Fine, it seems that it is not easy, it is a crystal tear. -Su Shi's "Shui Long Yin, Er Yun Zhang Zhifu Huayang Ci"
Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first. -Li Qingzhao's Wuling Spring Festival Evening
Holding hands and looking at each other with tears, I was speechless. -Liu Yong's "Yulinling"
I will never see my old friend last year again, and my tears are soaked through my clothes. -Ouyang Xiu's Life Inspector Yuan Xi
Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing. -Ouyang Xiu's "The Recent Flowers"
Afraid of being asked questions, swallow your tears and pretend to be happy. -Tang Wan's "Chai Toufeng, the world is thin"
Return your double beads, my eyes are full of tears, and I regret not meeting you before I got married. -Zhang Ji's "Woman's Song"
Doing "Riverside" is full of tears, and there are many worries. -Qin Guan's "Jiangchengzi Xicheng Liu Yangnong Alcohol Meat"?
Cochineal tears make people drunk, grow up naturally when they are heavy, and hate water. -Li Yu's Crying at Night
The meaning of each poem is as follows:
At this moment, there is no way to talk. Only the tears that fall with the face, with the years of acacia crystal clear, make people choke to read.
The metaphor of tears is "if you look carefully, it is not a flower, but a tear that leaves people."
The scenery remains the same, but the people are different. It's all over. If you want to tell your troubles, your tears have already fallen first.
Holding hands, looking at each other, my eyes were full of tears, and I couldn't speak until the end, and I couldn't say a thousand words in my throat.
Never see last year's lover again, and Pearl's clothes are soaked with tears.
Pour out your pain to the flowers with sad tears, but the flowers can't speak; The red petals swing around like a swing and go with the wind.
Afraid of being asked, I held back my tears and forced a smile in front of others.
Holding back my sad mood, I returned the pearl you gave me, but my tears fell down.
Even if the river turns into tears, it will never stop flowing, and there is still sadness in my heart.
The residual flowers in the wind and rain, like a woman with rouge on her face, are fascinating and I don't know when to meet again. People grow up in hatred and grow eastward like that flowing water.