Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Wu Wenying
Original text:
Canhan deceives sick wine and covers agarwood embroidery households. Yan came late and flew into Xicheng, as if to say that spring came late. Painting boat, clear sky, clear smoke, Ran Ran martial arts tree. Thinking about love, drifting with the wind, turned into a faint whisper.
Ten years in the West Lake, willows tied to horses, and the dust is soft and foggy. Looking back at red, she gradually moved into Xianxi. Brocade secretly sends you a secret message, leaning against the silver screen, in the spring dream, breaking red and wet, singing and dancing. When the bank is empty, the gulls will always be returned at sunset.
Orchids are ancient, Du Ruo is still alive, and the water town is still a tourist attraction. Later, I didn't visit, and the Sixth Bridge didn't believe me. I went to the Flower Committee and was buried in jade. After several storms. Long wave envy, mountain shame, fishing lights reflecting the river. I remember that at that time, the short peach roots crossed, and the brothel seemed to be like a poem, and the tears were bleak. Looking at the dangerous pavilion, grass is all over the world, and sighing temples invade half bamboo. Dark spots stop, I like saliva and leave marks, I am still worried, I lose the phoenix, and I have no intention to dance. Diligent in being written, long books hate, blue sky and sea drown geese. Acacia, trembling into mourning. Sad, thousands of miles south of the Yangtze River, complaining songs, is it broken?
translate
The residual cold in late spring seems to bully me into drinking too much wine, which makes me feel cold and uncomfortable. I lit a heavy incense burner and closed the gorgeous windows of Daphne.
The late swallow flew into the west, as if to tell that the spring scenery had faded.
The original boat carries drinkers and tourists around the West Lake, and the prosperity of the Qingming Festival has passed. Looking at the black smoke around the trees in Wuting Palace, I feel a thousand strands of nostalgia for Qian Qian, just like floating in the wind, turning into catkins and floating lightly.
I have lived in the West Lake for ten years, and the willows are tied to horses, and the incense and dust follow.
Along the bank of safflower, I gradually entered a fairyland-like place. You asked the waiter to secretly send a love letter and confide in you.
In the depths of the warm and quiet screen, there used to be a lot of joy and entertainment, but it's a pity that spring is long and dreams are short, and happy time is short.
You are mixed with red tears, and you have already wet the clothes embroidered by fans and money. The banks of the West Lake are dark and empty, and the beautiful scenery of the West Lake at sunset is all given to those seagulls.
Orchids are old in the blink of an eye, and new Du Ruo is fragrant. I wander in this strange water town.
After leaving, I also went to Liuqiao's hometown, but I never got any information about beautiful women. The past is like smoke, the spring flowers wither, and the fragrant flowers and beautiful jade are buried mercilessly.
You were born with such beautiful, clear and transparent water waves, but you should envy your bright eyes. The lush distant mountains should be shy so as not to see your curved eyebrows.
There are little fishing lights on the river, and I live in a painting boat with you. The scene of farewell at the ferry is still vivid.
The makeup building where you lived is still the same as before. When we parted, I wrote a sentence on the broken wall. The ink with tears has been covered with dust, and the handwriting has become dim and blurred.
Climb up the high pavilion and watch intently, only to see a wall of grass reaching out to the horizon, sighing that my half is as white as a bamboo pole.
I rummaged through my old things silently.
On the silk handkerchief you left behind, there are tears and incense when you left, which is a record of past joys and sorrows.
Like a lonely phoenix, I lost my wings and forgot to go home. I am like a lonely phoenix, too lazy to fly or dance.
I want to write a long love letter full of sadness and hatred, but when I see the figure of a sunken swan in the blue sky and sea, who will convey my love for me?
I can only pin the pain of lovesickness on the string column of the mourning Zheng and pop up alone full of sadness. Thousands of miles south of the Yangtze River make me sad everywhere. Is your soul close at hand? Can you hear my sad words?
To annotate ...
Ill wine: drinking too much and feeling unwell.
Aquilaria Resinatum: Daphne. Ten days of spices.
Wugong: refers to the imperial palace in the Southern Song Dynasty. Lin 'an once belonged to Wu, so it is a cloud.
Affection: refers to feelings floating in the wind.
Chen Jiao Soft Fog: It depicts the lively scene of the West Lake.
Go back: go upstream.
Entering Xianxi: The story of Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao entering Tiantai Mountain and meeting a fairy. This refers to the place where women live.