Year:? Song? Author:? bai yuchan
The East Emperor cut his belly, embroidered his intestines and made his heart fragrant.
The crimson capital is rainy and windy, and the flower soul has no owner and no soul.
At the beginning, the oriole calls the willow to open its eyes, and the branches of begonia are warm in spring smoke.
A little red, the wall is red, and the cheeks are smiling.
After Dongyuan left, the flower lost its owner, and Chungong was too lazy to use the loom.
In front of the pavilion, I suddenly met Brewmaster's poems, and the flowers also spit out some dragon saliva.
The wind urges the rain, the flowers are hard to distinguish, and the fragrance in the court is rotten.
Peony is eager to spit out sparks and will be beautifully covered with moss and felt.
Poem crazy dream and flower god drink, drunk but not sleep with flower god.
Stopping drinking reminds me of Dongyuan, although the flowers and trees are sad.
This poem is not for flowers. I am very disappointed with this gully in Dongyuan.
Now no one looks at the flowers, and bees and butterflies fly to the pavilion.
He xinlang's unfinished poem: fu fu.
Year:? Modern? Author:? ear of millet
Candle shadows are swaying.
Remember to come at night and help your head wake up. Spring is a bill.
When new charcoal was added to the stove, the spark suddenly ignited.
Hook, the melancholy in the years.
A little lovesickness is endless, and when I wake up, I fall into the sky.
Who leans against the fence for me?
The sun is rising in the morning.
Reflecting the morning light, red clouds, fish scales and small waves.
Ten thousand blue stars are nowhere to be found, and they are very idle.
Just one piece, the spring is suddenly leaking.
Hundreds of new warblers are outside the forest, the wind is moving and the heart is ringing.
You drink, I sing in a low voice.