Poetry about curtains

It is impossible not to be ecstatic, the west wind blows behind the curtain, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.

Last night it was rainy and windy, and I couldn’t get rid of the remaining wine after a deep sleep. I asked the person behind the curtain, but I found that the crabapples were still the same. Do you know that they should be green, fat, red and thin?

The courtyard is a little deeper, with willow smoke and countless curtains. The jade-carved saddle is in the place where you can see the Zhangtai Road.

The beads are scattered into the curtains and the curtains are wet, and the fur coats are not warm and the brocade quilts are thin.

The breeze opens the curtain all day long, and the bright moon hangs the curtain alone tonight.

The pearl curtain rolls into the sky of the jade building, and the sky is pale and the Milky Way hangs down to the ground.

Small willow painted bridges, windy green curtains, and hundreds of thousands of homes.