Poetic Aestheticism and Antique

Aesthetic ancient poems are as follows:

1, one flower and one world, one leaf and one pursuit. A song and a sigh, a person's life.

2. Is it true that Yue Lao and Meng Po are lovers, one holding the string and the other breaking the world of mortals?

3. Have I seen you on Huangni Road, by the forgotten river, beside Sanshengshi and Naihe Bridge?

I am eager to be collected, properly placed and carefully preserved all my life. Avoid my surprise, pain, wandering, and no branches to follow.

5, thinking about this life, the wind and smoke are fleeting, holding the world of mortals, facing the morning and evening, and setting the word as love. Two people depend on each other, like flowers, you are my only warmth, undeniable, and the bustling lips are lingering.

6, the sword is red and the dust is epilepsy, and there is wine in the sky; Wandering the stars and playing with the sun and the moon, drunk in the clouds and laughing at the world.

7. After others left Lanzhou, he was far away, bearing the burden of humiliation. Who needs * * * wine? The cold wind blows the hat, the yellow flowers are empty, and the dogwood is drunk.

8. Spring eyes are silent and pity a trickle, and the shadow depends on Shui Rou. The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head.

9. Time flies. You know, it's another autumn, and bloom is melting with the snow. My hair has changed to white head, but who knows how many times I will look back in my life.

10, I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm passionate about it. what can I do? I am as beautiful as flowers and jade, and finally I get lost, like water passing by.

1 1, spring is still the same, people go to the empty building, people go to the empty building. Tears are red; Peach blossom falls, idle pool pavilion, although the mountain alliance is there, it is difficult to hold books, mo, mo, mo!

12, Fenghua pen and ink, backyard dust. Then the sky is cloudy, not wandering. Three thousand miles of rivers and mountains have also been Penglai for forty years. Moss is stained with frost, and the mirror is full of color.