Poetry is echoed by warblers, but books are not passed on by geese. Dong Jun is as old as before, and my sideburns are sighing. Things have passed, and everyone is too lazy to go out. Water plus smoke, mountains with sunset sorrow.
The willow sings the yellow bird, and the beach lies in Bai Ou. It's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan, so why buy a boat? Then Mongolia printed ink, and a word is better than a book. After two years, it is spring dusk.
Dreams are not in love, and the heart is nowhere to be found. Introspecting on my old age, I lived in a house near a mountain and a lake. The city is soft and dusty, and the mountain stinks deep. Free wild cranes and spring birds.
The stone sword sings the spring jade, and the pine sticks set the sun. I live in seclusion and have a reading heart. Occupy Huainan, and the west wind enters the temples. One river flows forever, and the scenery is the highest.
On an oblique day, I am fascinated by smoke trees and sail alone to see off guests. Very few people are happy. Today is autumn. The path enters Songguan ancient times, and autumn clouds are accompanied by trees and smoke. I only suspect that there is rain in the mountains. It's just a stream, not a spring.
The poet stays on the wall and the tourists are tied to the boat. With whom to recruit Lu Yu, Ming Lu Gu Li. I grew up in Beijing and wore clothes from the Eastern Jin Dynasty. There is no dust in the book, and every sentence in the pen is connected.
Jianghai became famous and the pond was full of dreams. The spirit is still the same, the fresher it is. After staying in Beijing for more than a month, you never know the scenery in spring. It can hurt the rain all night, just like in late autumn.
When the guests came, there was no wine, and everyone just talked about poetry. The closure of officials should be the hunger of the people. Looking back two years, I went to Lingyin. I haven't seen enough all the way, and my clothes are loose and exposed.
White clouds come to meet, springs and waterfalls are plain. There is no such scene in the world, far better than Lushan Road. There is no body on the avenue, where is the text? From innate painting, poetry is deleted from saints.
Popular for thousands of miles, the later works are out of reach. Weighing who is whose son, you can't save a word. Surrender my mind, like driving out foreign demons. The more bitter the poem is, the more correct the meaning is.
Time flies, the blue shirt is old and the white hair is worn away. Give up your talent for the world, but recite it yourself. Buy a boat to wear a secluded path, and the grave is the deepest. The wind near the mountain is often cold and cloudy during the day.
I didn't ride it all when I came. There were songbirds riding on the road. Send a message to the city people. Who wants to visit? Stay with poets and don't teach worldly knowledge. Chatting in suburban markets is late, and autumn is just right.
Sorrow is only based on wine, and poetry remains in the bag. People don't sleep, and the lights are friendly for longer. The scroll of songs is still open, and the songs are full of joy. Buy flowers, water the leaves and sweep the moss.
Towels are like cool yarn, and clothes are made of fine bamboo. Pan Lang was ashamed and white, mainly for Qiu Lai. Study in seclusion, where the village lives. The mind only wants to keep things, and the body is in harmony with the name.
Konoha leaves in the autumn wind and sings at the beginning of the night rain. My life is tonight, so I don't need anything Weeds build by laying bricks or stones along the courtyard and cover the door at leisure. It is cool in the evening after the rain, and the fallen leaves are cicadas.
The sound of nature is like bamboo, and the sound of anvil is like clothes. Monks can't get through this, so there's no need to buckle the mystery. Stepping into Yunling, Gao Ting Road is just flat. The pool is occupied by secluded trees, and the water is clear.
Poetry is difficult to recite without friends, and words are turned into words by monks. This is a real resort and the forest is silent.
Want to see the flying scenery, rent a boat at the lake head. White clouds invade mountains, and green trees are beside springs.
Those who enter the temple will come, and the forest will be full of shadows. The mountain is near, and you can learn Zen at night. Without affection, beauty is a long separation. The road is blocked and long, and the spring grass is green several times.
Feng chai has cold clouds on her temples, while Luan mirrors light clouds. I used to be a love birds, but now I am a lonely flying bird.
Worry about sending lang clothes, and the waist should be narrow. Rich people are rich people, and they don't worry if they are poor. Has its own LanHuiQing, not more ashamed than Xiao Ai.
Fame is like dew grass, floating tile Xu ruozhou. A once-in-a-lifetime encounter, Gao Kuiyi.
