I only know the twenty-five unvoiced strings
The first unvoiced string indicates the year when I woke up from the dream. Time flies by, and the lamp burns out in the cold night.
I still remember that the past is unfolding before my eyes. Once upon a time, I was proud of the world.
The unvoiced second string, a glimpse of a beautiful face. Yuanyang's small characters are written on red paper.
No regrets, snow, moon, wind and flowers are full of love. Youth is good, drink and talk happily.
The unvoiced third string makes waves in the sea of ??love. The west wind dances vigorously, secretly changing the beauty.
No resentment, looking at each other without words or tears. My heart is gray and my dreams are cold at midnight.
The fourth string is lightly sounded, and the swallows are dancing lightly. The man was haggard and concealed all his thoughts.
Sigh lightly, don’t worry like water splashing. It's dusk, and cicadas are singing in the quiet forest.
The unvoiced fifth string is lonely. The flowers bloom and fade, and the loneliness is unspeakable.
How embarrassing, the flowing water is ruthless and bends again. Unable to sleep at night, drunk and leaning on the pole.
The voiceless sixth string changes the sea into a mulberry field. Pink peaches and green willows, proud spring breeze.
Comfortable, beautiful scenery, perfect day, full moon. Today is not yesterday, dead trees have new looks.
The seventh string is played lightly, and the horse rides on the plain. Traveling all over the south of the Yangtze River, I feel calm and relaxed.
Joyfully, drunkenly dancing and sleeping under the willow trees in the setting sun. The joy in this reaches straight into the clouds.
The clear eighth string, when drunk, reaches the sky. Both sides of the Milky Way are dotted with stars.
Melancholy, the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd have tears in their eyes. Missing each other bitterly, but looking forward to reunion.
The voiceless ninth string, visiting Chanjuan on a moonlit night. The jade pestle is pounding medicine, and the cicadas are chirping in the osmanthus tree.
Everlasting regret, lonely Chang'e dances again. Spread your wide sleeves and grow lotuses step by step.
The unvoiced tenth string makes me watch the piano silently. One string and one pillar, always accompanying the good years.
Xiao Meng, a chapter about the hope that the emperor will be happy with his spring. Love is hard to break, passing water and cold smoke.
The eleven strings are played lightly, and the sword reflects the frost. Hu Ying Zhao Ke, the strong man Handan.
Proud and proud, the heroic souls and martyrs' flags are sprinkled. He is an old man in the world of martial arts and passionate.
Twelve strings with clear sounds, loyalty and strong promises. The daughter of Jibu, Nie Zheng is a traitor.
He is heroic and his reputation is passed down from generation to generation. With longing admiration, Wei Wu whipped his whip.
The clear sound of the thirteen strings, the drizzle sprinkles the rivers and rivers. The mountains are green and the moon is dim.
It is picturesque, and there are noisy mandarin ducks playing in the water. The scenery is beautiful and the clear water is clear.
The fourteen strings are voiceless, and the jade case is endowed with orchids. Qingxi Xiaojian, seclusion and peace.
The meaning is light, and the fragrance alone represents the virtuous person. I have few close friends, so I play the piano again.
Fifteen strings of clear sound, ask the sky for wine. Love is stranded and thoughts are hard to delete.
If the mind is confused, it is difficult for the sword of wisdom to cut through the lotus. Lock the mind with Zen ginseng.
The voiceless sixteen strings, the moonlight pity the flowers. We stay together forever and don’t envy the gods.
The tent is warm, and the soul enters the Guanshan Yanwuxuan. Whisper in a low voice, the earth will last forever.
The voiceless seventeen-stringed string, life is so new. Ladles and pots, smoke from cooking fires in the morning and evening.
It’s boring, and having constant household chores is annoying. It’s hard to have peace every night.
The 18th string is played lightly, and the years are suffering. When you are young and happy, you can write poems.
Recollection, the past is as fleeting as water. Looking back in shock, my temples are stained with snow.
Nineteen strings are voiceless, and the thoughts are expressed as a paper kite. Flying in the wind, smiling among the flowers.
The fragrance is dark, and the gurgling stream is faintly smokey. It turns into a colorful butterfly and takes up its fragrant roost.
Twenty strings of clear music, looking at the ruins at sunset. Qin bricks and Han tiles, in front of Wang Xietang.
Melancholy, a pillow of yellow beams and a dream of light smoke. Flying purple swallows together are the homes of the common people.
Twenty-one unvoiced strings, looking back and sighing for their stubbornness. Half of my life is scattered, in front of the beautiful wine.
Dream, a red building turns into a cuckoo. The voice is low and graceful, and the past is hard to describe.
Twenty-two strings of clear sound, sleeping in the sun. Take a dim view of leisure and lean on the railing alone.
Looking from a distance, there are green willows and small boats on the clear river. Light smoke rises, and beautiful flowers appear.
Twenty-three strings with clear sound, cool and unrestrained like a god. No need to worry, happy Linquan.
Be at ease, plant willows and flowers and realize Zen. With poetry and wine, life will be peaceful.
Twenty-four strings with clear sound, a small street stall in the market. Come and walk around and enjoy all kinds of things.
Practice, buy something and save a little money. Swing the spatula, delicious and fresh.
The twenty-five strings are clear and elegant, and the words are filled in elegantly. His brows were furrowed and he was heartbroken.
If you are addicted, poetry and wine are linked together to dance in Moxuan. ***Appreciate it, old friend and new love.