The Master of Flowers and Moon steps into "Spring River with Flowers and Moonlight Night", and the series of poems in full rhyme include: "The Poor Song of the Poor Scholar", "Ode to the Green Lotus under the Moon", "The Starry Moonlight Night in the Qionglu", "Ode to the Swordsman's Prose", "The Main Song of Yangyizhai", "Song of the Donkey Walking Around the World", "Walking on Yuzhen Mountain", "Ode to the Ringing Bell Park".
In addition, "Xinghai Flowers and Trees" belongs to both the Chunjiang style and the Huayue style. Living in a shabby alley, the road is uneven, and life has been full of ups and downs. Wild vegetables are cooked in the stove, and the beams of the dangerous room are filled with the moonlight.
I once looked for Eden in my dream, and it was windy, frosty, and snowy outdoors. A young man's ambitions are like flying in the air, but they are scattered like smoke and disappear.
The desolate courtyard gathers dust and waits for the moon to rise in the sky. A poor man eats chrysanthemums and sings in the years. He is ashamed to see others in single clothes and worn shoes.
What’s the point of clinging to a pure heart when you are in a desperate situation? It is very similar to the refugees. They are crazy and drunk, laughing at idiots, and looking for pleasure and talking about sex in a gloomy way.
Life is like a dream and the sky is long, and the flowers are full of tears and are always sad. The pen and ink and elixir calligraphy imitate the master's style, and the poetic and picturesque style sings about tall buildings.
The mat is wandering alone, and the slanting moon and the lone star shine on the desk. Several times, the smoke from the kitchen is blown away by the wind, and whose guests bring their friends.
The poor and downcast people heard about each other, holding candles and swords to serve their friends. Where will the black hair be half-fallen, only the red powder will deviate from the text.
The frosty scenery on the cold window adds to the beauty, how can it feel like home when the curtains are as ice-like? There is no way to make a living by writing, but who appreciates the solitary fragrance?
Half a lifetime has drifted like sea fog, and the mountains are stacked with obstacles, making it difficult to travel. Where to go when life is in ruins? There are no monuments in the deserted tombs and ancient trees. The lotus breeze and the purple road are flat, and the pond is flat. I pick flowers and pick celery by chance. In the depths of the lotus flowers, in the cold dawn, the lotus boat floats and the moon shines brightly.
The heart of the piano refers to the cold song and the fragrant land, and the flowers bloom in the cold frost like drifting raindrops. The misty smoke traces the swallow feathers flying, and the exquisite cloud shadows seem to have been seen before.
The fragrance of lotus is like orchid dust, and the scholar lifts the candle and reincarnates again. I am crazy about the lotus and look at the moon. I am lightly drunk and sing wildly about the flower moon.
When does Diao Chan go fishing? A sinking fish is similar to a falling geese. Red and smoky green are beautiful women, and the soft lotus covers the flowing water.
The swordsman of Xidong is drunk, and the mediocre talents are scattered and sad. There are many farmers at the foot of Qinggan Peak, looking for fragrance in the lotus and getting drunk in the ink building.
The beacon smoke wanders around, and the Laughing Buddha sits on the lotus platform in meditation. The moon sets in Hanshan and people don't leave. The wind shakes the green willows and the sound of flutes comes.
Have you ever heard the moonlight in the lotus pond? The disciples of the Emperor asked the Lord of Chu. The lights are dim, the wine is drunk, the stars are twinkling and the Dutch are chanted.
The orchid boat is full of lotus flowers, and the wanderer will not return home after breaking his knife. There are endless poems and picturesque scenery, and I can appreciate the wind in the lotus and the moon setting in the west.
The Internet is deep and foggy, and the road is full of green lotus fragrance under the moon. I can't bear to go back when I'm surfing at a good time, so I want to go to the Toad Palace to pick up the laurel tree. On the peach moon of Dinghai, literary friends in Gongzhuling City held a donkey chanting pen meeting, where calligraphers, painters, and literati gathered together. We agreed to copy freehand donkey poems and donkey paintings with donkeys as the title, and sing joyfully about donkeys. I also walked along the Spring River and sang a poem on a moonlit night, expressing my excitement and expressing my feelings to help with literary affairs.
