Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.
Silence to the front
Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.
Ganliangzhu
The slow road is famous for its flowers, and the cold door is unique.
Beautiful women turn a thousand degrees, and spring scenery is full of gardens.
I studied poetry in the same case for three years, and once I went back to become a butterfly with you.
Liang Shanbo, who is obsessed with singing, wishes her a wonderful life today!
Mourn for Liang Zhu
There is barely a woman facing the sky, I am empty-winged.
There is no story of weeds, and there is a fragrant wind when it falls.
Crazy catkins are different, and light poplar flowers are charming.
10, there are no green trees in the sunset, but the hospitality shines red.
The Legend of Butterfly in Liang Zhu
It rained cold for three days and nights. Butterflies with wet wings whirled sadly in the rotting fragrance everywhere. Between the sticky leaves, there is a meager morning light and residual tears. The vast mountains and faint balconies, like a world-long maze, are intertwined in lush green grass and extend far away to meet the sedan chair floating from the secluded path.
The sound of horns and suona resounded through the sky, crushing the soil all over the place. The man in the red wedding dress abandoned the ancient mirror of homesickness and the comb of lovesickness, and only brought a broken and withered heart.
Gorgeous colorful robes can't cover my thin body like leaves; The brilliant rockhopper can't cover my cold and gloomy face; The sound of gongs and drums can't call back my determination to go home. The desolate roadside is isolated with a pile of desolate green graves. Called the bearers, gently lifted the curtain, smiled, speechless, but tears fell down.
Uncle Shan, do you want Yingtai to confirm Yue Mingting's oath? Thunder in winter, rain and snow in summer, harmony between heaven and earth, dare to part with you. This eternal true love is better than your life and my life, and it is better than the wealth in front of you.
Life is inseparable, and death is inseparable. In that dark grave, as long as our flexible hair is intertwined, all the cold secular prejudices will be separated. Life can't be married, death can't be just, fly with me, both fly.
At this moment, I have tears, but I am not sad. That lingering infatuation has gradually died like a numb mountain. The only thing that survived to comfort me was your illusory smile and the dribs and drabs of our three years together. Remember that March when the apricot blossoms rained and the flowers blossomed? I stay away from high walls and deep courtyards, and smoke locks my boudoir. I took off the beaded Yu Pei swaying around my waist, took off a thousand-strand tightly wrapped plain skirt, and put on a young men's suit with cool sleeves, a square towel of Confucianism and a folding fan. When I appeared in front of you, your surprised eyes and sincere smile warmed the tears I hadn't had for a long time.
Countless sunny days in Wan Li, before the flowers bloom and under the moon, we sing poems and paint, play the piano and whisper, and play between mountains and rivers and dusk clouds. Every day with you, every grass and tree exudes intoxicating gentleness. In your eyes, I am my dear Xiaoying Tai, my little brother, and you are my what?
In fact, I can't explain why the eyes that look at each other in an instant have long believed that love is doomed in stone. I am so familiar with you, vaguely familiar, as if I have never been apart, and the feelings that have been dusty for many years are opened at this moment. However, I don't want to be noticed by you. Perhaps, you have seen it, between my smiling eyes ...
Bandu, a classmate of three years, is our bosom friend who talks about everything. It's just that you don't understand my tender heart, confuse my reserve of living alone, pity my thin body, stare at my simple and shy expression and taste my gentle words. The clear water lying flat between the pillows reflects your innocent heart and your invisible shy face.
Countless days when flowers bloom and fall, the sun and the moon change, holding a scroll of classes, reciting poems and dialogues, containing my endless acacia. Before burning incense, it was your heart and my daughter's feelings, and Yuanyang in the water was laughing at your stupidity. Uncle Shan, I don't want to be your sworn brother. I want to be your wife for life.
Three years have passed in a hurry, and in a blink of an eye, you and I are about to leave, and the eighteen pavilions are willing to send each other, but you can't understand the sadness in my tearful eyes. Your little nine sisters promised you, that is, the boy in white in front of you. Please remember her appearance, her face and her future, and then greet your beautiful bride carefully.
The white pony flies, and spring has gone to the autumn solstice. I leaned against the fence and wore autumn water, but I didn't expect your figure. The only thing waiting for me is the marriage decided by my parents.
You came in a hurry, with a surprised expression, and were troubled by the mystery you didn't understand for a long time. Meeting privately on the balcony, you and I looked at each other, but there was nothing to say. Silence, silence is the flute of farewell! A good marriage is missed or wrong, but it is only a year and a half of acacia. Although I was very angry and decided to resist marriage and flee without permission, your cowardice made me very sad, sad and helpless.
