He is good at drum clouds and Se Se, and often hears about the spirit of the Emperor. Feng Yi dances by himself, and Chu Ke is unbearable. The deep sad melody, even the hard stone is moved and sad; The sonorous, sonorous tone of the music, the penetration is so strong, has been flying to the lofty place. Cangwu came to complain, and Angelica dahurica moved fragrant. Running water spreads to Xiangpu, and hentai crosses Dongting. The music quiet, but did not see the drum se goddess of water, the river on the dissipation of smoke, revealing a few peaks, green and charming.
Xiang Ling Gu Se, written by Chen Ji, Wang Yong, Zhuang Ruone and Wei Cui
The goddess Pan Yao Se, the ancient temple Yanye Pavilion. Chu Yun came to the city, and Hunan water helped to clear the city. Wonderful indications are intimate, and numerous sounds enter the ghost. A shot of crescent moon is white, and several songs are green. It's time to adjust the bitterness and complain, but it's time to stay away from Di Zi's spirit. If you can enjoy the lingering sound, try to play it for you.
Lingjiang Xian Qin Guan
A thousand miles away in Xiaoxiang, Lanpu, Lanradial used to be.
the moon wind will make the dew clear. The microwave is still, and the stars are soaked in cold water for a day.
I'm sad when I'm alone in danger, and I've heard from afar that I'm a princess.
the new voice contains all the ancient and modern feelings. The music quiet, but did not see the drum se goddess of water, the river on the dissipation of smoke, revealing a few peaks, green and charming.
Li Pingyi cited Li He
Wu Sishu Tong Zhang Gaoqiu, and the empty mountains were frozen with clouds. Jiang E cries for Motome's sorrow, while Li Ping plays with China. Kunshan jade broken phoenix calls, hibiscus cries and fragrant orchid laughs. In front of the twelve gates, the cold light melts, and the twenty-three silk moves the purple emperor. Nu Wa tried to make up the sky by refining stones, and the stone broke the ground to stir up the autumn rain. Dream into the sacred mountain to teach the gods, and the old fish dances with thin waves and dumplings. Wu sleeps and leans against laurel trees, showing his feet and flying obliquely to wet cold rabbits.
[Fa Qu-Mei Lie Sheng, Zheng Hua Sheng also] Tang Bai Juyi
Fa Qu is a big song, and it has a lot to celebrate. People with the eternal emblem dance and chant, and
French music and French music dance. Politics and the world are full of sound, and people in Kaiyuan are happy and healthy.
the music of the French opera is grand, and the celebration of the grand opera is boundless. Zhongzong Su Zong revived Hongye, and
Tang Zuo revived thousands of leaves. French songs and French songs are combined with foreign songs, and foreign sounds and evil voices are mixed.
If you make a mess of it, Hu Chen will commit a crime in the palace next year. It's a way to know the law, and it's a Chinese style.
If you can judge the sound and communicate with the government. First, it is wrong to refer to Huqu, and it is impossible to distinguish between ups and downs and sorrows.
I hope that my teeth will be broad and clear, so as not to let the barbarians and the summer intrude.
[Jade sounds like music] Tang. Liu Wei
Jade knocking can stop, and people's words are in harmony with music. The numerous sounds have suddenly disappeared, and the elegant rhyme is clear.
Pei wants to stop walking, and the spring doubts the sound of the night. The end of the song is no different from listening, and the sound is very sentimental.
it's hard to imitate a terte, but it's hard to change the name of exquisiteness. Kunshan, if available, is proud of it.
[Yang Liuzhi Ci] Tang Liu Yuxi
Stuffed with plum blossom and strong flute, Huainan Guishu Hill Ci.
Please don't play the former songs, but listen to the new version of Yang Liuzhi.
[Song Yue Wen Sheng] Tang Liu Xiyi
When he leaves Shandong in the month, the moon is bright and the mountains are empty. Mountain people love the clear scenery and radiate the autumn wind.
it's not clear when the wind stops at night, and the grass and insects sing all night. Immortals are invisible, and they approach blowing sheng by the moon.
crimson lips suck aura, and jade fingers adjust the true voice. What is the true sound? Three mountains are full of love for cranes.
In the past, I'd like to hear this song. Today, I'm lying in Song Cen, and I'm glad to hear you.
Immortals enjoy my affairs, singing songs and remembering my heart.
[Whispering flute in L.A. on a spring night] Tang Li Bai
The sound of Yu Di flies in the dark, and the spring breeze fills L.A.
I heard "Folding Willow" in this nocturne, and no one can miss home!
[Presenting Flowers to Qing] Tang Du Fu
There are many silk tubes in Jincheng, half in the river and half in the clouds.
this song should only be heard in the sky, and it can be heard several times on earth.
[The public in the book often plays elegant music] Tang. Anonymous
Chen Jinshi, a musician, lingers on the public. People who play the sound are absolutely speechless, and the rhyme is clear.
change according to the law, and show that birds and animals are the same. When you are virtuous, you will observe the wind when you cultivate the ceremony.
within the three scales of "Shengshou", Tian Huan played nine times. Lonely and high-pitched, Youzi is full of wisdom.