Wenyuan said that the donkey celebrates peace, and the donkey's poems and paintings are perfect for sketching. In the poem "The Donkey Walks the World", the painted ink marks of the donkey are clear.
Donkeys roam the meadow in autumn, and boys lead donkeys to welcome the frost. The donkey walks off the mountain and the geese fly sideways. The wind blows the grass and the donkey suddenly appears.
The scholar sat on a donkey and walked around Huchen. The donkey stopped at the lakeside to see off the boat. Buy a donkey and return to the province in the spring peach moon. The incense of donkey meat is also intoxicating.
The sound of donkeys croaking in the alleys and stranger songs has been heard, and the sounds of donkeys roaring in mountains and rivers are similar. Who are the donkey traders in ancient and modern times? Qu Zhi painted a donkey and asked about running water.
The donkeys in Sichuan are full of charm, but the donkeys in Guizhou are always sad because they are poor. Whose family is there without a donkey? Riding on a donkey and asking for a sentence passed the teahouse.
Zhang Guo was wandering on a donkey, and Fanti led the donkey into the palace. The donkey carries the sun and the moon to go with the immortals, and the donkey follows the five mountains to cross the bridge.
I have heard of shadow puppetry and donkey play, where donkey hide gelatin moisturizes and makes the skin fine. Donkeys are not stupid, they work hard, and their nature is sweet, gentle and elegant.
The attentive donkey looks at the window flowers, and the donkey grinds in the farmhouse. There are countless things to say about donkeys over the ages. Donkeys endure cold and heat and the moonlight slants.
The donkey walks proudly through the fog, its tracks are mottled on Baqiao Road. The wandering donkey boat can't bear to return, the donkey's shadow vaguely turns to the clouds and trees. Wenxuan chants and looks at the clouds, full of interesting things. The swordsman meditates on the calligraphy, hanging a needle and holding a candle in hope of dawn.
Riding on the Ouhai Sea in search of Yudian, the fragrant notes and elegant poetry flow. There are cloud shadows, gulls and herons flying at the head of the cave, and Wenling Mountain is full of fragrance.
Jiang Xin is intoxicated and sings about the world of mortals, while Pengcheng borrows the ice wheel by writing. The peerless Xishi looks at the moon in the sky, waiting for the beautiful woman by the Huating Lake.
The Qingge is so graceful and full of love, how does the Swiss Qingjia look like it? How many poets are there in ancient and modern times? The poet's heroic talk about autumn water.
The parallel prose is beautiful and rhyming, and the purple clouds on Hangzhou Bridge Island are sad. The plums and fruits in the tea mountain make me think of a wanderer, and the painting building stands in the sky on Changyu.
Tang Jiali’s female dancer wanders around, blog book town Yin Feng Terrace. A hundred years of movie stars have come and gone, and a thousand games of chess have come and gone.
The Shenzhou went straight up to Guanghan and heard about it. He wrote elegant poems and sent them to Zhangjun. Chant the Spring and Autumn Period in my dream, and read the golden and jade articles in the book.
The clouds are floating like cotton, and the drunk faces are obsessed with visiting everyone. Jin Yong's literary talent is hard to describe, while Liu Jitao's literary talents are skewed.
Life is full of dangers and fog, and there is no limit to the road ahead when spring comes. Tea, wine, poetry and books couldn't bear to go back, so he visited Huangguoshu again next year. Zhao Fangping, the master of Yangyi Zhai, is a scholar with a handsome appearance and a white hair. He once lived in Yanbo, Sichuan Province, and wrote to serve in the army to reflect Xia Ming.
The mountains and waters embrace the meadows, and the poems and lyrics are romantic and inky. As spring goes and autumn comes, wild geese fly, and the scenery of Chengdu is vaguely visible.
The scenic spots on the plateau are walking in the dust, and the Xiajiang River is nostalgic for the ancient times. Love has fallen in love with Heluo for eternity, and the writing is like a dragon and a snake.
The poems about flowing water in Xiaoxiang are similar to those in Jianghan and Han Dynasties. Visit the immortals in Wuyi Wonderland, and chant the lake water by the Kunming Lake.
