Chang Ji once joined hands to crush thousands of trees, making the West Lake cold and blue.
Affectionate Looking at the center of the earth, the sky is high and wide. The cold wind is clear to the dew, and there is no place to live, which is cold and leaking.
There are thousands of pictures and curtains. Listen to it several times, where to lean on the flute and decorate the autumn scenery.
Listen to the string and break three thousand infatuations. Falling flowers, forgetting, once the wind rippled. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips.
The fate of dust has always been like water, and it is rare to shed tears. Why do you do your best? Don't be sentimental, love to hurt yourself.
Or do I love you all my life, and tears are hurting you?
Heartbroken, spoony woman, a vertical gold ring can lock thousands of blood, and a green willow head is always empty.
The birds groaned, and night came with the sound of the east wind; Falling flowers are as beautiful as green beads falling from upstairs.
Wild vines have feelings, lingering bones, and the setting sun follows the empty city?
Ah, there is love in life, and love is in the depths of madness. This is not irrelevant to hate-the wind overhead, the moon in the sky.
There are countless yellow flowers, blue sky and sunset, beautiful women, beautiful women and unknown places.
The sea of clouds is clear, the mountains and rivers are full of shadows, and the fragrant snow blows cold in Guangxi.