Liu Yong Yu Lin Ling
was cold and sorrowful, and was late for Changting, and the shower began to rest. In Kyoto city peripherals farewell, but did not drink the mood, is reluctant to leave, the boat people have been urged to start. Holding hands looked at each other, tears in eyes, until finally there was no words, a thousand words choking on the throat can not say. Think of this return to the south, this journey is another way, thousands of miles, a stretch of misty, the Night Fog of the sky is a boundless. Since ancient times, the sentimental people most sad is the departure, not to mention the autumn of the bleak, which can withstand the sadness. Who knows where I am when I sober tonight? Fear is only the edge, facing the sad morning wind and the waning of the waning of the waning moon. This is a long time, the people who fall in love are not together, I expect even to meet the good weather, good scenery, as in name only. Even if there is full of emotion, and who can enjoy it with?
His Bashengganzhou is also worth seeing, so I won't write it.
Qin Guan's Queqiao Fairy
Thin clouds are clever, flying stars spread hatred, and silver and Han are far away from darkness. When the golden wind and high curative value meet, they will win, but there are countless people in the world. Common v acacia, tender feelings water, a brief encounter like a dream, when they can not bear to see the bridge road. If the two feelings last for a long time, they are still there, day and night.
Nalan Xingde (pushed up by An Yiru)
Mulan's Ci imitates the ancients, and Cambodia's friends
If life is just like the first time, what is the west wind painting a sad fan? It's easy to change, but it's easy to change.
Li shan's dialect is clear at midnight, and the rain bell will not complain at night. What's more, if you're lucky enough, you'll be more willing than ever.
Huanxi yarn
Who thinks that the west wind is cool alone, and the rustling yellow leaves close the window and meditate on the past to set the setting sun.
It was only normal at that time that Mo Jing-chun, who was drunk, slept heavily and gambled away the fragrance of tea.
Jiang Kui (this person is not very famous, but I like this poem very much)
Yangzhou is slow
Huaizuo is a famous place, and Zhuxi is a beautiful place, so it's rare to get rid of the saddle and stay in the beginning. Ten miles after the spring breeze, the wheat is green. Since Huma and Peeping into the River, I have abandoned the trees in the pond, and I am still tired of talking about soldiers. At dusk, the angle is clear and the cold is blowing, all in the empty city. Du Langjun's reward, now, is too heavy to be surprised. Longitudinally speaking, the dream of a brothel is good, but it is difficult to be affectionate. The 24 th Bridge is still there, and the waves are swaying and Leng Yue is silent. Read the red medicine by the bridge, who will you know for every year?
If you really like very gorgeous ancient poems, I suggest you look at Yuefu Poetry Collection.