Song Dynasty: Li Qingzhao
Last night, it rained suddenly and the wind blew, so I slept soundly and didn't consume wine. Ask the shutter man, Haitang is still there. You know what? You know what? It should be green, fat, red and thin.
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Although it rained thinly last night, the wind kept blowing. I slept soundly all night, but I still felt a little drunk after waking up.
So I asked the maid who was rolling blinds what was going on outside, and she only said to me, "Begonia flowers are still the same." Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? It should be lush green leaves and withered red flowers.
2, butterfly lovers, warm rain, sunny wind, first frozen.
Song Dynasty: Li Qingzhao
Warm rain, sunny wind, the beginning of breaking ice, the eyes of willow leaves and the cheeks of plum all feel the heart of spring. Who and * * *? Tears melt powder, and the buds are heavy.
At first glance, I tried to sew the shirt with gold thread. The pillow was oblique, which broke the hairpin and the phoenix. There is no good dream when you are alone and heartbroken, but you still have to cut your snuff in the middle of the night.
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Warm rain and warm wind sent away a trace of winter chill. Willow leaves are growing, plum blossoms are in full bloom, and spring is coming. This dignified young woman has also been awakened by this spring.
Without a lover, who can talk about wine and poetry with him? Tears ran down the young woman's cheeks, leaving powder on her face. The young woman tried on a coat sewn with gold thread, but her mind was not on the clothes. She leaned against the pillow mercilessly and crushed the hairpin on her head, and she didn't care.
How can she have a good dream when she is lonely and sad? Only in the middle of the night, holding snuff in my hand, thinking about my lover.
3, butterfly lovers, rain, rain, scattered on fire
Song Dynasty: Su Shi
The rain is thin and the fire is splashing. The swing in the alley is still unclear. Apricot buds are fragrant and broken. Pink and faded white rouge. ?
Bitterness is frustrated by emotion. Sick and tired, as muddy as a year. Around the cloister, sitting alone. Moon cage cloud dark heavy door lock.
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After a peach blossom rain, it started to rain sleet. Before Tomb-Sweeping Day arrived, the swing in the community began to swing. A flower on the top of the apricot is blooming, and the reddish flower is picked and turned into a white flower, as if it had been soaked in rouge gouache.
Suffering from the pain of each other's affection, I feel depressed, as if I had spent a year. Husband and wife run all over the corridor and sit alone in the cloister. It was midnight when I locked the door in the dark.
4, Huanxisha Chao Fu Yu Han Qi
Qing Dynasty: Nalan Xingde
Rainy days are full of cold worries, which can be returned to apricot flowers. Last year, the barrel was high and light.
If you mess up the stove smoke, the sleeves will be purple and the wine will faint. Where in the world to ask affection.
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This continuous rain is like constant sadness. I vaguely remember that last year we went to the apricot garden to play, and we climbed the branches together to pick flowers, which was lightest and neatest than anyone else.
The smoke in the incense burner fills the air gently, and the sleeves turn purple in the fire. Wearing a blue shirt, his face is red and dizzy. How vast the world is, there is still no place to find and place that affection.
5, the wind is loose, listen to the wind and rain.
Song Dynasty: Wu Wenying
Listen to the wind and rain. Worried about grass and flowers. In front of the building is a dark road with a touch of willow and an inch of tenderness. In the cold spring, I was drinking wine, and I dreamed of singing warblers. ?
Xiyuan sweeps the forest pavilion every day. Still enjoying the new sunshine. The wasp frequently pounces on the Xiang Qiu rope. It has both time and delicate hands. I can't spend my honeymoon with melancholy. The secluded steps are covered with moss all night.
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Listening to the wind and rain, a person lives a clear and lonely life. Flowers buried everywhere, I am full of sadness to draft the inscription of buried flowers. The place where I said goodbye in front of the building is now a dense shade.
Every wisp of willow has tenderness. It's chilly in spring, and I'm drinking alone, trying to reunite with the beauty through my dream, but I'm awakened by Yingying's song. I send people to clean the pavilions and Woods in the West Garden every day, but I still come here to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the new sunny day.
Bees often pounce on the swings and ropes you swing on, and the fragrance you leave in your hands. How sad I am, there is always no news of your beautiful image. On the lonely and empty steps, the moss grown overnight has turned green.