The hairpin-headed phoenix
Lu You
Red hands, yellow wine, the city is full of spring scenery and willows on the palace walls;
The east wind is evil, The joy is thin,
full of sadness, a few years away from home,
wrong, wrong, wrong.
Spring is as old as ever, people are thin and empty, tears are red and the crocodile silk is transparent;
Peach blossoms fall, Xianchi Pavilion,
Although the mountain alliance is still there, the brocade book It’s hard to trust,
Mo, Mo, Mo.
In your red and greasy hands, you hold a cup filled with Huangdi wine. The city is filled with the scenery of spring, but you are already as out of reach as the green willows in the palace wall. How hateful the spring breeze is, how thin the joy is. A full glass of wine is like a glass of sadness, and my life has been very bleak in the past few years. Looking back at that time, I can only sigh: Wrong, wrong, wrong!
The beautiful spring scenery is still the same as before, but people are losing weight in vain. The tears washed away the rouge on his face and soaked the thin silk handkerchief. The peach blossoms in full spring fall on the quiet and empty pond and pavilion. The vow of eternal love is still there, but the brocade letter can no longer be delivered.
Looking back at that time, I can only sigh: Mo, Mo, Mo!