Yes, I can't resist marriage, just as you can't take me away easily I hope that the snobbish eyes of the government will strip away your poverty layer by layer and your only self-confidence and dignity. You waved your sleeves angrily, leaving me to look at the cold moon window, waiting for the stone wrapped in paper to fly out of the wall and shoot down my mind; Look forward to the language on the paper and make a promise to stay together; I am looking forward to following the trajectory of the moon, avoiding crowded houses and looking for a paradise to accommodate my feelings.
However, I didn't expect the wait to be so long. I haven't heard from you. Acacia has turned into a thin Leng Yue, still shining on my gaunt face, on this lonely and cold balcony. Every night, the wind chimes ring in front of my window. Can you hear me? Perhaps, I can only put my desire and piety into the incense burner of prayer and light them one by one from the gloomy colors. In fact, I only wish that the sky is not old! Pray that you and I will remain private.
Rain hates clouds, lovesickness turns to ashes, and your gloomy and sad death shattered all my dreams again. I am eager to see the Shili Pavilion, waiting at a loss, and I can't call back your distant figure.
Now that you have passed away, my soul is about to be scattered, and life is so fragile, can I still love and hate?
Today, I set foot on the wedding bridge, not for the wealth of the Ma family, but to escape the shackles of fate forever.
Sambo, I came to see you, wearing a red wedding dress.
Today, I am your bride. Far away, I have heard the wedding drums coming from the clouds and the sky. But at the moment, the drizzle is gently caressing my skin and giving me the final wedding baptism. I know you will come as scheduled; I know, all this is your invisible arrangement.
Take off the heavy rockhopper, take off the gorgeous wedding dress, and I, wearing a white shirt, leave the sedan chair and run to your green grave, with clear tears, condensed into a complex I want to break. Fragile, I can't escape this kind of sadness, but I have lost my heart for crying ... I brought a celadon jade bowl and threw it in front of your grave to let its fragments splash. At the beginning, it was not the bowl full of clear water that crossed between you and me, but the shackles of secular prejudice and morality. Yes, you said that neither you nor I are gods. When I pour it, water will drip out. When I hit it, my dream will be shattered. When you leave, my soul will be scattered.
I brought osmanthus wine, no longer constrained by my daughter's reserve, filled my glass with acacia, and shed tears and rich autumn colors. Let's sip together, enjoy the meeting moment that you and I look forward to day and night, and let's whisper in this bleak world of mortals, even though we are made in heaven. Or, let me wait in the wind forever, keep in front of your grave, keep the moon white and the wind light.
I brought an ink poem and burned it in front of your grave. I used to wear black silk scarves, black clogs, and blue and white clothes, walking in the sky, with white inside and white inside, rereading the morning glow, dancing in the breeze for the Book of Songs, singing in the wine for Chu Ci, and singing softly under the oil lamp. Who will have fun with * * * and cut the candle at the western window? Now, the pen is still the same as paper, and the peach blossom has not fallen into the idle pool, but you have left.
I brought the guqin, my fingers trembled, and I played an old song about sex, as if I were crying. Sad notes flow from my fingers and the strings are parted, which is what I want to tell; What the strings drown is what I want to indulge in; What the string sound has gone through is what I am looking for; What I want to dance with is a string dance.
I brought the silk handkerchief you gave me. In front of the grave full of flowers, I will dance for you and cry for you in song for you and song for you. If I burn my face and turn my hair into ashes, I can exchange my old hair for this life, and then let my thin body fly in the wind. The blood I beat will pour out the gentleness of my life when I am high and low, splash on the strings and fly away with gentle smoke. ...
Eternal commitment, eternal companionship, empty vows of eternal love, with the flowers flying all over the sky, have all turned into passing clouds and dispersed gently in the wind.
I am here, guided by the bluebird and accompanied by the cuckoo. God just waved a bright sword and cut off the last fetters of darkness. In the shining light, I see your happy face approaching, approaching, infinite fusion ... In that dark grave, we will closely depend on each other, weave a delicate love, and block all bitter customs. I want to be with you, Liu.
I don't believe that eyes washed with tears will be brighter. However, I see the wind shaking your fluttering skirt; I heard your hurried footsteps. Also, a pair of butterflies, dancing in the bright moon flowers.
Responder: peanut butter popcorn-beginner level 4-5 2 1:47
Silence to the front
Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.
Silence to the front
Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.
Ganliangzhu
The slow road is famous for its flowers, and the cold door is unique.
