Graceful south of the Yangtze River, charming Qiantang rain. Borrow a touch of ripples on the West Lake, and the soft moonlight, paint a beautiful picture. Pick up the fragrance of the sleeves in the long river of time, nestle in the verdant lakes and mountains, and bloom a faint fragrance in the bottom of your heart. Counting the imprints on the Xilang Bridge, passing through the long white embankment and green willows, pillowing the smoke and rain of the oil wall incense car, looking at the Sujin water sleeves, the silk rain flying flowers, and the thousands of years of waiting on the side of the Xilang Bridge.
The boat is looking for the best place in Xiling", and the string song water organ is eternal. Reincarnation in this "West Village Calling Ferry", or the green shirt, riding a green skull, two sleeves elegant, gazing at the grace under the oil and blue fragrance car, with my shining eyes, affectionately look forward to you. You rolled up your skirt lightly from the thousand-year-old ink painting scroll and came to sing. Singing all the way, from the ancient white causeway and green willows, swaying with overflowing fragrance, floating in a dream.
A touch of spring love rouge, peach petal petal red. For you, spit out the words gently, a song;"The concubine rode the oil wall car, and Lang rode the green horse. Where to get together?Under the pines and cypresses of Xiling. "From then on, Yun Shu water sleeves, light song Qiantang, boiling wine incense burner, Su Yue Qinghui, play in the water and clouds. Graceful and charming, bright as smoke, laughter and incense, high mountains and flowing water, and the cold wind condensing in the west.
The leaves are pale, and the white dew is frost;The so-called Iraqi people are on the water side. "Fireworks splash, grass warblers fly. I have come back to the water, floating into your eyes, embedded in your picture. As a result, there is an additional suave son on the side of the Sirlang Bridge. In this beautiful picture, the emerald green in my eyes crushed me and became a butterfly, and the fragrant fragrance intoxicated me, becoming a peach blossom and a willow leaf, living in the soft waves of your eyes.
Stroke a song like the murmuring of water, Qianxun Fang is slow. The playing and singing of this finger is like a dream, like a pine, and the sound is continuous, and the love is endless. The breeze slid down the slight coolness of the fingertips, and in the end, I couldn't hide the secret in my heart. The world is flashy and light, the water and clouds are ethereal, and it is difficult to tell the dust after farewell. A volume of tea is a book incense place, Xiling Yuan, and the mirror pavilion listens to the rain. To the lonely mountain, do not provoke the red dust, on the side of the Xileng Bridge, the moss is all over the ground, the clouds and smoke cross the green willow tops to cover the moonlight on the branches, and a waning moon is torn away by the wind, whispering shallow sadness.
Hold a handful of smoke and rain in Qiantang, send a message to Xiling, a butterfly dream, a cloud splash ink, a piece of paper Xuanyan, Lan Ruocheng, a clear word, ethereal poetry. Holding the slender hand, smelling the fragrance of orchid and plum, embracing the pulse and veins gently, complaining of the quiet feelings, the sorrow of parting, and the warm fragrance of nephrite. Love is also long, and hatred is also quiet. Thousands of years of waiting, in the back of the withering time of the West Cold wind and rain, in the fragments of fragments of Feihong, stretched so long, so long, so ......long
Where is the incense car of the six dynasties of gold powder, and the talented generation of green mounds still exists." Peerless elegance, who will solve the heart of the wind and the moon?A bottle of lake moon, but also a fresh breeze. Standing in the present life of the long river of history, watching the other side of the flowers blooming, through the smoke and rain soaked in the thousands of years, the lights are dim, and the people of Iraq are getting farther and farther away. Walking in Su Xiaoxiao's footprints, I saw Sirloin again, still so clear and gentle.
The light and moon shadows should be photographed, and the jade bone ice muscle is not cold. "Little lonely mountain, wind and rain, twilight like smoke, white clouds like fog, spring scenery is like this, the old people have been thousands of miles. Standing on the bank of the ancient Xilin Bridge, listening to the murmur of the smoke and rain in Qiantang (West Lake), it seems to tell the ancient legend of beauty and poignancy. "Although the plum blossoms are arrogant, how dare they fight the spring cold?If it is more red and white, you must look at it with blue eyes!"Abandon the glitz of the turbid world, and enjoy the fame of the peerless generation. The green mountains are faint, the lake is sparkling, the willow leaves are bleak, and the smoke and rain are continuous.
Standing in the cold and thin wind, listening to the smoke and rain to tell about the death. The thousands of years of smoke and rain seem to tell the lingering of splashing ink and danqing, telling the soft sigh in the long scroll of ink, and telling the beautiful legend by the Xilang Bridge. Every drop of rain seems to tell the poignant beauty of a little suffocating love, and every drop of rain seems to depict the graceful demeanor of a little talent. "The green mountains have ink and autumn paintings, and the green water has no strings and ten thousand guqins. ”
Born in Xiling, died in Xiling, buried in Xiling, and lived up to the good landscape of his life. The fragrant soul is sirloin, and the elegance is passed down for thousands of yearsThe ancient Sirlang Bridge has long been unable to see the red flowers in the sky and the butterflies are fluttering. Facing the continuous drizzle, a wisp of fragrant soul, in the center of the ink, bursting out of the dark and sad tear marks are just like small thousand-year-old teardrops, dripping on the lake and mountains, moistening the willows on the white embankment full of vicissitudes.
Indifferent songs often whisper, the end of the world is gone, the words are given poems and books, and the ink rhyme is fragrant;Yaju Xileng counts the mirror pavilion, the clear water is even the pavilion, the piano and chess are accompanied by singing and dancing, all pay the spring breeze.