Send new cool, blow leaf yellow, and the sycamore crickets outside the window sing sadly.
The sycamore leaves are yellow, only the crickets blow haggard, and the night rain knocks on the window to fall into a dream.
The crickets chant new sentences, the sycamore reminisces about the old tour, and the cool moon is full of dreams in Yangzhou.
All the way to the evening breeze and willow silk, the sound of the plane tree in the middle of the night.
The night is getting cooler, the fragrance of osmanthus flowers is blowing, the leaves fall to know how much, and the tears are two lines.
The leaves fall and the night is vast, the autumn is long, and the bright moon and evening breeze are all over the ground and the osmanthus is cool.
A cricket autumn frost is cold, the night rain is cold, the weather is cold and a dream, and the evening breeze blows through the Yumen Pass.
The evening breeze blows the willow silk long, the moonlight is hazy and the night is getting cooler, and the sycamore crickets outside the window are rising.
Yuehuazi, people don't know, after shaking, when the crickets break their intestines.
The rain hits the sycamore at night, the cold crickets complain, the evening breeze does not dissociate people's minds, and the autumn sound is frequently sent into a dream.
Cricket grass singing leaves fall osmanthus fragrant, the weather is as cool as water, and the evening breeze sends frost.
The cry is long, the night is not young, a wisp of clear light is cool like water, and the evening breeze blows the fragrance of osmanthus.
One night the wind blows the sideburns, the half-round bright moon leaves fall to know the autumn meaning, and the crickets miss their hometown.
The night is cool at the beginning, the bleak evening wind urges the leaves to yellow, and the rain hits the sycamore and the cricket grass dies.
Full autumn pool, crickets in the sound of the evening breeze after the curtain.
Singing autumn light, the sycamore leaves are yellow, and the bright moon blows through the fragrance of osmanthus.
The night is cool, the willow bank evening breeze sycamore falls leaves, and the crickets sing the autumn light.
The rain hits the sycamore crickets and complains of sadness, not dissociating from people's minds, and falling into a cold dream.
I like to see the crickets behind the house, listen to the sound of the sycamore in front of the window, the night is as cool as water and moonlight, and sit in the small building to bask in the evening breeze.
The spring breeze is all born, the plum blossoms are the most affectionate, the snow in the north of the thousand mountains, and the independent bridge listens to the sound of rain.
Around the small bridge, let it be free, fragrant for thousands of miles, and the spring breeze is charming overnight.
The water is the most tranquil, the bridge smoke and rain building, three or two, the spring breeze does not know the sorrow.
A tree of plum blossoms in March, Yumen Pass, is still there, when to meet in Lingnan.
The spring breeze falls overnight and the snow is shaky, and the Lingnan is good in April, and the small bridge crosses the river alone.
The light car crosses the small bridge, the autumn color of Lingnan is enchanting, the fragrance is far away, and the spring breeze blows the jade flute.
There are many scenery in the south of the north and south of the Saibei River, swinging clear waves, welcoming guests with proud snow, and smiling and watching the spring breeze dance.
The spring breeze blows the willow branches one night, the plum blossoms are three lanes to provoke acacia, the Lingnan Saibei is full of amorous guests, and the old poems are chanted on the small bridge alone.
In the smoke and rain, the Lingnan River and the north are unattended, and the wind blows red.
It's another year to Lingnan, the willows are like smoke, and the plum blossoms fall to no one, just waiting for the spring breeze to send paper kites.
Three or two plum blossoms, the spring breeze provokes acacia, the small bridge is still there, and the smoke and rain in Lingnan.
Falling into a dream, the plum blossoms fall and the snow disappears, the mountains are green, and the day to cross the small bridge with you.
The small bridge and flowing water Lingnan peach and plum flower, three or two, the spring breeze sent me to the end of the world.
When it rains, the small bridge falls into the water and no one cares, laughing at me for being stupid.
Plum blossoms are proud of the snow since the loneliness, do not draw with the spring breeze, the independent bridge is less traveled, and there is still no branch in Lingnan.
The apricots are in full bloom, the plum blossoms on the small bridge by the stream welcome distant guests, and the spring breeze sends me to Yaotai.
Lingshuang blooms plum blossoms, spring breeze and rain moisten new sprouts, small bridges and flowing water are still there, Lingnan is my home.
Spring breeze and rain plum blossoms bloom all over the lake, and the flowing water in the south of the Modao Mountains is drawn in the picture.
The rain is murmuring, and the small bridge is falling to no one's attention, and it is in front of you.
The plum blossoms add elegant rhyme, the ruthless catkins dance in the spring breeze, the flowing water is still there, and the smoke and rain in Lingnan are not seen.
The spring breeze is warm and cold, laughing at the cold winter, Lingnan is as good as the north, and the independent bridge listens to the evening bell.
The spring rain is lovely, the wine is slightly drunk, and the new home is not still heard by Du Yusheng.
Revisit the double feeling of relatives, the new home is scattered and the old wine invites the bright moon, and the thousands of threads of love are the deceased.
The new home is the hometown, the old place recalls the vicissitudes of life, and the wine flag is displayed with joy and affection.
The bottle of wine meets cold and warm, and the new home of the bright moon in the old days is only for Yi.
Not self-contained, confidant and lovesick, although it is difficult to be a guest, always poetry.
In the old days, we admired the moon together, climbed the stairs together, and a glass of turbid wine was soft and soft.
The spring of the new home of the flower is just right, the rain is sunny at the beginning, the wine invites the bright moon, and the drunk chant poetry sends distant love.
The wine is three points of bright moonlit night, poetry is a wisp of blue clouds, and the new home of the swallow in the old days does not remember the year.
Sideburns are stained with frost, time is spent, crowds are surging, and the grass and trees in the wilderness are fragrant.
The old place is revisited with emotion, the new homes are scattered in the east of the ancient city, the wine flag is displayed to welcome the guests, and the laughter and song are goodbye.
The scenery from spring to eternal year is different, where to find a trace in the world