The first time, looking for Penglai, he refused to open it in front of the king for three days around the beam.
The red dust is all passers-by, the leaves in the sky fall with the flowing water, and the swallows go to the warbler to go around Liangshan.
Three days of swallows returning, flying spring comes again, where do not flowers bloom in the world.
Thousands of miles in the sky for three days without thinking of returning, the world has its own red dust several times sad.
The two feelings are linked, the red dust is a line, the sound around the beam is beautiful, and the meaning is lingering.
The red dust is reincarnated several times, not fragrant, and the flowers and leaves fall and the warbler sings around the beam.
Around the beam for three days, the swallow returns, the spring returns, there is no such scene in the world, and the red dust is not fragrant.
The snow flies in the sky, Mei Xianjue, the winding Liang Zhongyan is unknown, and everything in the world is full of poetry.
Sunny day, a thread, looking for old dreams, butterflies dancing in front of drunken flowers.
Hongchen dreamed of Jiangnan, the heavens and the earth were unbearable, the catkins were old in spring when they flew, and the swallows returned for three days around the beam.
When the purple swallow flies around the beam, the grass is green, and it is the most dream in the world to Liaoxi.
Flying all over the ground, around the sound of beams, how many sad tears in the world turned into a cloud of red dust.
The warm wind blows in April in the world, the red dust surrounds the beam to find the old master, and the peach blossoms fly in the water.
Entering the small garden, the birds on the branches talk lingeringly, and the smoke curls up the cicadas in the depths of the bushes.
The grass is fascinated, and the people are drunk in the sound of a few wisps of cooking smoke, and the butterflies come to perch.
The sunset is red, and in the small courtyard of the farmhouse, the birds are singing, the cicadas are singing, and the fruits are ripe and the trees are verdant.
Around the mountain beam, the butterfly dance flower fragrance is good in the depths of spring, and the wisps are accompanied by the sun.
All the way, the flowers and birds are pleasant, and they are surrounded by the farmhouse and greeted with a smile.
In the depths of the willow shade, the song of the warbler, a few wisps of cooking smoke surround the river, the spring is noisy in the sound of birds, and there are many bees in the flower fragrance array.
The twilight clouds are light, the chickens and dogs are crowing in the depths, the mountains in the forest are beautiful, and the dewdrops are shining in the flower fragrance path.
Spring is strong, drunk east wind, no one asks, and a wisp of cooking smoke enters the painting screen.
Green spring and autumn, singing endlessly, ethereal, there is Qionglou in the depths of the white clouds.
A light is bright in the depths of the white clouds, around the ancient city, people want to get drunk, and the moon rises in the flower fragrance array.
The smoke of cooking lingers in the depths of the forest, the spring is noisy in the sound of birds, and the fragrance of flowers leads the way to the end of the world.
The song of the birds is a song, the fragrance of flowers is dancing and composing poems, the depths of spring are good, and the smoke of cooking is moving around the painting.
Flowers and herbs are green and drunk tourists, pleasant to hear, a few cooking smoke drifts into the painting, and the bamboo forest is deep to find a soulmate.
In the depths of the white clouds is my home, a few wisps of cooking smoke accompanied by the sunset, people are drunk in the sound of birds, and butterflies are flying in the fragrance of flowers.
Around the small building, no one responds to the bird language in the depths of the bamboo forest, and the fragrance lingers.
The song of the warbler and the bird are sultry and drunk, and the most is the depth of spring, and the smoke is full of new poems.
In the overflowing small garden, birds and cicadas chirp in the green trees, a few wisps of cooking smoke surround the village houses, and the morning bell rings in the depths.
It is the hometown, a few wisps of cooking smoke into the sunset, the way back is far away, and the fragrance of flowers is long.
A few birds and flowers are intoxicating, the depths are good, and the smoke curls around the mountains and forests.
Drunk tourists, birds singing and singing and cooking smoke drift into the painting, looking for bosom friends.
The depths of the sea of words hide the splendor, when the smoke rises, there are people, the birds are singing in the spring, and the fragrance of flowers overflows the world.
Around the sunset, the birds in the depths of the white clouds flew away, and the fragrance of flowers all the way to the end of the world.
The birds are pleasing to the heart, the wild trails are fragrant and drunk, the depths of the Modao peach source are good, and there are bosom friends around.
Flowers, herbs, green cicadas, chirping in the late summer, a few wisps of smoke in the depths of the search for new poems.
Thousands of tears, parents are difficult to get together for a long time, and people's intestines are broken.
The red-sleeved dancing dress, the goddess scattering flowers and fragrance, the father and mother have nowhere to find, and there are tears in their hearts.
The cow girl magpie bridge meeting, I sighed that the road was long, looking at my father and mother thousands of miles away, lovesick and speechless tears.
A bowl of rice, full of clothes, poor fathers and old wives are merciful.
Banana tears fall flowers, father and mother are lonely and weak girls have nowhere to go, and where to send them with infatuation.
At the beginning of the youth, the lady sang and walked, and I didn't know that my father and mother were looking forward to the dawn.
The goddess scattered flowers and fairies went down to the mortal house, and her father and mother were puzzled by the world.
Walking to the end of the world, I don't see her in clothes, she is a stranger in another country, and her daughter is a flower.
Blowing flowers and tears like water, the son does not return, and the parents of the male farmer and the female weaver look forward to the return of the child.
The family is thousands of miles away from home, busy and far away, and the parents are in tears.
Who pities the weak girl and is amorous and bitter, sighs for the sorrow of the poor family, and wants to ask her father and mother to break off her tears.
also broke his bowels, tears flowed, looking at each other from afar, looking forward to the end of the world.
A pipa is full of tears, my father and mother have no choice but to part, and the men and women weave a thousand hardships, which is not as good as the song at home.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art