Year: Song Author: Su Ling
Poetry: Blowing a hat catches cold.
From: "Three Songs of the First Battle"
Author: Su Su
Year: Song Dynasty
Jujube is full of stars, and Mabel Miao has a good end.
What a beautiful basket! My hat is cold.
A monk who muddies the water, an official who teaches yam.
Poetry has not been progressing well recently, Andrew.
Jiang Lin Lu Xian Qian Yi
The golden lock closes the door and the garden is quiet, but the window is sad in autumn. When Cui Hua went away, he disappeared, and the song of Lou Yu blew, and his voice was broken with the wind.
I don't know the personnel changes in the foggy month, but the deep palace still shines at midnight. The lotus looked at each other in the wild pond, secretly hurting the country and dying, and crying red.
This is the first word that comes to mind after seeing the problem. The misty moon is still old, and the personnel are no longer the same. The end of a dynasty, obviously full of desolation and hopelessness, can't hide the broken and sad beauty.
Li He, tomb of Su Xiaoxiao
Dewdrops on orchids in the cemetery are like her sad tears.
There is no knot in the knot, and the flowers in the cemetery are even worse.
The grass is like a mat, and the pine tree is like her car cover.
The breeze is her clothes, and Jasper is her Yu Pei.
The oil-wall car used before death should be waiting around at night.
Wildfire Wildfire green, courtesy, lightning.
She walked, under the Xiling, only the wind and rain, whistling.