If poverty is not reached, a valley will camp on a mountain. The source is my festival, and my heart is carefully raised. The rain is enough to reach the mountain point, and the stream marks the shore sand. Flag planting, many wine merchants, hanging classes, are fishermen.
Bamboo shoots stretch in the ground and rape flowers are collected in the garden. In spring, the warbler sounds, and the wind swallows obliquely.
Cup with green lotus leaf and stir-fried white jade tea. The lonely village is dying, when there are crows. The wild rose is dead and the peony is going downhill. There is a beautiful tree in the afternoon, and the scene is still clear and harmonious.
Poetry is sung every day, and there is no stranger in the door. Less bamboo shoots and more lotus leaves.
More than ten days after the spring, Xia Yun has been senile. Last year, I was embarrassed and my body was laughing.
But I want to lie on a white stone. The rock is green. I have arranged it carefully, so don't ask how to arrange it. There is no cloud in the sky and no dust on the ground. June is complete, and the white jade is bright.
Ancient and modern with this month, according to the sky. The night before the bath is long and the wind is full of dew.
Clear the shadow into the window and talk with the heart. What you owe is a bottle of wine, but what you lack is a piano.
It's a pity to be at the seaside in such a good moonlight. Idiot in charge of official business, mentally exhausted.
No new moon, no entertainment, no frequency. Poetry is stirring tonight, and fishermen are singing wildly.
It's just that for Judah, the situation is relatively close to each other. Female backup singer picking lotus, Wang Shengliu. I didn't mean to surprise Yuanyang, but Yuanyang flew.
Morning dew wets my clothes, and dusk shines in my eyes. A leaf is as small as a melon, so you can live there freely.
Singing and carrying diamonds, attacking the wind and attacking the feet. Reed leaves reflect the clear harbor and capture the appropriate bath.
There is pain in the lotus, and I want to break my hand and return it. A broken lotus may hurt the lotus root, but a broken lotus root is difficult to continue.
The original is laughing, and the pair of mandarin ducks is sinking. My heart is full of bitterness, and I am afraid that the bitterness of chewing lotus root will turn deeper.
Lotus leaf halter learns Taoist feelings, and the makeup is bright. Both heads are white and still neck and neck, laughing to see that Yuanyang is not old.
A round house rings with gold, and ancient people hide their children. You can't have too many thorns in your hand, but it's hard to hurt people.
Pinghu Vivi is even clear, with beautiful flowers. A pair? I suddenly flew away, screaming at the bottom of the flower.
Who is the girl, who is the girl, who is the girl? Lotus sleeves are full of fragrance, and Lotus deeply forgets to return home.
There are many lotus flowers in the west of the West Lake, and the daughter of the boat is singing. The horse by the road, Kim, wants to live in autumn.
Put the boat into the depths of the flowers and look at the makeup in the stream without saying a word. Nanshan starts from Yunshan and Shan Yu, and the lotus does not return.
The waves started Yuanyang, and water droplets splashed hibiscus clothes. I hate that there are no flying feathers around you, and it's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan.
The west wind brings cool Yun Qi, and the boat floats in the water. The fragrant flowers are fragrant and fragrant, and the stalks are covered with thorns and onions.
Red yarn with half gold, Liulang sings on the embankment. In the rainy season in central Hunan, everything is empty.
The ship is teetering, and the flowers are falling on the way home. The emerald demon river is so deep that the underwater elves don't know it. Rain, willow color and deep spring in Yun Ge Pavilion in Jiangtou. The boat was blocked by the spring breeze, but who knows the guest's heart?
The light rain gradually inclined, and wine flags were inserted in two or three places. Jiangtou is decorated with the scenery of Qiu Lai, which is half reed flower and half Polygonum flower. The two temples are now one temple, because Qin Hu occupied the top of the mountain. The crane flies to legend of king, and the bird stays in the ancient grave.
The stone flows with the spring, and the pond flows with the current. More than ten odd wins, not as good as chasing you.
The suddenly floating picture was inserted into Cui Wei, which was not combined with the deeds of the prince of Wu. The monk shut the gate before it was too late to let the idle clouds fly. Autumn night is full of melancholy, and the empty hall is cool. The reading light can be turned off and I want to sleep for a long time.
Beef rings and weaving, fireflies flying and glowing. Rain came in from the window and dispersed the fragrance of rice and flowers.
Moonlight is like water and dust-free, and thousands of miles of acacia are always one heart. The edge of the winding fence is not clear, which makes autumn deep. When it comes to the rainbow, it will smoke at dusk, and the rain in the former village will not sail. Fortunately, I got to know monks, so I can sleep at night.
