Yongmei's poems

Su Shi-Song Ding Fengbo Hongmei slept well and was never tired of being late. Self-pity ice is out of place. "Yuan Yuanhuai" is a masterpiece of enjoying red berries in spring. Last night, the east wind turned to fight, and the willow head snowed away. A tree in the morning, like countless apricots, opens on a small bridge and leads to this lonely village. It should be that the chemical industry is too thin, so the color will help the flowers. Don't distinguish between green branches and leaves, it will win the championship among thousands of flowers. Yulouchun Hongmei, Li Qingzhao and Hongsu are willing to cut Qiong Yao to pieces and explore the southern branches everywhere? I don't know how long I have borrowed it, but I see it is infinite. The Taoist priest is haggard, bored and unhappy at the bottom of the spring window. If you want to look down on it, come and rest. It may not be that there was no wind in the Ming Dynasty. Occasionally, being a little red peach apricot is elegant and elegant, and I am still lonely and thin. Don't let your leisure pass away with the development of things. What happened? Wine makes you dizzy. Poems never know Meg, chanting, but looking at the green leaves.