Flowers fly in the water garden, bows pick up fragments, and water is as charming. Cigarettes curl up in my heart, sparks smell fresh, a handful of yellow sand smoke, sorrow, sorrow, endless galleries.
Curled eyelashes, dry wind, dry eyes, white lips and black face.
Worried for thousands of years, the city wall falls off and misses, the ancient bridge section, the time is shallow, and the initial words are low.
Rain floats on the earth, smiling bitterly all night, folding a flying flower buried alone.
Strange white flowers are falling and fluttering, and it is suspected that winter has come to autumn.
The cypress is green, the birds are extinct, the butterflies rest quietly, the river stands still and lacks frogs, and people enjoy flowers.
Flowers and clothes fall to the ground, very charming, jade scattered green. Feathers flying, boundless, with a word and all kinds of love.
A leisurely scene, a distant heart, a hundred generations of breeze, countless feelings, sadness and intoxication have nothing to do with the body.
Clouds are blurred, I don't look at clouds, I look at Guangtian's endless scars, but I feel sad and groan, and I have been euphemistic for a lifetime.
Let the water drop hit obliquely, and now it is arrogant and hazy, overlapping with the person in front.
Gather words into songs, scatter words into sorrow, gather and disperse, and look forward to returning. First frost daisy, disturbing the world, lonely into a sentence, lonely as a poem. ...
Rainy alley, rainy night flowers bloom, do not open, no one can speak for this situation.
Water drops help fire, a fire, residual love, smoke and rain, it is difficult to bury flowers.
A fragment, red eyes, painted face.
It hurts me to bury flowers on a rainy night.