Nine golden doors, wrong colors and flashy photos.
A few strands of China silk beads, rouge and red lips.
A romantic misty rain followed.
Ancient stage, ordinary place, vaguely flowered drum affectionate voice.
However, lovesickness seems heartless and detached from others.
* * * ten percent of life and death, but alienation is fleeting after all.
For a time, dramatic language became a prophecy.
There are so many famous flowers in the world that we should explain ourselves.
Whenever the bead curtain rises, singing is like a play.
Qing Huan at that time was a song that no one could compare with.
Who didn't see it? Time passed like smoke.
Anyone outside the play, who knows separation, becomes your wife in the play.
The sleeves are warm and fragrant, and the table is full of bright moon.
Who has gentle eyebrows and eyes and sings in spring?
Laugh and frown like jade.
When the building is west, the carved wooden fence leans against it.
The famous flower is taken, but I have no intention of complaining about the good liquid.
It is better to go home than to ask for more clothes when we meet.
It is better to reminisce about that time than to meet with laughter.
Look at the spring gap, who knows when the bead curtain will rise.
Sing, nine doors are prosperous and nine doors are precious, and life is like a play.
If we meet, who can sing a happy song?
I have never seen a fleeting time, like smoke.
Drunk sandalwood pen, in the book, ruthless but not infatuated.
Watching the clouds rise suddenly and vaguely, the spring shirt is getting cold.
The world is too quiet, so I never show my eyebrows.
Remove the red makeup and add ripples.