Li Qingzhao's A Cut of Plum has the lingering fragrance of red lotus root, which makes her loose her clothes and go to Lanzhou alone. Who sent the brocade book? The word goose returns, and the moon is full of the west building. Flowers from Shui Piao to water, one kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure. There is no way to eliminate this situation, only frown and mind.
Li Qingzhao's "Sound Slow" is cold and lonely, sad and sad. It's the hardest to stop when it's warm and cold at first. Three glasses and two light wines are no match for his lateness. The geese are sad, but they are old acquaintances. Yellow flowers were piled all over the floor, withered and damaged. Who can pick them now? Looking out the window, how can you be alone? Indus is raining in Mao Mao. At dusk, it drips. This time, what a sad sentence.
Meng Haoran's Autumn Mountain to Zhang: You have found your quiet place between the north peak and the white clouds. Now I have climbed this mountain to see you, and the geese are flying high. My heart seems to be a bit sad. If it weren't for the crisp autumn wind, I would have looked at the river bank and my head was tilted. The trees on the horizon are like the moon, and the mainland by the river is like the moon. Why should you bring wine and get drunk on the Double Ninth Festival?
Fan Zhongyan's "A Fisherman's Pride" blocked the scenery of Qiu Lai, and Hengyang geese didn't pay attention to it. It's ringing in all directions. Thousands of miles, long smoke and loneliness. Wan Li drank a glass of turbid wine, but Ran Yan didn't go home. There is frost everywhere in Guanqiang. People are sleepless, and the generals are white-haired and crying.