Wanhua
Old friends are everywhere, and there is no stop in spring and summer. The mountains and rivers are sad and autumn, and I hope to stay in the yellow dance. For the time being, a glass of wine sounds like a tiger, and the roar is not broken, and the autumn is strong. Pen and ink in various forms, waving non-stop, the heart is full of resentment and bitterness. In the future, ink will be everywhere, making everyone jealous. So what? Even if an ink fountain is resident, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers are painted in the fog.
Chunyang
Jundao dances three glasses of wine and stays drunk in the clouds; I'm afraid of wasting my life, regardless of spring, summer and autumn. No one is there when I am worried, and everyone will stay when I am proud; Once drunk, I only wish I had private worries in my dreams. When I wake up, I see the winter scenery, and the snow is full of silence; When you are still drunk, there is no need to brag about the sadness of youth.
Seven show.
Since ancient times, who has stepped out of the enchanting dance and tasted the spring scenery around Bihu, can the spring breeze continue Tianshan Road? Have pity on my heart. The road is full of incense, and there are countless fires in Hanshan. Who can hunt too loose, don't be surprised by the morning fog. I prefer winter to spring, but I heard that the world is full of vines and ancient trees.
Ce Tian
When I was young, I wanted to be a king, but when I was old, I loved to run away from home. Think like a line, yellow sand is far away from the world. There are thousands of roads hidden in the dream. What is the edge of the vast earth? Jin ge's first meaning, white temples and sad lines change appearance. Just because the road is endless, don't cry, ask for more happiness!
Shaolin
Teenagers are dancing upstairs in Jiange, listening to the rain, looking at the spring breeze 50 thousand miles away, and the beautiful woman Wu Nong is soft and close at hand. Today's drinking monks, it is inevitable that their children will be affectionate and their temples will be gray. I still remember the ancient dances of those charming mothers and two lines of muddy tears dripping on the wooden fish.