Lower your head to the table, raise your sleeves to brush the flowers yellow, send the candles back to the shadows, and pass on the fragrance in your skirts. We stayed, dressed as dragons.
Floating back to the light snow, smiling and sending Youlong a surprise. The weeping willows are weak, and the clouds are long.
Dance back to tea and sing sad songs. The lights in the hall are bright and the seats are beautiful.
The shoes are fragrant and scattered, the shirts are ringing and scattered, and the low hairpin is promoted, and people are winding strings.
According to the song, I moved to a weak step, and I put on a new makeup next to the candle. Xu Lai turned over the festival and went to the wrong place.
The charming soul of autumn water,
Semioratorios are like floating shadows.
The sleeves are broken with frost,
Luo's skirt swept away a faint fragrance.
The other side of Manzhu attracted three students.
Bodhi is not a tree that can stir up dust.
Like leaves, like the wind, it is difficult to blow snow.
The most ruthless and moving.
The most is the gentleness of that bow.
Like a lotus flower, I am too ashamed to enjoy the cold.
In a word, in a word.
There is Sweet Sorrow in the Treasure —— Shayang Nala by Xu Zhimo