I'm willing to ride the wind to the sky, I'm afraid I can't stand the cold for nine days in a pavilion of fine jade.
What's more, he is a few degrees east wind and flying flowers.
Free flying flowers are as light as dreams, endless silk rain is as thin as sorrow, and small silver hooks hang curtains.
Swallows in front of the old church fly with misty rain. When people are old, spring grows well and dreams are good.
Nobody can solve it, because the wind flies over the roses.
Sad fragments are flying, and no one cares, let alone persuade Yinger to stop.
I'm afraid I'll leave an autumn. Only the pond is green.
Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing.
Don't let the jade flower fall to the ground, stay in Guanghan Palace.
A day flies east wind evil, full of peach blossoms and fragrant spring water.
It's like a bird getting tired of knowing it and swinging around in a pear garden.
On the high cliff, it seems to be thousands of feet high, which makes people think that the Milky Way has fallen from heaven to earth.
Sand birds fly away in clear weather, while fishermen sing at night.
In February, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willows are drunk with spring smoke.
In front of Mount Cisse, egrets fly freely, plump mandarin fish swim happily on the river, and peaches floating on the water are so bright and full.
There are no birds flying over those mountains, and there are no traces of people in those paths.
A pillow in the south window sleeps for the first time, and butterflies fly like snow in the garden.
Pierce the butterfly deeply, and the dragonfly flies leisurely with the water.
A flower flew away, but it was spring, and the wind was so sad.
Swallows under the eaves of Wang Dao and Xie An have now flown into the homes of ordinary people.
The moon rises like a mirror, and the sea clouds twinkle like palaces.
A thousand-year-old tree is beautiful, and Chiba flies.
The rocks are leaning behind, and the flying clouds and flowing water are resting in front of them.
Yellow birds fly in the air and gather in the bushes. They sing.
Even the clouds are fighting, and birds can't get through.
Crazy songs, empty life, who is domineering?
There is so much belligerence that Dinghu Dragonfly can take advantage of it.
The birds flew without a trace, leaving the lonely clouds free and unfettered.
We are all lofty distant thoughts, longing for the sky and the bright moon.
The spring departed in wind and rain; With flying snow it’s back again.
The sky was empty, and monks in Fei Ying and Mountain Temple were frightened.
Ring the morning bell in a hurry and recite the Buddha's name to help talents.
Looking forward to Hong Fei's book, I sadly called the sunset to the sky.
Gurgling by the river, singing in the sky, thoughts flying like a pen.
Once the mountain was used to drive away tigers, and several times it was a battle of fire.
Flying to Lingyun for eight thousand miles, how many years without an opponent?
Last year, I arranged new words for you, just as the geese flew south.
The sky is full of good news, and the flags of the three armies are sung all over the world.
Where will Hengtai send Jun Jun? Hong Fei often delivers heartbreaking sentences.
Hong Fei flies into the world of mortals, and floating clouds accompany me.
Look down at the water flowing east, look up at the sky, and watch the geese fly south.