Pour a cup to Liu Yong
The weather in the water town is full of sprinklings of Jianjia and cold dew. The guest house is even more worthy of autumn. Under the empty steps, the wooden leaves are falling, rustling, and the strong wind is sweeping. When I have no clues and I have just woken up from the quiet wine, I am marching outside the sky. I know who I will send to my family to convert, and I scream through the clouds.
The crickets are noisy at the secluded window, the rats are peeking at the cold inkstone, and a little silver [钅工] is shining in idle light. The dream pillow is often frightened, the quilt is half-embraced with sorrow, and the heart returns quietly after thousands of miles. How much do you think about the past? Winning the empty space makes the situation more difficult. I can't sleep, I'm tired of this night, and it's hard to know.
Looking into the distance, Liu Yong
The auspicious sky descends, the cold wind blows, and the Yao flowers begin to fall. The monks' houses are floating in disorder, the singing tower is densely scattered, and the winding winding gradually loses sight of the mandarin duck tiles. It's a good fisherman. He goes back covered with a raincoat, and he can be painted on the river at night. Chang'an is full of people, but the price of wine in Qiting is high.
Elegant. It is most suitable to visit Dai when you are in high spirits, and enjoy the fun at Pan Xiaochu and Yuexi. The bright crane seizes the fresh food, the white [idle bird] loses its prime, and spreads across the cold field thousands of miles away. It is necessary to believe that the orchid song is over, the red clouds are gone, there is no Qiong Pavilion in Yaotai. Let a bright moon shine and clear the night.
Yulin Ling Liu Yong
The cicadas are mournful, facing the pavilion at night. The showers have begun to subside, and there is no trace of drinking in the tents of the capital. Fang is nostalgic, and the orchid boat is urging it to go. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked. The thought goes away, thousands of miles of smoke waves, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast.
Sentiment has hurt parting since ancient times, and it is even more embarrassing to neglect the Qingqiu Festival. Where can I wake up from my drunkenness tonight? On the bank of willows, with the waning moon in the morning breeze. After so many years, it should be a good time and good scenery.
Even if there are thousands of customs, who can tell me!