When the calyx was first planted in front of the building, the beauty was fighting over her waist upstairs.
The beauty sighs that her beauty has withered, and she collects the broken branches with emotion. The beauty played the piano and composed the music, and the music was intermittent among the pines.
Having just returned from the brothel, the beauty is as beautiful as a golden statue.
The clear water is vast and the clouds are vast, and the beauty is heartbroken.
When the imperial court has nothing to do, it is happy to have a swallow, and the beautiful lady is in charge of Jiutian.
The beauty holds her head against the fragrant tree, her jade-faced pavilion and the flowers are twinned.
I refuse to ascend to the hall at the beginning, but the beauty supports me on the golden steps.
The beauty is sleepless and pities the eternal night, and dances with flowers and shadows.
Linghua blooms around the curtain, and the beauty looks at her clothes in the mirror.
The white snow cannot sing loudly, and the beauty of the southern country is sad.
In ancient times, men with lofty ideals have mourned each other, and beauties and birds have also sighed.
The beauty returns to the sky in all directions, and the sun shines in the snow-capped mountains and ice valleys.
Beautiful women miss each other across the sky, looking at the clouds that cannot be crossed.
The beauty comes and goes, the river is warm in spring, and there is no one at the head of the river. The Xiangshui is full.
The beauty is drunkenly chatting in the smoke in the garden, the late bloom has dispersed and the butterflies have faded.
The beauty is lazy and sad, and the spring shuttle is throwing the high-rise building.
The strong soldiers are half dead in front of the army, but the beauties are still singing and dancing under the tent.
. . . .