Outside the pavilion, beside the ancient road, the grass is blue. The evening breeze blows the flute, and the sunset is beyond the mountain! The horizon, the horizon, intimate friends are half scattered. A pot of turbid wine will make you happy, so don't go to Meng Han tonight.
Qin Yi's "Li E Qing Zhao"
Lingaoge,
Ye Ping in the chaotic mountains is full of smog.
The smoke is thin,
When the rooster crows and returns,
Smell the horn at dusk.
Fragrance dies, lingering fragrance,
The west wind urges the phoenix tree to fall.
Wutongluo,
It's autumn again,
Still lonely.
Speak slowly and softly, Li Qingzhao
Looking around, lonely and sad.
It's the hardest to stop breathing when it's warm and cold.
Three cups and two glasses of wine, how can you beat him? The wind is rushing at dawn.
Guo Yan is very sad, but this is an old acquaintance.
Yellow flowers are piled all over the floor. Who can break it now?
Looking out the window, how can you be black alone!
Indus is raining in Mao Mao, dripping at dusk.
This time, what a sad sentence!
Du Fu in Spring
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested.
Sad state, can not help but burst into tears, amazing birds, leaving sorrow and hate.
The war lasted for more than half a year, and letters from home were rare, with a hundred thousand gold.
Twisting with melancholy, scratching my head and thinking, the more I scratch my white hair, I can hardly insert a hairpin. Tai Zhengxiao listened to the rain, and Guang Zhi listened to the rain.