Year: Song Author: Zhang Yan Style: Ci
Wan Li frost, fallen petal tree, Leng Yan does not attract the admiration of spring. The Wujiang River is cold, and lonely people sing sad sentences.
The ship is in the boat, the water is isolated, like flowers, and the sunset returns home. It's desolate and desolate. I don't have feelings to bear my heart.
Chang 'an, who asked if traveling was tiring? I am ashamed to see my face decline and borrow wine, so I fell. Rely on new makeup, not into Luoyang flower spectrum.
Dancing in order to be empty, I will try my best to break through the clouds. I remember that the south of the Yangtze River is overcast and blue, listening to the dark rain in the night window.
Seven fragrant red leaves
Year: Song Author: Wang Style: Ci
The jade pestle is full of Dan, the golden knife is full of color, and the Wujiang solitary tree is dyed again. Some complain, some complain, autumn dusk.
Scared of old dreams, my hair faded, I resented new enemies, and my lips were slightly parted. The most pitiful thing is that I am wearing a new cream, and I am embroidered with a mirror at night.
Thousands of miles of forests are falling less and less, so what is the old west wind? February flowers, missed Cheshan Road.
Re-recognize and take it, the running water is barren, and there is still fear. I will send a message. But bleak, autumn garden setting sun, cold branches stay drunk.