Little is known among the guests, just like the death knell. If there is no one in the Qing Dynasty, take a lamp to read Ju Chi's poems. Qingqing bears fruit in the plum shoots, only to see that spring has come and summer has passed. Knowing the master Shuang Yanzi, Shannon took the title to manage the new nest.
The sunny weather and the strong smell of wine attracted the madness of bees. At the independent fence, the flower seller is painting the west side of the bridge. Feng Ke's sideburns are small and loose, and there is wine in the pillow. Put a wicker in your hand and think carefully about the spring breeze.
Anyone who pities others to lock up Zhu Lou will only worry about the railing all day. Swallows also know that people are unlucky, so they fly slightly away from the curtain hook. A lesson is blowing to report autumn knowledge, and the jade dew and golden wind are at the right time. Wearing cool towels and wild clothes, watching Tang poetry in osmanthus fragrance.
Short hair is full of mirrors, but you shed it at home. I haven't seen the West Lake for two years, so I'm Bai Ou. In the short crown of lotus fragrance, water, color and mountain light are all the same. I didn't expect to go to the rainbow twice this year.
Lotus leaves are breezy and hot, and the waves are cold and wet. The crying rainbow is still in the dark for three months, and it only takes one trip back to Yuxi. It's late at night, and there are no apricot flowers in the garden. Half sunny and half rainy spring is not accurate, Yan is afraid of light cold and can't bear to fly.
When spring enters the home, it is deep and the courtyard is long and heavy. The guests' impatience with the rain aroused homesickness.
Spring is full of Wu tou, and water is lapping on the shore. I remember last year's peach leaf crossing, and infinite lovesickness made people sad. Dong Jun is very busy everywhere, if only it rained. Hostels have been opened all over Shan Mei, and they are all lazy from now on.
Thin and gentle cold dew rain, slightly whispering the early autumn wind. When the boat arrives in Songjiang, it catches birds at three highs.
Clouds brew rain and delay flowers, and plums have drifted apricot branches. It is a dreamy place in the pond, and spring grass hooks into new poems.
You can practice sweating and bathing in summer and call it a day in autumn. No one * * * ordered the lyrics, which are unique to cicada Screaming Trees.
Blowing down Yang Huachun, the new green rain in the pond adds scars. The sericulture season is still cold, and the villagers are semi-closed. A scene in Songjiang is Hongqiao, and I want to invite poets to catch the giant aojiang. Wuyue knows several dreams of his government, but today he is strong and tall.
The snow is cold, and the fishing song of the autumn moon is firm but gentle. Put away thousands of hectares of glass, all for the waves. Poetry is as clear as plum blossoms, and the Jianghu has long known its name. If you don't allow it, you stick to the plan and stay behind the scenes.
According to the spirit of the seat, it is beautiful, and it is only when you are an official that you press Jincheng. Xinglang was once a bosom friend. He looked at seaweed. Every time the Confucian crown laughs, He Guiyu stays in spring. Nanpu doesn't think grass hates, and West Lake worries about plum blossoms.
Four spirits have passed away, and the old man has retired. Who will continue? Domestic chickens can be searched again. The alien took part in the Yupan meditation rest and suddenly a corner stood on the top. The cloud roots are strong at the far tip, and whoever folds the moss doubts the rain.
In my dream, my eyes are empty and my chest is full of saliva. It is difficult for this dragon to enter the Ningsangpu, and it was unearthed for several years. Therefore, standing listening to the rain and looking up at the abyss, a rain will comfort the people today. After a long period of economic development, Cambodia's heart is still there, and the reason for the change is still the same as the sky.
Patriotism, diligence, broad jade belt, and profound defense of Jincheng. It's hard to describe my exploits, but I saw the royal family celebrate peace. The west wind is tight, the leaves fall off, and the cold dew and cold chrysanthemum surround the fence. Reed flowers are white and full of beauty, and geese are anxious and sad.
I am happy with my ideas, but I am far away from them. Vigorous, the night leaks late, the clouds are dark and the mountains are declining.
One by one, squinting at the yellow ash blowing, I feel sorry for thousands of disciples and can't drive them away. Poor apes threw themselves into the forest and let them go, but they learned.
From now on, I will be bound by a micro-official, showing that I can sing, sing, drink and be happy. Don't you care about my brothers and sisters? How lonely pedestrians are.