1. "The Song of the Cave Immortal: The crowns are all over the place"
Era: Song Dynasty Author: Wu Qian
The crowns are all over the place, and people were thin at that time. Jade tree and Qiongjiu persuade you to drink wine. It is a cool state, where the dew is wet and the smoke condenses, and the fragrance is heavier, which is not the combination of heavy sandalwood.
The four windows are full of flowers, vying to be like a home, and the orange crabs will look back on their fatness. Flowers are also your pity. Plants, trees, birds, and fish. There is no better place to miss than the old hometown. More westerly winds, water shields and perch want to be woodcutter and fishermen in the villa, so I have to wait for them.
2. "The Candle Shadow Shakes Red, Deeply Enchanted by Xianyuan"
Era: Song Dynasty Author: Zhang Yan
I am deeply fascinated by Xianyuan, follow the fragrance while it is fragrant All OK. The flowers across the window are warm and spring-like, and only the orioles can occupy them. The bright candle flames burnt my face. I miss my east neighbor and peek into my smiling eyes. Looking for nowhere, I secretly pick up new sounds, and the screen is tilted. There is nothing in the clouds, but Gu Qu and Zhou Lang are resentful. Looking at the flowers, I still don’t know when I will see them. Belief in immortality is shallow. As I contemplate, the wind curtain rolls back. Go out and smile, the moon sets across the river, and the peaks are far away in the sky.
3. "Gift to Lu Cikui"
Era: Song Dynasty Author: Ye Shi
I live in the deep eastern suburbs and am a poet.
The road is brocade between the ice shuttles, and the jade is broken by the piano.
The city leaks and drips at night, and the window flowers reduce the cloudiness during the day.
The white-headed sentence of Xinliang is clear and sad.
4. "I occasionally read Sima Wen Gong's poetry collection and three poems by Shao Yaofu on spring when he is old"
Era: Ming Dynasty Author: Wu Kuan
Old age People are even crazier in spring. If you don't climb Gaofu, you will reach Pinggang.
Every strange thing about forgetfulness is very shallow, and it doesn’t last long even if you sleep well and have a frightening dream.
The dust in the street is as thick as the fog, and the few flowers at the window are better than burning incense.
The long hair is trimmed early in the morning, and the bells ring to pay homage to Weiyang.
5. "A Play on Yushan"
Year: Ming Dynasty Author: Xiong Mengxiang
The blue bridge on the autumn water is one foot strong, and I worry about hearing the jade pestle pounding the mysterious frost.
The black gauze of Dongli is thin, and the beauty of Xiguo has long emerald sleeves.
The bamboo-deep Zen couch in the ancient temple is quiet, and the flowers falling from the clear window are fragrant in the inkstone pond.
The crane in the west wind carries the midnight dream, smiling at the bright flowers and getting drunk in the countryside.