Bloom, who is dying in the world, is eager to make a big fuss, adding branches and leaves, and finishing in late spring. Why not spit incense later?
Ling Bo leans against the jade platform, and she plays with water. There is no need to drink noodles, blushing is two kinds of feelings.
Thousands of nuclei are one root, and the jade skin and ice muscles are two waves.
Lotus flowers are brighter than those in Qing Ye, and they are colorful cymbals.
It's good to visit fairy tales, and Yu Yuqiong is in love at night. Clear. Nalanxingde in Conghua Yonglian
Yu Pei's clothes are on. She is relatively red. The lotus root wind sends Ling Bo, bowing his head to speak softly. An affectionate and bitter heart returns to the pulse of the sunset.
The color is fragrant, and the moon is small. Peach roots and leaves are always together, accompanied by diligent two-bedroom mandarin ducks. Rice floats, Shen Yun is dark, I send Xiaoxiang and dreams.
Translation:
It seems that Bingdilian has just finished dancing with the beauties in Yu Pei. They look at each other and dress up separately. A breeze blew, and they lowered their heads again, as if they were discussing something softly. They have the same sadness and yearning, giving up their feelings and facing the sunset.
The delicate color of flowers has faded, but the fragrance is more intense. Under the silver moonlight, the frozen lotus in the pond is as dependent as a peach root and a peach leaf sister, accompanying the mandarin ducks living in the two places. The remaining rice is floating in the water, and the dark clouds are getting thicker and thicker. They feel the same way about a person.