Who did Wu stay for? Weeds were buried in the path of Guipo.
Butterflies are still feeling sorry for themselves, and lonely safflower is cold and tall.
Ordinary swallows can't leave, and how many clouds linger day after day.
There are clouds and rains in Wushan, and Wan Li locks China.
Wang Xiang is looking for a dream, and the goddess has no intention of carrying a balcony.
Love flowers can solve the flower language, unlike spring buds everywhere.
You don't need to pick flowers when you are affectionate, you can realize fragrance and dreams.
Jane has a good flower, which is always cool.
Those who abandon the sky are with them, and they are crazy in chaos.
Returning to the moon and smelling tears, Bibo went to Qinhuai.
The vast Yellow River water is gone forever and never returns to the sea of clouds.
Miss thousands of tender feelings, all paid to the spring breeze to destroy the west.
In the world, blue customs are taboo, and beauty is lonely and dusty.
Yesterday, my backyard was full of fragrance and charm, and I was paid around a hundred axes.
It is the hardest thing for a hero to enjoy beauty when he touches the moon.
Even if you are drunk today, you don't know the truth of your predecessors.
Who is cuter than her? However, she lives alone in an empty valley.
She told me that she came from a good family and now she is humble to the dust.
When the problem appeared in the customs area, her brother and close relatives were killed.
What's the use of them in high positions, they can't even protect their own lives? .
The world is dismissive of adversity, and hope will go out like the light of a candle.
Her husband, with a wandering heart, is looking for a new face like jade.
When the morning glory is rolled up at night, the mandarin ducks lie side by side.
All he can see is the smile of his new love, but he can't hear the cry of his old love!
The stream is pure at the source of the mountain, but its water turns dark far away from the mountain.
Wait for her maid to come back after selling pearls, and then she needs straw to build the roof.
She picked some flowers, not for her hair, but for letting pine needles fall from her fingers.
She forgot the thin silk sleeves and the cold, and leaned against a tall bamboo.
Since ancient times, beauty has been a disaster.
The hero is sad and gentle.
Men are indomitable and upright.
Beautiful women are charming and enchanting.
There are beautiful women in the north, and they are peerless and independent.
Take care of the city first, then the country.
It's best not to know the whole city and country?
Beauty is rare again!