If it were in ancient times, I would go to see you.
I won't take this air-conditioned express train, but
Riding a little donkey,
Through the Woods and post roads at the foot of the mountain
Accordingly, the donkey's hoof kicked lightly.
This is the rhyme of a poem, isn't it?
A flat, fast-retreating expressway;
If it was in ancient times, crossing the river
Not a bridge that flashed in three minutes, but
A boat, plus a tipper in coir.
The river is wide and slaps the ship's side. Let me know.
A person with love in his heart, a frivolous heart.
Like a boat in the river.
If it were in ancient times, I would go to see you.
Not forty minutes, but at least one day, plus
pitch-dark night
I will pass through Jingkou and Guazhou in turn. ...
I will have enough time to write a poem for every trip.
If it was in ancient times, I might be a person who rushed for the exam.
You are a light-skinned woman, and your home is here.
Next to the posthouse, I leaned against the door and looked back.
Smell the plums, and I'll hang the poems on the wall, or
Write it on rice paper. When you receive a letter,
Haitang is just over half, isn't it?
When the keyboard is knocked, it takes less than a second.
It flew into your computer.
If it was in ancient times, I knew you.
Then don't be so fast
If the wind blows a flower, it must wait until spring.
Instead of now, open the phone to make an appointment for dinner, together.
Cheerfulness and willfulness of the engine
I was in Nanjing just now, and in a flash.
The lights in Yangzhou are already in sight.
If it was in ancient times, a hug
It will consume a scholar's excitement and expectation all day.
rather than
It's a few minutes now.
I mean, at this rate,
This is a bit confusing,
Per hour 130 km, and
The diameter of love
How long can a fast-spinning wheel be?
Everything is so simple, there are no more secrets.
If it was in ancient times, we might have
More is anxiety and waiting. But it's also a
there will be
Slow happiness
Like peach blossoms in the street, it won't be for the sake of
The neon of the city is pounding.
Like purple plum, camphor, hibiscus and butter. ...
So many trees are like the Song Dynasty.
It's still like the Ming dynasty.
Old love, so stubborn
Never change with time.
Adjust your pattern.