Yan shenglei
Laugh at yourself. I haven't had a poem for a long time
When people reach middle age, everything is sad, and this body gradually feels close to the platform of spring. It is better to live a little, but it is not easy to eat three meals a day. Rotten mice also boast of peculiar smell, and donkeys boast of exotic materials. This brocade is still very good, but it needs cutting now.
To a hermit
I'm afraid of attracting suspicion, but I don't feel sorry for myself if I drag out an ignoble existence. Spring is good and dreams are short. Why not plant poplars in front of the house? Only the flowers are still in bloom, and the orchids are not forbearing. He was very sad, and he was lucky not to come back in 2008.
laugh at oneself
The interest of youth faded, and the iron horse fell into a cold dream in the autumn wind. There is a saying that there is no talent. On making friends, ask beautiful women. I always remember when I am free, but now I am only drunk. Ambition is like a dead fire, and I want to forget the difficulties every night.
He xinlang
Raindrops break my heart and tears. Disappointed life, sporadic past events, also follow the running water. The blue front in the box is red and rusty, and the shock wave is buried. Empty sigh, how to wash? Gradually, I feel that two hairs are born with sideburns, which are colder and louder. If you flatter me, you will lose your weapon. Everything in the world is difficult. Laugh at that year, be in a daze and praise your achievements. Hit the wall and save yourself. The canopy is a godsend. Taste the bitterness. Humanitarian disasters come from the mouth, but it is still unscrupulous to resist fanatics and create tongues. Home country, again and again.
Ruyanfei
The pillow is ripe. Sigh about life, why it comes too quickly and how fast it goes. I still dream that there are many young people, and the past is like a banana covering a deer. It rained all night and the west window fluttered frequently. It is said that gold needs a hundred trials and never achieves anything, so don't cry at the end of the road. It would be a blessing if I could return to Loeb. As we all know, fate will never end. However, there are thousands of books and poems, which are a mess. In koi fish, the snake swallowed the elephant, which is the most unpleasant thing. Cover your ears and let him share weal and woe. Lotus seed falling out of the flower, laughing, bitter Qian Fan. Zhuangzi, and casual books.
Less corporate life,
He Xinlang crossed the Central Plains and hung the ancient battlefield in Xingyi.
Repeat 3,000 generations. Open the floodplain, endless jade, soup and river. If you plow in the wild and burn fire during the day, the dead will rot and burn deeply. Zero clearance, relying on shackles to promote waste. Clouds embrace the lonely city, the sky is four, the west wind hangs, and the eyes are cold. When the dragon and tiger die, the hero dies.
A string of tears in the loess. Mandenlin, the sunset is off, and the mountains and rivers are pointed out. The ancient tomb went through a lot of hardships, and the vertical shaft became famous. It's still ringing, boundless. As the old saying goes, dust can't blow away, and smoke is endless. After a trip, I cried.
Guo Hong Baijuyi Temple
Besson. Holding Cang Luo's brother, the wall is ruined and the spring is ruined. Cold grass, firefly phosphorus, barren temple fox fire, twilight will eventually sink. The futon is cold at night; Water recommendation, dark hall locks autumn shade. Wait for the rain, dare not chase.
Social day is still full of songs and ancient poems, more sentimental, as if it were today. I admire the guests, the pipa is old, and I hate the old Jiang Xun. Hanging, setting sun; * * * vicissitudes of life are paid to India. Grief against the court, birds spit, crows are amazing.
Qi Tianle reads Dream Window Ci.
A series of broken dreams are empty, and the window flows quietly. Flat wrist to eliminate scars, HongLing to fade sweat, re-tie the old love flavor. The shutter is sleepless. It is a pillow music, and the sunset is broken. Just after the West Garden, the evening fragrance falls in Qiu Si at will.
The story of a century ago. This is a sad song and a beautiful feeling, and it can be endowed with this. Yin trace lakes and mountains, full of words, sitting deep like relative. Changing lights changes the world. When the night is sad, the frost blows. Take care of the dust string, it will change in the middle of the night.
He Xinlang read "Snow Mud Ci" at night as a strategist.
Heming is everywhere. Read the world, Yiling into a valley, and go to the clouds. It is generous to write Yantai songs, but it is not a good day to write them. The world is vast and lonely. This is definitely like the old days, when you played with a shotgun, called midnight, and danced in the breeze. Return to the sun control and drive the dragon.
This is a sad poem. Twenty years, I don't know who will come, but I will sell it. Throughout the ages, the mountains in Zhongshan are pale and gloomy, and the sword fights with the mountains in Fujian. Unexpectedly, I entered the spectrum and cleared up all the gossip. Who told the romantic staff officer Lu Zaishen, is also ashamed to live. Hold the candle again, it will last forever.
Xia Yue Rotihua
Ancient yin, idle red falling dreams, dark spring eye east wind is very precious, column angle is half blown. However, the curtains are even more vivid and cold because they are afraid of going back to sit deep. Spring sail outside the threshold, pear clouds in Xue Mei, a piece of autumn.
Clear the wrongs. This song is played very slowly. The sleeves of the cage were stolen and the clothes were full. I've never traveled far before. Careless and lazy. I have no pity for the beautiful scenery in the south of the Yangtze River, but I'm afraid I'll meet you late. Then, like a fight, before reaching the bottle, press your eyebrows deep and shallow.