Author Yue Fei, Song Dynasty
I couldn't stop singing last night. It's already midnight. Stand up and walk around the steps alone. When people are quiet, the moon is bright outside the curtain.
Whitehead is fame. Old mountain pine and bamboo are old, which hinders the return journey. I want to talk to Yao Qin. There are few bosom friends, and no one listens to the broken string.
Buzo Yongmei
Author: Lu You
Outside the bridge, the plum blossoms are lonely, no matter what. Twilight arrival, plum blossom is helpless, exhausted, and has to withstand the wind and rain.
Plum blossoms don't want to compete for blooming, and the envy and rejection of flowers don't care. Even after autumn, when it is ground into dirt and turned into dust, plum blossoms still emit fragrance as usual.
On the Phoenix Platform, I remember playing the flute.
Author Li Qingzhao, Song Dynasty
The fragrance is cold and golden, turns red, and people don't comb their hair when they get up. Ren Baoyu hid himself and hung the curtain on it. I'm afraid I'll worry and hate it, but I don't want to say it. Thin this year, not dry wine, not sad autumn
In the Ming dynasty, I went back to Yangguan for thousands of times, and it was difficult to stay long. Watching Wuling Spring Festival Gala, the clouds lock the building, remember the green water in front of the building, remember me, and stare at me all day. Looking at this place, counting from now on, some new worries.
Meet Yan and go to the west building alone.
Author: Li Yu
Alone in the west wing, the moon is like a hook. Lonely phoenix tree deep courtyard locks clear autumn.
Cutting is still messy, which is parting from sorrow. It's not just the general taste.