Praise Li Qingzhao's poem, a little longer, grade three students, hand it in the day after tomorrow, hurry up! 1

The lyrics of "Li Qingzhao" smoke locked the drizzle in Qin Lou. Should the begonia flower be green, fat, red and thin, floating in the canoe, raining, dispersing the wind and suddenly adding new worries and sleeping? How much do you want to say about residual wine? The geese are gone, but I still drink the tenderness in the cup last night. This made me frown, but when I woke up, Zephyr stared at the curtains all day. Who is thinner than the yellow flower in the old dream? When I woke up, I didn't see a red crisp hand on the table. Who is the head of the hairpin? Looking for it is like dreaming. Where are you waiting for Acacia? In the morning, the curtain hooks my hair lazily. It's not sad autumn. The newcomer is thin and the flowers float across the water. After thousands of years, tears linger in rhyme. I'm waiting for a slow voice. Who knows if Jin Shu is no longer in the wild goose, but he is still there. I drank that cup of tenderness last night, and then I frowned, but it came back to me. Who misses me? Who is thinner than Huanghua? Who didn't see a red crisp hand on the table after waking up? Who looks like a dream? Where are you waiting for this? Who misses me? Who wakes up in the west wind? Dreaming who is thinner than the yellow flower, when the wind blows, I wake up without red hands. Whose hairpin head is looking for it, like a dream. Where are you waiting?