Analysis:
Chunjiang mosaic moon Zhang Xuruo
Lian Haiping is in the spring tide, and the bright moon on the sea is born in the tide.
I drift thousands of miles, where there is no moonlight by the river?
The river flows around Fangdian, and the moonlight shines on the flower forest like graupel.
Frost flows in the air, you can't fly, but you can't see the white sand on the pavilion.
There is no dust in the sky on the river, and there is a lonely moon in the sky.
Who saw the moon by the river for the first time? When did Jiang Yue take the photo at the beginning of the year?
Life is endless from generation to generation, and Jiang Yue is only similar year after year.
I don't know who Jiang Yue is waiting for, but I see the Yangtze River delivering water.
The white clouds have gone, and Qingfeng is at a loss.
Whose boat tonight, where do you miss the moon floor?
Poor people wander upstairs for the moon, so they should leave someone to fill the mirror.
The curtain of the jade pot could not be rolled up, but it was brushed back on the anvil.
At this time, I don't know each other. I hope China will shine on you every month.
Hongyan flies in the sky, and fish Long Qian jumps in the water.
Last night, I dreamed that the idle pool had fallen, and the poor spring had not returned.
In spring, the river flows away, and the pond falls in the moon and the west.
The slanting moon hides the sea fog, and Jieshi Xiaoxiang Road is infinite.
I wonder how many people will return every month. The falling moon shook the trees by the river.
Langtaosha Liyu
The rain gurgled outside the curtains,
Spring is fading away.
Allred-rochow is too cold to stand.
I didn't know I was a dream guest,
A greedy day.
Don't lean on the fence alone,
Infinite mountains and rivers,
It's easier to see when it's not.
Running water is gone, and spring is gone.
Heaven and earth.
Love at first sight Li Qingzhao
The scent of red-violet has disappeared. The autumn chill seeped into my jade cushion.
Gently untie Luo Shang and go to Lan alone.
Who will send your message through the clouds?
When the word goose returns, the moon is full of the west wing.
The withered petals are scattered all over the floor, and the water flows smoothly.
One kind of lovesickness, two kinds of leisure worries.
There is no way to get rid of this desire.
Only under the eyebrows, but in my heart.