Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Li Qingzhao
Original text:
Looking around, lonely and sad. It's the hardest to stop breathing when it's warm and cold. Three glasses and two glasses of wine, how can you beat him? It's late in the wind. Guo Yan is very sad, but this is an old acquaintance.
Yellow flowers are piled all over the floor. Who can pick it now? Looking out the window, how can a person be dark? Indus is raining in Mao Mao, dripping at dusk. This time, what a sad sentence!
The sound is slow, the sound of autumn.
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Jie Jiang
Original text:
Huanghua deep alley, red leaves and low windows, bleak autumn sound. Bean rain, there is wind in the middle. It's twenty-five o'clock now, and it's louder when you close the door and unlock it. Old friends are far away. Ask who shook Yu Pei and rang the doorbell under the eaves.
Colorful trumpets sounded the moon setting, and gradually the horse moved and made four screams. Flashing adjacent lights, there is still anvil sound in front of the lights. I know he complained of sadness until dawn, and he mumbled and mumbled. If you haven't complained, give it to the geese half and half.
The voice is very slow. A friend presented Meilan Daphne Narcissus to the guests, saying that the four fragrances rhyme with the wind.
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Wu Wenying
Original text:
Friends presented plum, orchid, Daphne odora and narcissus as guests, saying that the four fragrances rhyme to get the word wind.
Yunshanwu, smoky and cold in Gao Jiang, life is not easy to meet. Laugh in front of the lamp, and there is spring scenery. Fang Qing fought the truth at night, attracting incense and fanning the east wind. Looking for flowers and asking for willows, decorating a golden house, troubles are commonplace.
I am haggard and arrogant, and hate jade slaves selling thin, while I fly lightly. Ask intimate, who is the most affectionate before you. Lianhu Ziyun
Slow voice
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Wang
Original text:
Ying door high bun leaning on the fan, have a graceful demeanour did not count Xizhou. Brush lightly with lead, and the spring breeze ends in February. Encountered beautiful makeup and handsome words, I have an ancient home and lived a romantic life in Beijing and Luoyang. Heartbroken sentences, want to draw crayons, and worry about leisure.
I still remember that Ling Bo wanted to go and asked him who to keep his socks for. I missed my dream and went boating in Nanpu several times. Don't bid farewell to the jade dance, for fear of starting again. Melancholy, holding the pipa, idle this autumn.
Slow down, sing osmanthus
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Wu Wenying
Original text:
In Yun Lan, there is dawn in the cage, Yushu hangs in autumn, and there are golden clouds. People start to shine, and cold powder millet is forbidden to give birth to muscles. The fragrance is nowhere to be found, and gradually Leng Xiang, the wind dew into Fei. Embroidery exhibition, afraid of falling in the air, turned into fireflies.
The thirty-sixth house was anxious to ask who was holding the golden cup and moved with the moon. Lock the west carriage and you can carry it by hand. Qiu Lai's temples are full of flowers, but his black veil and drunken relief are very low. It was shaken down, sighing for a long time, and the guest did not return.
Slow voice
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: zhangyan
Original text:
The autumn is crisp and the scenery is fantastic, as clear as a night tour in Jiang Baishi.
Sunny light turns to trees, and the orchid is divided. Who is crossing the boat in the wild? Broken willows and withered cicadas, the coolness is full of Xizhou. Holding a bouquet of flowers is hasty, ruthless and romantic. Fragrant days are short, and I can't stand the late night. I will swim by candlelight.
Who knows that sooner or later in the mountains, laughing at the white clouds, there is no sorrow in this ancient time. Distribution of chanting merchants, make Wan Li idle. Don't lean on the cold and call gulls across the water, like me. I have to wait for the moon, and many things are handed over to autumn.
Slow voice
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Chou Yuan
Original text:
The Tibetan warbler courtyard is secluded, and the floating duck pond is desolate. The shade of green does not diminish the fragrance of red. High above, empty. It's cool when the south wind blows. You have never tasted the fragrance, so you blame yourself for being young. Good leisure, old books and new wine.
I'm afraid that Wu Shuang will invade my temple and sigh for dark bronze birds in spring, leaving old Zhou Lang empty. Weak catkins are stained with mud, and now Meng Han is healthy. Looking back at the traces of the old tour, you can recognize the broken clouds and the low-level horizontal pond. I am full of hate, even the moon is small.
Slow voice
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Cao Zu
Original text:
The double eaves are towering, beautiful and spectacular, and the capital is bustling and spectacular. The mica screen is open all around, and people are in the green. From the depths of the smoke, overlooking the palace, overlooking Peng Ying. Back to the pavilion road, five flowers compete and crush the flag pavilion.
Song and wine never stop at night in Changchun. Jin Cuizhao and Luo Qi are talking and laughing. Land, sea, people and mountains meet and all countries cheer. It's always good to go aboard at four o'clock. It's sunny and sunny. Happy new year, happy old year, drunk.