Beautiful women turn a thousand degrees, and spring scenery is full of gardens.
I studied poetry in the same case for three years, and once I went back to become a butterfly with you.
Liang Shanbo, who is obsessed with singing, wishes her a wonderful life today!
Mourn for Liang Zhu
There is barely a woman facing the sky, I am empty-winged.
There is no story of weeds, and there is a fragrant wind when it falls.
Crazy catkins are different, and light poplar flowers are charming.
10, there are no green trees in the sunset, but the hospitality shines red.
The Legend of Butterfly in Liang Zhu
It rained cold for three days and nights. Butterflies with wet wings whirled sadly in the rotting fragrance everywhere. Between the sticky leaves, there is a meager morning light and residual tears. The vast mountains and faint balconies, like a world-long maze, are intertwined in lush green grass and extend far away to meet the sedan chair floating from the secluded path.
The sound of horns and suona resounded through the sky, crushing the soil all over the place. The man in the red wedding dress abandoned the ancient mirror of homesickness and the comb of lovesickness, and only brought a broken and withered heart.
Gorgeous colorful robes can't cover my thin body like leaves; The brilliant rockhopper can't cover my cold and gloomy face; The sound of gongs and drums can't call back my determination to go home. The desolate roadside is isolated with a pile of desolate green graves. Called the bearers, gently lifted the curtain, smiled, speechless, but tears fell down.
Uncle Shan, do you want Yingtai to confirm Yue Mingting's oath? Thunder in winter, rain and snow in summer, harmony between heaven and earth, dare to part with you. This eternal true love is better than your life and my life, and it is better than the wealth in front of you.
Life is inseparable, and death is inseparable. In that dark grave, as long as our flexible hair is intertwined, all the cold secular prejudices will be separated. Life can't be married, death can't be just, fly with me, both fly.
At this moment, I have tears, but I am not sad. That lingering infatuation has gradually died like a numb mountain. The only thing that survived to comfort me was your illusory smile and the dribs and drabs of our three years together. Remember that March when the apricot blossoms rained and the flowers blossomed? I stay away from high walls and deep courtyards, and smoke locks my boudoir. I took off the beaded Yu Pei swaying around my waist, took off a thousand-strand tightly wrapped plain skirt, and put on a young men's suit with cool sleeves, a square towel of Confucianism and a folding fan. When I appeared in front of you, your surprised eyes and sincere smile warmed the tears I hadn't had for a long time.
Countless sunny days in Wan Li, before the flowers bloom and under the moon, we sing poems and paint, play the piano and whisper, and play between mountains and rivers and dusk clouds. Every day with you, every grass and tree exudes intoxicating gentleness. In your eyes, I am my dear Xiaoying Tai, my little brother, and you are my what?
In fact, I can't explain why the eyes that look at each other in an instant have long believed that love is doomed in stone. I am so familiar with you, vaguely familiar, as if I have never been apart, and the feelings that have been dusty for many years are opened at this moment. However, I don't want to be noticed by you. Perhaps, you have seen it, between my smiling eyes ...
Bandu, a classmate of three years, is our bosom friend who talks about everything. It's just that you don't understand my tender heart, confuse my reserve of living alone, pity my thin body, stare at my simple and shy expression and taste my gentle words. The clear water lying flat between the pillows reflects your innocent heart and your invisible shy face.
Countless days when flowers bloom and fall, the sun and the moon change, holding a scroll of classes, reciting poems and dialogues, containing my endless acacia. Before burning incense, it was your heart and my daughter's feelings, and Yuanyang in the water was laughing at your stupidity. Uncle Shan, I don't want to be your sworn brother. I want to be your wife for life.
Three years have passed in a hurry, and in a blink of an eye, you and I are about to leave, and the eighteen pavilions are willing to send each other, but you can't understand the sadness in my tearful eyes. Your little nine sisters promised you, that is, the boy in white in front of you. Please remember her appearance, her face and her future, and then greet your beautiful bride carefully.
The white pony flies, and spring has gone to the autumn solstice. I leaned against the fence and wore autumn water, but I didn't expect your figure. The only thing waiting for me is the marriage decided by my parents.
You came in a hurry, with a surprised expression, and were troubled by the mystery you didn't understand for a long time. Meeting privately on the balcony, you and I looked at each other, but there was nothing to say. Silence, silence is the flute of farewell! A good marriage is missed or wrong, but it is only a year and a half of acacia. Although I was very angry and decided to resist marriage and flee without permission, your cowardice made me very sad, sad and helpless.
