Plum blossoms are heavy and vulgar, and cloves are bitter and rough. Smoked a thousand miles of dreams, but ruthless. Drunken flowers, thick clouds and fog, eternal sorrow, refreshing mind, golden beasts disappear.
Double Ninth Festival, lying in bed, in the middle of the night, the cold on my body has just been soaked.
Dongli drinks until dusk, and faint chrysanthemum fragrance overflows his sleeves.
Don't say clear autumn is not a person, the west wind rolls the flag and beads curtain, and the person in the curtain is thinner than that Huang Ju. A piece of plum, red lotus root, fragrant residual jade autumn.
Gently untie Luo Shang and go to Lan alone.
Who sent the brocade book? The word goose returns, and the moon is full of the west building.
Flowers bloom and fall, and flowing water gurgles.
One kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure.
There is no way to eliminate this situation, only frown and mind.