Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first.
The yellow crane never revisited earth, there have been no long white clouds for thousands of years.
Where Taoism returned, Liu Lang came again today.
Prosperity dissipates fragrant dust, and running water grows spring mercilessly.
With the silence of the diaphragm for a long time, the sound of bamboo is still like a new moon.
This year's flowers are better than last year's, but it's a pity that next year's flowers will be better. Who do you know?
Yesterday, I went to Xi, and the willow was reluctant to part. I came to Sri Lanka today, and it rained heavily.
The setting sun leans on the west wing alone, and the distant mountain is facing the curtain hook. People don't know where, but the green wave still flows eastward.
On the moonlit night in January last year, the flower market was as bright as day. Liu Weitou on the moon, people about after dusk. On the moonlit night this year, the lanterns are still there. I will never see my old friend last year again, and my tears are soaked through my clothes.
There used to be a phoenix on the phoenix platform, and the phoenix went to Taiwan, only Jiangdong returned.
Drinking wine to the east wind, and * * * calmly, hanging Luocheng East, always holding hands, traveling around the Champs.