Only hate becomes boring. Fifth, it is still in the morning. The withered poplar leaves are difficult to finish, and the cold rain and wind hit the bridge.
Nan Xiangzi wrote an inscription for his dead wife.
Tears are silent, only regret to get rid of fickle feelings, and rely on the painter to keep knowledge. Yingying. You can't draw it if you are sad.
Don't be too specific Wake up early in the middle of the night. Qing wakes up early and dreams more. Call the rain bell at night.
Reflections on the anniversary of the death of the female deceased in Golden Melody
When was this hatred? Lost step, cold rain rest, buried flowers. I had a long dream for three years. I think I woke up. Material also has feelings, and the world is tasteless. Not as cold and lonely as the dust on the night platform. The card issuer made a promise, but then abandoned it.
If there are Pisces in Chongquan. It is good to know him, who he has been suffering from, and who he is relying on. I turned around from midnight, and I endured listening to Xiang Xian's excuse. When it's over, he'll know himself. I'm afraid it's unlucky for both of them, and they're going to live in the wind and sleep outdoors again. Clear tears, confetti.
Mao Yi, the son of Su Shi Jiangcheng, recorded dreams on the 20th day of the first month.
Ten years of life and death are two boundless. Never think, never forget. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.
When night came, my dream suddenly came home. Xiao Xuan window, get dressed. Care for each other without words, only tears thousands of lines are expected to break the heart, and the moon and night are short and loose.