Pipa Trip
-Tang Bai Juyi
I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River, the maple leaves are blooming in autumn. I, the host, had dismounted, my guest had boarded his boat, and we raised our cups and wished to drink-but, alas, there was no music. For all we had drunk we felt no joy and were parting from each other, when the river widened mysteriously toward the full moon. We had heard a sudden sound, a guitar across the water, host forgot to turn back home, and guest to go his way. We followed where the melody led and asked the player's name, the sound broke off...then reluctantly she answered. We moved our boat near hers, invited her to join us, summoned more wine and lanterns to recommence our banquet. Yet we called and urged a thousand times before she started toward us, still hiding half her face from us behind her guitar. ...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings, we could feel what she was feeling, even before she played. Each string a meditation, each note a deep thought, it seems that he is not satisfied with his life. She knit her brows, flexed her fingers, then began her music, little by little letting her heart share everything with ours. She brushed the strings, twisted them slow, swept them, plucked them, first the air of The Rainbow Skirt, then The Six Little Ones. The large strings hummed like rain, the small strings whispered like a secret. Hummed, whispered-and then were intermingled, like a pouring of large and small pearls into a plate of jade. Guan Yingying speaks with a slippery bottom, we heard a brook bitterly sob along a bank of sand. The water spring is cold and astringent, and the doubt will never stop. Into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament, told even more in silence than they had told in sound. A silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water, and out leapt armored horses and weapons that clashed and smote. And, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke, and all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk. East boat and west boat are silent, and we saw the white autumnal moon enter the river's heart. Thoughtfully put it in the string, she rose and smoothed her clothing and, formal, courteous. Told us how she had spent her girlhood at the capital, living in her parents' house under the Mount of Toads. And had mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, with her name recorded first in the class-roll of musicians. Qu Ba once taught the good to subdue, her beauty the envy of all the leading dancers. How noble youths of Wuling had lavishly competed, and numberless red rolls of silk been given for one song. And skirts the colour of blood been spoiled with stains of wine, China. Season after season, joy had followed joy, autumn moons and spring winds had passed without her heeding. Till first her brother left for the war, and then her aunt died, and evenings went and evenings came, and her beauty faded. Cold horse in front of the door, so that finally she gave herself as wife to a merchant. Who, prizing money first, careless how he left her, had gone, a month before, to Fuliang to buy tea. And she had been tending an empty boat at the river's mouth, no company but the bright moon and the cold water. And sometimes in the deep of night she would dream of her triumphs, and be wakened from her dreams by the scalding of her tears. Her very first guitar-note had started me sighing, now, having heard her story, I was sadder still. We are both unhappy -- to the sky's end, we meet. We understand. What does acquaintance matter?. I came, a year ago, away from the capital, and am now a sick exile here in Jiujiang. There is no music in Xunyang, neither string nor bamboo, for a whole year. My quarters, near the River Town, are low and damp, with bitter reeds and yellowed rushes all about the house. And what is to be heard here, morning and evening?, the bleeding cry of cuckoos, the whimpering of apes. On flowery spring mornings and moonlit autumn nights, I have often taken wine up and drunk it all alone. Of course there are the mountain songs and the village pipes, but they are crude and-strident, and grate on my ears. And tonight, when I heard you playing your guitar, I felt as if my hearing were bright with fairymusic. Do not leave us. Come, sit down. Play for us again., and I will write a long song concerning a guitar.. ...Moved by what I said, she stood there for a moment, then sat again to her strings-and they sounded even sadder. Although the tunes were different from those she had played before, the feasters, all listening, covered their faces. But who of them all was crying the most?, this Jiujiang official. My blue sleeve was wet.
—— Tang Han Yu
is affectionate with his children, and resents you. Bold and unconstrained as the wind, the flag is who is singing, a warrior like to wield his sword and fight against the king. Clouds and catkins have no roots, and the world is wide and far away. There are hundreds of birds, and suddenly I see a lonely phoenix. Cliff cliffs press people to climb, the dark valley collapse under the collapse of a thunderous sound. I am ashamed that I have ears and a pair of music. I am too ignorant to appreciate music. Listen to your music of the piano suddenly rose, shaking people to take a seat is low. In panic, I stretched out my hand to block the chin, tears flow ah early already surging into the orbit. Clever and sincere, there is no ice charcoal for my intestines.
—— Tang Li He
Wu Si Shu Tong Zhang Gaoqiu, the blank clouds are condensed but not flowing. Jiang E cries for Motome's sorrow, while Li Ping plays with China. Kunshan jade broken phoenix calls, hibiscus cries and fragrant orchid laughs. In front of the twelve gates, the cold light melts, and the twenty-three silk moves the purple emperor. Nu Wa tried to make up the sky by refining stones, and the stone broke the ground to stir up the autumn rain. Dream into Kunshan to teach the gods, and the old fish dance with thin waves and dumplings. Wu sleeps and leans against laurel trees, showing his feet and flying obliquely to wet cold rabbits.
Listening to Yingshi Qinge p>—— Tang Lihe
Biepuyun belongs to Guihuazhu, and there is a double phoenix language in the string of Shu State. The hibiscus leaves fall in autumn and leave, and the King of Yue starts to visit Tianmu at night. Dark Pei Qing minister knocks on water jade, crossing the sea, moths lead white deer. Who will see the sword going to the Long Bridge, and who will see the immersion topic Chun Zhu. Monk Zhu stood in front of us, and the truth in the Vatican Palace stood in awe. The guqin pagoda is eight feet long, and the old tree in Fuyang is not a tung grandson. The smell of strings in the cool pavilion surprised the sick patients, and the medicine bag temporarily bid farewell to the dragon beard. Please sing a song and ask your singer to sing a song. What good is it for a courtesy officer to humble himself?