely heart and goes home. The long road ahead will be full of new difficulties, in the middle of the night, the interval of short dreams. Oh, I'm sending you this message, these jade earrings! I saw a lonely goose in a cloud three thousand miles away.
The above is Li Shangyin's poem "Spring Rain";
Foolishly think that "the desire for love is not just a flower, even this bright flame of love can only be ashes?" Is the most suitable question for you; There are two red mansions facing the cold, covered by rain, and a lantern on a pearl screen shakes my lonely heart to go home. Will your shy face stare at a moon-shaped fan, and will your voice silence the creaking of my carriage? . The place where your golden lamp goes out is very quiet. How far can a pomegranate flower whisper? I cried for your leaving forever. I still can't wake up. I tried to read your hasty notes, and I found the ink was too weak.
Of course, there is another poem "Seven Wounded Poems" by Cao Zhi: "If the road dust is cleared, if the cement is muddy. Many poems such as "ups and downs are different, when will we meet?" "