Xin Qiji's Qing Ping Le

Qingpingle stayed alone in the Wangshi Temple in Boshan, with hungry mice around the bed and bats dancing with lanterns. There was a breeze blowing in the room, and it rained heavily. I talked to myself between the broken paper windows. From the northern frontier to the south, and now retired to the forest, it is already an old face with white hair. A cold autumn wind blew through the thin cloth quilt and woke up suddenly. It was still a dream country in front of me.

Fishing (1 179) has already arrived at sea and moved from Hubei to Hunan, where Tongguan Wang bought a small mountain pavilion to pray. More can disappear, a few storms, and rush back to spring. Cherish spring and hate early flowers, not to mention countless red flowers. Live in spring! See, Tianya Cao Fang lost his way. Hate spring and have no words. It's just diligent, and it's doing everything in Yogyakarta. Nagato, quasi-quasi-rituals and mistakes. Moth eyebrows used to be enviable. A thousand dollars to buy each other is like buying a gift, but who complains about this situation? You don't dance, you don't watch, Yuhuan Yan Fei is dusty. Leisure is the hardest. Don't lean on dangerous buildings, the sun is setting, and the flowers are bright. Ugly slave, the middle wall of Shuboshan Road (also known as "picking mulberry seeds") Xin Qiji wrote "Going to the countryside"