Classic and sad ancient love poem 1: Xijiang Moon holds hands to see the deep path of flowers.
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: He Zhu
Original text:
Hand in hand to see the deep diameter of flowers, shoulder to shoulder and wait for the moon porch It's already embarrassing to wait in line. This passage is hard to recall.
If you want to send a book as far as the sky, it is difficult to sell it as old as night. Small windows break people's intestines. More on the canoe pillow.
Classic sad ancient love poem II: Bodhisattva crossing the river, colorful boat carrying sorrow.
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: He Zhu
Original text:
The ship left the shore just to see what happened in front of me. It's getting late at sunset in the distance, and I'm exhausted at dusk.
Who dreams with * * * by the window on a good night? But when I woke up, it was a new separation.
Classic sad ancient love poem 3: remembering Qin E's flower god
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: Zheng Wen's wife
Original text:
The flowers are deep. A pair of crochet socks lined the curtain. These flowers are cloudy. Idle willow belt, fine knot concentric.
The news from Japan is empty and heavy. The thrush upstairs is crawling sadly. Sadness is coming. I hope I can see the begonia now after it blooms.
Classic and Sad Ancient Love Psalm 4: Magnolia, Qin Qing, Beat the drums and beg for the phoenix again.
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: He Zhu
Original text:
Qing Qin drum burn again, purple devoted repeatedly arrogant cymbals. In the distant mountains, eyebrows and eyes are like recognizing the heart, and the sound of sports cars is watching.
Cui quilt clothes, drunk cold and bell. This kind of happiness only allows dreams to date with dreams, and dreams are said every time.
Classic sentimental ancient love poem 5: fickle love and polymorphism of light makeup
Dynasty: Song Dynasty
Author: He Zhu
Original text:
Light makeup is polymorphic, more beautiful and more frequent. Only then did I know that I had promised first, and she was shy with money. I still remember the painting hall, that romantic, faint smile, charming helplessness. Sleeping by the duck stove, in the screen of the boudoir, ashamed to steal Luo Xiang.
After burning the lamp, there is no sight of picking vegetables. On several occasions, with the profound meaning of Shuang Yan and Ding Ning, we hated the curtain. When shall we meet again? It's only spring, and people are always bored when they are free. Tired from sleep, there are flowers in the sky.