The sons and daughters of China show their majestic posture on the earth, and their heroic names are loyal to the soul of the eternal poems.
Show the majestic wind, the momentum, the martyrs are loyal to the sun and the moon, and the annals of British history are in the sky.
died young and tearful, the descendants of the martyrs and loyal souls have many ambitions, and China is full of Kunlun.
Go to Quantai, the martyrs are famous for eternity, and the descendants of China are not Penglai.
I don't know the autumn, thousands of miles of Shenzhou are famous in the annals of history, and the river flows.
The pale yellow, the sons are ambitious, and the loyal souls of the martyrs will last forever.
A piece of Ying, loyal soul and hot-blooded Chinese heroes, the sun and moon in the state.
A generation of loyal souls is full of mighty spirits, many heroes in China, and few sages.
The Chinese millennium is the same grief and indignation, the Shenzhou thousands of miles are full of Chanjuan, the British name is immortal in history, and the martyrs are loyal to paper money.
Everywhere is romantic, the Chinese civilization is known as Jiuzhou, the loyal soul is known to the sun and the moon, and the heroic name runs through the spring and autumn.
Ying has passed away, forever, soaring day, I like to see the spring of China.
Flying for 60 years, the land has changed its face, passed down through the ages, and the martyrs have become cuckoos.
A reed sails through all beings, realizes the true scriptures, all are empty, and the sea of suffering is boundless.
Under the Bodhi tree, the world is benevolent, the bitter sea is boundless, and the red dust sees through right and wrong.
Hongchen is busy, sighing at the vicissitudes of life in the sea of bitterness, purifying the world's guests, and spending time under the Bodhi tree.
The bitter sea of life is a few hesitations, a dream, Cipu crosses the three thousand worlds, and it is good to enjoy the shade under the Bodhi tree.
Cihang Pudu recites the Buddha, under the Bodhi tree, if there is true love in the red dust, the sea of bitterness is boundless.
Ruthless things, why bother Cihang is at a loss and will eventually have a shore, and it will be clear from the self.
Hongchen sighed in a dream of vicissitudes, tears and two lines, where to go to cross Cihang, and the words under the Bodhi tree were desolate.
Boundless crossing this body, Hongchen dreams a few times true, Cihang Pudu 3,000 worlds, people under the Bodhi tree.
Crossing the world, there is no trace under the Bodhi tree, the truth is there, why should the sea of suffering ask the cause of the effect.
Under the Bodhi tree, Cihang crosses the waves, and there will eventually be a shore, and Hongchen sees how Nai is.
How many things, the sea of suffering is at a loss, and all sentient beings are crossed, who is stupid.
Dazed and bitter in the sea, looking back at the red dust and dreaming, Cihang purifies all living beings, and recites Mida under the Bodhi tree.
Enlightenment, everything under the Bodhi tree is illusory, and the sea of suffering is boundless.
Meditation under the tree, Pudu Ci sailing thousands of miles of boats, the bitter sea is boundless and there is a shore, see through what year.
Thousands of red dust and bitter sea cross the maze, Cihang Pudu tree under the enlightenment of Zen heart.
The sea crosses the common people, and the hearts of all people are red and enlightened.
Pudu sentient beings wish, enlighten the Buddha under the Bodhi tree, if there is true love, the sea of suffering is boundless and idle.
Wandering under the tree for a long time, crossing the world, the bitter sea is boundless and there will be a shore, and the red dust can see through and smile.
Many ups and downs, all the waste, Cihang Pudu tree under the recitation.
The sea of bitterness is full of thousands of waves, where is the red dust Cihang, and the reason is asked under the Bodhi tree.
Pudu sentient beings are the same, Bodhi is empty, and Mo Dao is looking for immortals in the sea of red dust and bitterness.
A tree of Bodhi Pudu is destined to be a person, and the red dust of the three thousand bitter seas is not stained.
The hatred is not gone, and the three thousand realms are allowed to be free, and only peaches are planted.
Pudu Ji vicissitudes, short and long, if the red dust is boundless, let me fly.
I am a scattered immortal in Penglai, looking for a peach source, there are dreams that are illusory, and I hope that the name of the milk will be passed down from generation to generation.
Heaven and earth are tied by a thread, the two worlds of immortals and mortals are all Chanjuan, and the milk name is passed down to the world and the dream is sweet.
A dream, Wan Gufang, nowhere to find, is a good son.
The name of the world heirloom, the soul dream of Jiangnan into the drawing, the most is the fairy town scenery is good, the world is full of reputation.
Don't envy the mandarin ducks in the sky, and the red dust has a dream milk name for a hundred years.
The two do not contradict, since Fangfei, the name of the milk is called spring, and the butterfly flies in the dream.
The Red Chamber has been dreaming for thousands of years, and the name of the third world does not know where to go, leaving a grudge in the world.
Out of Cuiwei, the dream soul often surrounds the old mountain, and the fairy wind road bones are clothed in the world.
On April days, the peach and willow green evoke the spring breeze in front of you.
The blue bird makes him ashamed of his name, and the immortals are less broken in the world.
I don't remember the year, and the dream soul is still in the bones of the Dao, interspersed as a cave.
The mandarin ducks in the sky on earth do not admire immortals, and their names have been passed down through the ages, and they have been held for a hundred years.
In the dream, the moon is vaguely under the moon, the name of the milk is still lingering in the ears, where is the fairy wind and bones, only to see the immortal love in the world.
Milk name in the bottom of my heart, every time I hold my mother's love in my dream, where is the bone now, leaving a piece of heaven in the world.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art