Some beautiful poems:
1. "Butterflies in Love with Flowers"
Song Dynasty Yan Jidao
Dreaming of Yanshui Road in the south of the Yangtze River, walking As far as the south of the Yangtze River, I will not meet anyone who is away from me.
There is nothing to say when you sleep in ecstasy, and when you wake up, you feel melancholy.
If you try to exhaust this love letter, it will be like a wild goose and a sinking fish, and in the end there will be no evidence.
But relying on the slow string song to say goodbye, the broken heart moves the Qin Zheng pillar.
2. "Looking for the Seclusion of a Taoist in Changshan, Nanxi"
Liu Changqing of the Tang Dynasty
Everywhere along the way, traces of footsteps can be seen on the berry moss.
The white clouds are still in the sky, and the spring grass is closing the door.
Look at the color of the pine trees after the rain, and follow the mountains to the water source.
The flowers in the stream and the feeling of Zen are inseparable from each other.
3. "Huanxisha·Momo Qinghan goes up to the small building"
Song Dynasty Qinguan
Mo Mo Qinghan goes up to the small building, like a rogue in the early morning, like a poor autumn . Light smoke and flowing water paint a quiet screen.
The flying flowers are as light as dreams, and the boundless rain is as thin as sorrow. Small silver hooks hang on the treasure curtain.
4. "Que Ti"
Liu Shenxu of the Tang Dynasty
The road ends with white clouds, and the spring and green streams grow.
From time to time, fallen flowers arrive, and the fragrance of flowing water can be smelled from afar.
Xianmen faces the mountain road, and is in the deep willow reading hall.
Every day, the bright light shines on your clothes.
5. "Poppy Spring Sorrow"
Song Dynasty·Chen Liang
The east wind blows with light clouds, sending Xiaoxiao rain every now and then.
The swallows have just returned from the pavilion by the water, and a mouthful of fragrant mud brings the falling flowers to fly.
The path of begonia grits is paved with fragrant embroidery, still thin in spring.
At dusk the willows and crows crow in the courtyard, and I remember the man and the moon folding the pear blossoms.
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