Seek a domineering and self-created seven-melody ancient poem

In the clear autumn of Chutian thousands of miles away, the water goes with the sky. From a distance, I can look at it, offer sadness and hatred, and make a hairpin. On the roof of the building at sunset, you can see the drift of Jiangnan. After seeing Wu Gou, I photographed the railing all over, and no one would attend.

Don't say chop up the perch to cook delicious food. When the west wind blows it, I wonder if that one has come back? Ask the field and ask the family, shy to see, Liu Lang is talented. Unfortunately, the years are fleeting, and the tree is so sad! I beg someone to invite those girls who sing in red and green to wipe away the tears of the hero's frustration for me!