Now listening to the rain monk Lu, the stars are already on his temples, and the joys and sorrows are always ruthless, and the next step is dripping into the morning.
Flowers still bloom every year, but they are different from year to year.
And secular things take turns, ancient, modern, back and forth.
Today, I came here again. I don't know where the girl went. Only the peach blossoms are still there, smiling in full bloom in the spring breeze.
Things are people, not everything, and tears flow first.
Li in the sad autumn scenery, a wanderer all the year round, lives alone on the high platform in today's illness. After all the hardships and hatred, the white hair is full, and the wine glasses are damaged.
I want to cross the Yellow River, but ice will block the ferry and Taihang Mountain will be covered with snow.
Suddenly I saw the house in front of me, and it was enough for me to freeze to death alone.
Nostalgia sings Defoe, and going to hometown looks like rotten science.
The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind is floating, and life experiences are ups and downs.
Time and tide wait for no man, but it must be cut into silk.
Hope to adopt