The confused cloud shadows are long in the sky, and there is no sorrow in the ambition. Unfolding the scrolls, Tan is thinking of the scholars, holding candles and chanting Oh Five Phoenix Tower.
Wander around leisurely and enjoy the big stage of life. If you send a message to a good friend, the reply should be made into a brocade poem.
The fraternity and humility are heard by everyone, and the tolerance and kindness are better than Lan Jun. The country of Furong is full of youth, and the collection of Lingshuang is full of gold and jade.
The crazy woman skillfully painted peonies and sent a message to the old calligrapher. We gather together in Beijing and think endlessly, the sea of ??literature bows to the boat and the shadow of the sails slants.
Watch the sea fog at the beautiful pines in Jinjie, and explore the long and narrow road. I have forgotten to return to my hometown of poetry, and the ivy still surrounds the trees in Hanyang. Among the jade peaks, the scenery is uneven, with pines, bamboos, stones and grass growing side by side. The winding path explores the secluded forest gully, and the clear light dances with the rhythm of wild flowers.
The great show of Chengtian was lying in Fangdian, and the palace palace was full of rainbow sleet. Butterflies are flying by the bridge, and partridges are frequently seen behind the hall.
There is no mundane world in Yunchu Temple, and the Kongming Immortal controls the wind wheel. The jade casing sinks and the years increase, and he collects medicine and refines elixirs to become a Taoist.
Each generation has been searching for immortals, and poets have expressed similar sentiments. The dust on the Yao stairs is soft and pedestrian, and the flowers in the stone stream are bathed in running water.
The sound of cicadas is long and lingering, and the suddenness of cicadas makes ghosts feel sad. The ancient ancestral hall dreamed of Fuyaozi, and the Baihua Pavilion competed with the Number One Scholar Tower.
The pine wind and cloud shadows linger, and the feather clothes change into the Nine Immortals Terrace. I went to Zixiao Cave to say Zen, but my Taoist friend crossed the crane and did not return.
I occasionally hear the music of the flute and flute, and the white deer and green ox look at Laojun. The lotus is exquisite, fragrant and dark, and Jin Gong's elegant poems are written.
I am fascinated by Jiugao and chase the falling flowers. I am stationed in Liushi and do not miss my home. There are endless poems and poems about Xiajiang River, and the scenery of the covered box is secluded.
The purple mist flew to Kuanglu and pointed out the suspected road to heaven. Looking across the peaks and mountains, I have forgotten to return, and the haze is misty against the clouds and trees. The winding paths and corridors are flat, with lush forests, flowers, stones and grasses. Green screens cover the park, and the weeping willows reflect brightly in the mist.
Dongjun traveled around Fangdian, and the flower beds were beautiful and rainbow-colored. Enjoy the sight of swallows flying by the lake, and see them in red makeup in front of Qipin Pavilion.
The sound of Sanskrit music washes away the worldly dust, and the swans sing on the water and meet the wheels of the boat. Climbing the hill, I suddenly saw the moon, overlooking the lonely pavilion and the people strolling there.
The fantasy world lingers endlessly, and the butterflies linger in the heart. The chirping of birds is the most pleasant, and the stream is separated by flower embankments and grassy slopes.
The stone inscriptions have long meanings, and the bells and scenery carry the sorrow of spring. The long rope of the swing swings the child, and the shadow of the tall building is looked at by the railing window.
Jinse and chords dance around, Shiji Qingli sits on the fishing platform. The spring flowers and autumn moonscape are gone, and the rain and wind from the south, cloud and north come again.
How can I hear it no matter where the ridge is? I will move the mountains in my dreams to praise Ejun. The beautiful scenery of immortals is often wasted, and the joys of the mortal world are half-written.
Shipengya gathered drunkenly and chanted flowers, and Hanzao was a lyrical painter. The flowers bloom and fade, and the fragrance is inexhaustible. The grass is green and the shadows of the yellow bridge are slanted.
The red wall is covered with pearls and emeralds, covered with clouds and mist, and the wind and rain road is connected with nine twists and turns. I traveled all over Fang Yuan and didn’t want to go back. The temples were exquisite and covered with ancient trees.