Throughout the ages, poetry can express a person's emotions, and poetry can also describe the beauty of natural scenery. Poetry can reveal the beauty and ugliness of the world. The following are beautiful ancient poems compiled by me for everyone to enjoy.
1. The night is long, the green lotus moon is full of red makeup, the peach blossom face, under the bodhisattva, the white pistils become flowing light.
2. Maybe it was the marriage in the previous life, maybe it was the fate in the next life, and we met in this life by mistake.
3. Listen to the spring rain in the small building all night, and sell apricot flowers in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty.
4. Little pity is playing the pipa alone, thinking about the world, unwilling to paint the big house, the spring breeze blooms flowers on its own!
5. When will we know each other when we miss each other? Here and now Embarrassed at night.
6. The dock is dust-free and the water is full of love. The lovesickness is far away from the city. The autumn clouds linger and the frost flies late, leaving the withered lotuses to listen to the sound of rain.
7. Even though my splendor has faded, I will still protect you on the other side. The night rain dyes the sky and water blue.
8. Whose loneliness covers my gorgeous clothes, whose gorgeous clothes cover my shoulders.
9. The world is drunk, and the love of this life is lost in dreams. The world is crazy, and the love in the world will not regret it for three lifetimes.
10. At the two ends of life, we stand on the shore of each other.
11. Always in the inadvertent year, I look back to the other side, even though I find that the situation is long.
12. The dust is crushed in an instant, like nothingness, and the bamboo leaves are brewing with bitterness.
13. It was commonplace at that time to cook books and get rid of the fragrance of tea.
14. Finally, the misty rain from the south of the Yangtze River covered the world, and Rong Hua thanked her, but it was just a scene.
15. Just looking back at you makes me miss you.
16. Destiny comes and goes just like a dream, and there is no trace when you wake up from the dream.
Seventeen. A season of flowers blooming and fragrance on the streets, a season of sadness and sorrow on the pillow.
18. Let him be pure and turbid in everything, and he will fall into reincarnation just because of your smile.
Nineteen, people's affection has become less affectionate, and now they are really not affectionate.
20. When autumn passes and spring comes, who will pity the wind and lotuses in Quyuan? The youth is white, but it is just a fleeting life.
21. The autumn wind passes through the dust, between the clouds and the water, silent and silent, staying in the world of mortals, waiting for an agreement.
Twenty-two. Accompanying you to cook snow and make tea, we will travel to the end of the world in white; accompany you to the lights of thousands of houses, and return home after the moon sets.
Twenty-three, if you are in full bloom, the breeze will come, if your heart is ups and downs, your smile will be peaceful.
Twenty-four. In the vast space of time and space, in the vast sea of ??people, when I meet you, don’t miss it and don’t forget it.
Twenty-five. In the dream, all the flowers have fallen, but the feeling is still lingering. The meaning is unforgettable. Although the string is broken, the music still sings.
Twenty-six, I asked the flowers with tears in my eyes and said nothing, and the red flowers flew across the swing.
Twenty-seven, I raise my glass and get drunk alone. After drinking the snow, I feel confused and one year older.
Twenty-eight. I raise my glass and get drunk alone. After drinking the snow, I feel at a loss for another year. I just want to look back at you.
Twenty-nine, watch the time quietly, waiting for the passing of time.
Thirty. I send you a song, regardless of whether people gather or disperse at the end of the song.
Thirty-one, several episodes of lamentation, several lifetimes of joys and sorrows, it’s ridiculous that I can’t help but have my destiny.
Thirty-two. When will I be able to fall asleep and pick up my pen, feeling confused and confused about how difficult it is to paint?
Thirty-three, the flowers wither and the dream is desolate, the beauty of the world is gone forever.
Thirty-four, the lights are shining, the voices are dim, and the songs can’t stop the flames of the troubled times.
Thirty-five, when all the floating flowers and waves are gone, I will be alone with you.
Thirty-six. From now on, the mountains and rivers will never meet again.
Thirty-seven. This feeling can be recalled later, but it was already at a loss at the time.
Thirty-eight. The street is long and the fireworks are numerous. You turn on the light and look back. The short pavilion is short, the world is rolling, I sigh again.
Thirty-nine. I wanted to get up and leave, but my shadow fell into the world.
Forty, I will use my three lives of fireworks to exchange your confusion for the rest of your life.
Forty-one, I am young, and my time is spent.
42. The street is long and the fireworks are numerous. You turn on the lamp and look back.
43. In the end, who broke the string and caused the flowers to fall on the shoulders, leaving you in a trance
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Forty-four, how many beauties are haggard, how many lovesicknesses are broken, only the blood stained with ink and the fragrance of ink are left to cry in the graves.
Forty-five. The vast land can be destroyed with one sword, where will the bustling music and songs fall. Leaning against the clouds, thousands of pots hide my loneliness, even if others laugh at me in vain.
Forty-six. Let him be pure and turbid in everything, and he will fall into reincarnation just because of your smile.
Forty-seven, I send you a song, no matter where the song ends, people gather or disperse.
Forty-eight, who burns the smoke and disperses the vertical and horizontal ties.
Forty-nine, listen to the strings break, break the three thousand obsessions. The falling flowers are obliterated, and the wind is obliterated. If the flower is pity, it falls on whose fingertips.
Fifty, there are trees in the mountains, but the trees have branches, and my heart is happy for you, but you don’t know it.
Fifty-one, whoever forgets each other will forget first, the overthrown country is the homeland. Ling Ling refused to play, and her shadow was startling.
Fifty-two. In the past, there were high-rise buildings where people sang in the morning and sang in the evening, and there were dancing sleeves that captivated the city and the country.
Fifty-three, when all the floating flowers and waves are gone, I will be alone with you.
Fifty-four. Once the spring goes, the beauties grow old, and the flowers fall and people die.
Fifty-five, the still water flows deep, and the Sheng plays songs; the clouds and sunshine in the three lives are full of joys and sorrows.
Fifty-six. The lights are shining, the voices are dim, and the songs are endless.
Fifty-seven. Like a beautiful family, the years pass by like a fleeting time. We can’t go back to the past, but we can’t go back to the beginning.
Fifty-eight, dark clouds cover the moon, there are no traces of people, it is indescribable to be so lonely.
Fifty-nine, this time I left you, it was wind, rain, and night; you smiled, I waved my hand, and a lonely road spread to both ends.
Sixty. As time goes by, love never ends. The heart is like a double mesh with thousands of knots in it.