It is a modern thing to send boxers to the stove. Lu Xun's chicken is gum candy, and his clothes are fragrant. If there is nothing at home, there are only a few antelopes.
Off-year Wen Song Tianxiang Yan Shuo met with poverty, and Jiangnan worshipped off-year. Being old is happy, and life experience is death. It's snowing in Qian Shan, and it's day in Wan Li, Hong Fei. Going out is boundless, but I am at a loss.
After the new year, the seven laws of frost and wind are biting and lonely, and the door is closed. Returning the pen was also disturbed by the charm of the heart, and Jia Jie fell into Lao Hu Chan. The floating cup is just the best in poetry, and the thinking should be broad. I can't sleep at night. I look forward to it. I often send clothes to the poor.
There were two or three firecrackers outside the window of Sixiaonian Poetry (1). I was surprised that the Spring Festival had already begun. Say goodbye to me in the radial mirror, I don't wander around arm in arm.
(2) I have a dream to wander in the East China Sea and see Xiaomei Red every year. If I remember to report back, what can I do? You didn't mean it, I pity you.
(3) Look for white wine with green tea, but know that there is a way in life. I have three million poems. Who left me a flower?
(4) There are good times today, and the city is full of lights. Even though there is Cang Sang in the world, I stay at home in a dark place.
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