1, operator, there is a person upstairs.
Song Dynasty: Cheng Gai
Alone upstairs, outside the castle peak building. Look at the sunset, but you can't see the geese flying west.
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The tall building is lonely, and from a distance, the green hills are looming in the distance. Looking at the sunset, I still can't see the geese flying to send messages.
2. Zhu Liguan
Tang Dynasty: Wang Wei
I leaned alone in the dense bamboo, playing the piano and humming a song.
It's too light for anyone to hear, except my partner, Mingyue.
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Sitting alone in a quiet bamboo forest, sometimes playing the piano and sometimes whistling.
Who knows I'm here in the jungle? Only a bright moon accompanied me quietly.
3. After a brief encounter, I have nothing to say and go to the West Building alone.
Five Dynasties: 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. (Generally, one work: once)
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Silent and lonely, I slowly boarded the empty west building alone. Looking up at the sky, there is only one bend in Leng Yue. Looking down, I saw the lonely plane tree in the yard, and the deep courtyard was shrouded in cold and desolate autumn colors.
It's the pain of national subjugation, and it's been cut all the time. That long sadness is entangled in my heart, but it is another kind of unspeakable pain.
4. How deep are the flowers and the courtyard?
Song Dynasty: Ouyang Xiu
In the courtyard, deep willows pile up smoke, and the curtains are not counted. Jade music carving saddle tour smelting place, the building is not high, look at Zhangtai Road.
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The courtyard is deep. How deep is it? Willow Yiyi, flying with patches of smoke, a curtain with many layers. Luxurious chariots and horses are parked in the place where aristocratic childe plays. She went upstairs and looked into the distance, but she couldn't see the way to Zhangtai.
5, Huanxisha, who reads the west wind alone?
Qing Dynasty: Nalan Xingde
Who reads the west wind alone, rustling yellow leaves and closing the window, reminiscing about the past and setting the sun.
It was unusual at that time to get drunk in spring and gamble on books and pour tea.
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The autumn wind blows cold, who misses that lonely feeling? Watching the yellow leaves dancing to cover the window, standing in the sunset, recalling the past.
Take a nap after drinking, the spring is suddenly leaking, the boudoir is gambling, and the skirt is scented with tea. The past is normal and I can't get what I want.