Jade butterfly, the palace tree was not destroyed by the rain at night.
The late rain did not destroy the palace tree, and the poor leaves were still holding cicadas. The short scenery returns to autumn, and the thoughts are connected with sorrow.
Dreams are hard to stop. People are old, windy and cold. I want to have fun. The earth is full of flowers and the insect net is dry.
For no reason. Crows stir the night, hate fans, and bitterness is close to autumn lotus. When a flute landed, Xie Niang hung tears in front of the wind.
The old garden is late, poetry and wine are strong, and the new geese are far away, without saying hello. Smoke from the sky. Chu Luoxiang Sleeve, who is with Chanjuan?
Translation:
1, the wind and rain at dusk did not destroy the palace tree, and the poor and sparse leaves still held the chill of autumn. After autumn, the sun is getting shorter and shorter during the day, and the chanting is connected with the sadness of autumn. At night, the drip began to get longer, which embarrassed my dream. People are getting older, and the beautiful scenery of Bai Yue on a clear night is full of autumn chill.
Looking back on the past tryst and love, now the walls of the courtyard are covered with moss and the railings are covered with cobwebs. Helpless, the crying crickets disturb the night, only hating my body like a fan abandoned by Autumn, and my heart like a bitter and unspeakable Hà Thu. Thinking of playing the flute on the floor, I tearfully thanked my mother for standing in front of the wind.
I haven't been back to my hometown for a long time, so I barely drink some wine to drive away my troubles. The new geese have already flown far away, and they can't send me a book to greet me. Through the boundless clouds, who is with you, sweet-sleeved beauty?
He Xinlang Qiuxiao
I am crying. There are many fish, the island is cold and steep, and the five lakes are autumn dawn. Bamboo clothes are a dream, and whoever takes the ancient road will boo.
Scratch your head and peek at the stars. There is a yellowish fence under the moon, and several small blue and white flowers for hanging morning glory. Autumn is too light, add red dates.
Sorrow marks are swept by the west wind. Pushed over by the west wind, autumn is crisp and old. The frost curtain in the old courtyard does not roll, and the gold powder screen is drunk.
There is no such thing as middle-aged martial arts. Wan Li Jiangnan oral sex hate, hate uneven white goose cross the sky. Before the smoke gathers, the mountain has dispersed.
Translation:
1, I woke up one night and listened to the crow, and then I couldn't hear the crow. On the vast lake, the steep islands are shrouded in cold, and I realize that this is the autumn dawn of Taihu Lake. Last night, under the flickering light, I had a dream about bamboo, dreaming that Ma Si was walking on an ancient road. Put on your clothes and scratch your head. Go outside and see how many stars there are.
2. At this time, the moonlight is dim, the sky is dim, and even the shadow of the bamboo fence is hard to see. Only on the bamboo fence, a few small morning glory are competing for beauty. Nature seems to think that Qiu Guang is too light, so she deliberately added some red dates. I had hoped that the west wind would take away the sadness. As a result, the west wind is as old as the bleak autumn.
3. In the past, hanging curtains in the courtyard kept out frost, drinking alcohol, and was often drunk by gold powder screen. I don't think there would have been such a sentimental middle-aged hug. Now living in the south of the Yangtze River, Wan Li, I hate that I can't live without food and clothing, so I can only play the flute and beg like a martial artist. I also hate the jagged lines of South White Goose, flying so high across the sky.