What do you mean by "three thin books" and what are the poems?

The so-called "three thinness" means that Li Qingzhao likes to use the word "thinness" to describe the beauty of a flower and created three touching words known for thinness. That is, "new arrivals are thin", "green manure is red and thin" and "people are thinner than yellow flowers", which has a unique association and gives people an extraordinary fresh experience. In the poet's pen, "thin" has an indescribable charm! It can be said that flowers are thin and people are thin, and they feel sorry for themselves. If you have a heart of stone, you should be moved by it.

Memories of oral sex on the phoenix platform

Version 1:

The fragrance is cold and golden. When it turns red, get up and comb your hair. Ren Bao is full of dust, curtain hook. I am afraid that I will leave my arms, but I don't want to say anything. New arrivals are thin, not dry wine, not sad autumn.

Do not rest. If you go back, it's hard to stay even if you read "Yangguan" a thousand times. Read Wu Lingren, smoke locks Qin Lou. Only the running water in front of the building should remember me and stare at me all day. Looking at the place, I have added new worries since then.

Version 2:

The fragrance is cold and golden, turns red, and people don't comb their hair when they get up. Ren Baoyu hid himself and hung the curtain on it. I'm afraid I'll worry and hate it, but I don't want to say it. Thin this year, not dry wine, not sad autumn

In the Ming Dynasty, thousands of people returned to Yangguan, making it difficult to stay long. See Wuling Spring Festival Gala, Yunsuo Building. Remember the green water in front of the building, remember me and stare at me all day. Looking at this place, counting from now on, some new worries.

well

Last night, it rained suddenly and the wind blew, so I slept soundly and didn't consume wine. Ask the shutter man, Haitang is still there. You know what? You know what? It should be green, fat, red and thin.

Zui Hua Yin

Fog filled the clouds, and the days were spent in sorrow. Kapoor was among the birds in the incense burner. The festival is also a double ninth festival, and the jade pillow gauze kitchen is half cold at night.

Dongli drinks until dusk, and faint chrysanthemum fragrance overflows his sleeves. Mo Tao doesn't forget me, the curtain rolls west wind, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.