drifted into the water town
a tipsy dream
fell on the shoulders of Jiangnan
a leisurely awning boat
shook her mind
a bay of carved wine
got drunk by candlelight on both sides of the strait
a hazy flower window
sat embroidering with thousands of feelings. > after tying the cable to your door
with long, angry hair
I can't hide the panic in early spring
A sigh
I left the window half open with shame
I lit a lake
I looked at you secretly
I prayed for a gust of wind
I let go of the hesitation of the spring flowers and the moon. Recalling love
Holding a silk umbrella
Wandering in the south of the Yangtze River
Any pair of Hong Xiuxie
Telling bitterness
Standing at the edge of phoenix bamboo
Listening to the delicate green color
Lonely tired birds
Talking for a long time
Picking a leaf of green tea
. P > Holding a charming promise
Touching the willow on the cheek
Walking into the long embankment to look for Qiu Chan
A continuous shower
Intoxicating the once green face
Wandering silently in the rain lane
Remembering the phoenix eye on the window sill
A piece of falling pottery
But a passing love
Spring sorrow < P > flat in rhythm
colorful words are new and old
when the spring breeze is gentle
lovesickness is drunk
when the wind is tired and often hurts Chu
ambiguity depends on the willow
melancholy complex
exploring the secluded place alone
The swaying shadow
chews a beautiful sentence and travels
A pot of spring scenery turns pale yellow
The clear moon outside the window is fat and thin
The notes that drift away
are buttons torn off by the wind flowers
Peach red
I just want to plant a curtain of dreams by your feelings
Let vines step on the shoulders of the moon
. Willow
breathes out her heart like a orchid
Many colorful insects
sit quietly on the bud and listen to
those scattered sighs
or the weeping mood of willow whistle
the lamp sitting in front of your door
watching the flowers
the entanglement of dew
the heartache that stirs up the long night
the buildings that have curled up. Nightingale
I'll dig a hole in the West Lake
Bury all moldy amorous feelings
Gracefulness at dawn
Pushing open the window and bathing in pink
March in the south of the Yangtze River
March
emerald ink
will overflow through my teeth
a yawn
Indulgence is everywhere < Sentence
March
tearing the winter cotton-padded clothes
spreading its wings
soothing the lady in red in every bud
March
is a restless youth
filling the world with a rebellious
venting dusty depression
colorful tidbits
March
. P > In March
Many poets will die
In order to find a gorgeous sentence
jump into the Han Dynasty
melt in the furnace of rhetoric
the footsteps of spring
the breath of hibernation and melting
suddenly stop
freeze in a scene of snow
stand upright in Chai Men
a wisp of carefree breath. Sigh
turns into floating clouds
Those atomized honey words
are quietly wetting the corners of the eyes
Bridesmaids who don't need emerald color
set off their immature looks
There is no red carpet on the runway
They are surrounded by confidence
There are no bees and butterflies around
Introducing the latest beauties
. The annual rings
gently embrace a bunch of lotus
I really want to walk with you into the dusk
clouds in the south
under a row of green trees
You use your tender flower fingers
Pick a bud
Cover the clouds
Soak a pot of tea < Eyes are full of tears
Clouds holding their heads high in the south
Heart has gone with her to the end of the world
A green symbol
A drop of white love ink
Rendering a tree dancing
Dark fragrance overflowing with red sleeves
Drunk with the breeze and bright moon
A nightingale sings a song poem
Telling you faintly. The Yuan Opera plucked
The rain in loved one season
It drowned out the fallen English in Chu
You leaned on the south of the Yangtze River
and read the blossoming flowers
And those fermented characters
formed a green
sad element on the bun
The gentle and soothing narrative
is the footsteps of you walking through Haitang
. It's always warm on the pillow.
The cotton-padded coat with faded cocoon
A clump of green is formed on the hair tip.
I pushed open a window in the cloud
Looking for a heart lake under the dress
A bird with a cut ripple
Holding the spring dew on your cheek
Too much acacia in the bag
overflowed into a misty rain
. How many flowers
have associations
that beat in my heart
How many flutes
how many music scores
become birds that climb out of the chimney
How many colors
how many emotions
how many gorgeous
romantic eyes
this season. Misty rain
How much sadness
how much sorrow
there is when you lose your life in this season, how much sorrow
how much ambiguity
how much soft wind
how much feelings
are buried in poetry, and how much hot lips are branded for you.