It’s hard to say goodbye when we meet, the east wind is powerless and the flowers are withered.
Spring silkworms will not run out of silk until they are dead, and wax torches will turn to ashes before their tears dry up.
When you look into the mirror at dawn, you are worried about the clouds on your temples. When you sing at night, you should feel the cold moonlight.
There is not much way to get to Pengshan, and the blue bird is diligent in visiting.
Phoenix tail incense is a few layers thin, and the green dome is cracked late at night.
Shan Cai Yue is so embarrassed that he can’t hide his shame, and the car is driving and the sound of thunder can’t make sense.
It used to be lonely, golden embers dark, no news, pomegranate red.
The spots are only tied to the weeping poplar bank, where can we wait for good winds in the southwest?
The heavy curtains are deep in the Mochou Hall. After lying down, the night is long and thin.
The career of a goddess is just a dream, and my sister-in-law has no husband at all.
The wind and waves don’t believe that the water chestnut branches are weak. Who can teach the moon dew that the osmanthus leaves are fragrant.
It’s useless to be longing for lovesickness, but it’s just pure madness to feel melancholy.
I came with empty words and left without a trace, the moon was setting at five o'clock upstairs.
The dream is far away and it is difficult to recall it, and the book is hastened to become ink.
The wax shines on the half cage of golden jade, and the musk smoke slightly embroiders the hibiscus.
Liu Lang already hated that Pengshan was far away, and even more so, it was ten thousand layers away from Pengshan.
A rustling east wind and drizzle came, and there was light thunder outside Furong Pond.
The golden toad gnaws at the lock to burn incense, and the jade tiger pulls the thread back to the well.
Mr. Jia peeked behind the curtain, Young Master Han, while Concubine Mi stayed on the pillow of King Wei.
In the heart of spring, don’t let flowers bloom, every inch of lovesickness and every inch of gray.
Last night the stars and the wind were on the west side of the painting building and on the east side of Guitang.
I don’t have the wings of a colorful phoenix, but I have a clear mind.
Gouchun wine is given to every other seat to warm it up, and the wax-covered lamps are red.
I listened to the drum and went to answer the official question, walking around Malantai and turning around.