The struggle with the spring breeze surprised the flower seller. Swallows come and go, a few inches older, disturbing catkins one after another, stained with thin powder, laughing and pointing, throwing themselves into the mountains, riding incense far away, embracing all kinds of lofty ideals and lofty sentiments, and the teenagers are in a good mood. May this life be peaceful, and the wind will destroy the rain and refuse to retreat. I will see the glory of the wine, and then walk around like a knight.
A sword on the peak can make you drunk, and you don't care about human right and wrong. I had a good dream of sleeping on thousands of pillows, but I was stunned by the spring breeze. Swallows come and go, a few inches older, disturbing catkins one after another, dyed with a thin layer of powder, laughing at my advice, throwing themselves into the mountains, full of ambitions, young man.
I hope this life will end unscathed and the wind and rain will not retreat. I will see the flowers in the wine, take chivalry as my helmet, take my sword over the peaks, and get drunk with spring flowers and bright moons. It doesn't matter whether the world is right or wrong, it's another season for Liu. It's no longer the age. How to ask right or wrong, the spirit will match. Another generation of strip teenagers laughed and said that ordinary people are not my kind.
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1, everything comes to dream.
One year, the wind and snow brought wine to the throat, and the spirit of young people was romantic. It seems that there is no wave and no wind in the ancient well, and no one helps. The world walks alone in a clear or muddy world, and the world is stuck in dirt. Everyone asked me what I wanted, and there was no need to say anything about the mountains and rivers behind me. In order to comfort my teachers and friends, I looked back at a pair of souls. Finally, I found that the legend of the world of mortals rises and falls, but it is only one inch.
2. "Asked Begonia in the Rain at Night"
A white flute blew, singing and dancing continued, and the drizzle patted the oil-paper umbrella. Walking by the river, I heard who was dancing and singing softly, as well as the flapping folding fan, humming an ancient melody, looking at the distant lights blurred, propping up the boat, moving slowly in the breeze, looking at the Suzhou river bank, sporadic flashing lights, as if the old days reappeared in front of me, Suzhou.