Yes, I can't resist marriage, just as you can't take me away easily I hope that the snobbish eyes of the government will strip away your poverty layer by layer and your only self-confidence and dignity. You waved your sleeves angrily, leaving me to look at the cold moon window, waiting for the stone wrapped in paper to fly out of the wall and shoot down my mind; Look forward to the language on the paper and make a promise to stay together; I am looking forward to following the trajectory of the moon, avoiding crowded houses and looking for a paradise to accommodate my feelings.
However, I didn't expect the wait to be so long. I haven't heard from you. Acacia has turned into a thin Leng Yue, still shining on my gaunt face, on this lonely and cold balcony. Every night, the wind chimes ring in front of my window. Can you hear me? Perhaps, I can only put my desire and piety into the incense burner of prayer and light them one by one from the gloomy colors. In fact, I only wish that the sky is not old! Pray that you and I will remain private.
Rain hates clouds, lovesickness turns to ashes, and your gloomy and sad death shattered all my dreams again. I am eager to see the Shili Pavilion, waiting at a loss, and I can't call back your distant figure.
Now that you have passed away, my soul is about to be scattered, and life is so fragile, can I still love and hate?
Today, I set foot on the wedding bridge, not for the wealth of the Ma family, but to escape the shackles of fate forever.
Sambo, I came to see you, wearing a red wedding dress.
Today, I am your bride. Far away, I have heard the wedding drums coming from the clouds and the sky. But at the moment, the drizzle is gently caressing my skin and giving me the final wedding baptism. I know you will come as scheduled; I know, all this is your invisible arrangement.
Take off the heavy rockhopper, take off the gorgeous wedding dress, and I, wearing a white shirt, leave the sedan chair and run to your green grave, with clear tears, condensed into a complex I want to break. Fragile, I can't escape this kind of sadness, but I have lost my heart for crying ... I brought a celadon jade bowl and threw it in front of your grave to let its fragments splash. At the beginning, it was not the bowl full of clear water that crossed between you and me, but the shackles of secular prejudice and morality. Yes, you said that neither you nor I are gods. When I pour it, water will drip out. When I hit it, my dream will be shattered. When you leave, my soul will be scattered.
I brought osmanthus wine, no longer constrained by my daughter's reserve, filled my glass with acacia, and shed tears and rich autumn colors. Let's sip together, enjoy the meeting moment that you and I look forward to day and night, and let's whisper in this bleak world of mortals, even though we are made in heaven. Or, let me wait in the wind forever, keep in front of your grave, keep the moon white and the wind light.
I brought an ink poem and burned it in front of your grave. I used to wear black silk scarves, black clogs, and blue and white clothes, walking in the sky, with white inside and white inside, rereading the morning glow, dancing in the breeze for the Book of Songs, singing in the wine for Chu Ci, and singing softly under the oil lamp. Who will have fun with * * * and cut the candle at the western window? Now, the pen is still the same as paper, and the peach blossom has not fallen into the idle pool, but you have left.
I brought the guqin, my fingers trembled, and I played an old song about sex, as if I were crying. Sad notes flow from my fingers and the strings are parted, which is what I want to tell; What the strings drown is what I want to indulge in; What the string sound has gone through is what I am looking for; What I want to dance with is a string dance.
I brought the silk handkerchief you gave me. In front of the grave full of flowers, I will dance for you and cry for you in song for you and song for you. If I burn my face and turn my hair into ashes, I can exchange my old hair for this life, and then let my thin body fly in the wind. The blood I beat will pour out the gentleness of my life when I am high and low, splash on the strings and fly away with gentle smoke. ...
Eternal commitment, eternal companionship, empty vows of eternal love, with the flowers flying all over the sky, have all turned into passing clouds and dispersed gently in the wind.
I am here, guided by the bluebird and accompanied by the cuckoo. God just waved a bright sword and cut off the last fetters of darkness. In the shining light, I see your happy face approaching, approaching, infinite fusion ... In that dark grave, we will closely depend on each other, weave a delicate love, and block all bitter customs. I want to be with you, Liu.
I don't believe that eyes washed with tears will be brighter. However, I see the wind shaking your fluttering skirt; I heard your hurried footsteps. Also, a pair of butterflies, dancing in the bright moon flowers.
Responder: peanut butter popcorn-beginner level 4-5 2 1:47
Silence to the front
Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.
Silence to the front
Share a glass of water with you
It has a strong Qing Dynasty flavor.
From the bottom of my heart
Whether it's career or fate.
Silently say dream butterfly
Give you this life back.
This life and past lives
Both of them have passed away through the ages.