The audience is like a mountain lost between them, and the world moves back and forth with her movements.
As bright as a shot of nine days, as swift as a dragon on the front wing of an angel;
She began to be like a thunderbolt, venting its anger and ending the shining calm like rivers and seas.
But those red lips and pearl sleeves disappeared, and no one except this student smelled of her fame.
This beautiful woman from Linying, White God Town, still dances and sings happily.
When we answer each other's questions, we sigh together and feel sad for the changes that have taken place.
There are 8,000 ladies-in-waiting in the harem, but none of them can dance short sword like Mrs. Sun.
Fifty years later, the royal family fainted in the dusty cave with a flick of a finger.
The musicians in the pear orchard floated by like fog, and now one or two female musicians are trying to fascinate the cold sun.
The golden millet piled nanmu has been arched, and the grass in Qutang Shicheng is bleak.
The song has been sung, the slow-string allegro has stopped, the joy is in full swing, the moon in the east rises, and the sadness follows.
And I, a poor old man, don't know where to go. I must sharpen my feet towards illness and despair on a lonely mountain.
Dance back to tea and sing sad songs.
The lights in the hall are bright and the seats are beautiful.
Lotus picking dance
Gong Rui Yuen Long. Listen to Juntiandi's music and know him several times. Struggle like a human being, picking a new biography of lotus. The waist of the willow is light, and the tongue of the warbler is squeaky. Who is bound by the smoke of freedom? Helpless, the shift has been urged. But driving in Cai Feng, Furong expected. May I accompany you to this party every year?