Drunk Fangfei, reflecting Cuiwei, bees flying butterflies and dancing Yiren look forward to the return of the king.
The first branch of Dongjun, no one asked in the depths of the butterfly flying bee dance, only Fang Fei fell asleep late.
The east wind willow flew, the explanation sent the spring back, and Fang Fei couldn't bear to go back in the depths of Cuiwei.
In the depths of Cuiwei, the flowers are all sunset, and the most is the spring breeze and catkins flying all over the sky.
Spring fragrant, green water reflects the green green, butterflies dance among the flowers, and look forward to the return of the king.
Branches fall everywhere, for whom are you busy, Cui Wei deep and shallow Fang Fei fell asleep.
A river with clear water and white clouds flying, sending guests back, where is Cuiwei, and the peach blossom source is full of fragrant flowers.
The sound of birds in the depths of Cuiwei is sparse, and the fragrant flowers are fascinated all the way, and the most is the spring breeze catkins flying low.
Send Fangfei, dye cuiwei, spread good news, bloom and relieve sorrow.
I will not regret returning to the field, how can I rest when I fly Huang Tengda, find a secluded realm in the depths of Cuiwei, and see all the flowers in my eyes.
The spring breeze blows the flowers and the swallows return, and the most amorous is to accompany you all the way back.
Wangcui Wei, is Fangfei, the east wind does not dissociate from people's will, blowing down the poplar flowers for snow flying.
In April, Fangfei returned for the first time, and the butterflies and flowers in the depths of Cuiwei were drunk, and they didn't understand when the spring breeze would return.
A dream is far away, the wild geese fly south through the clouds, and the deep beauty of Cuiwei is lonely.
The rain is flying, who is detached from the people Cuiwei, smiling Fangfei.
As far as the fragrance is gone, the green mountains reflect the green and slight, and the swallows fly low and do not solve the spring return.
The swallow returns, whose daughter is in the depths of the spring breeze, and the Philippines will accompany me back.
The green mountains and green waters reflect the building in the west, and the dogs are all passing by, sweeping the dust.
The autumn wind blows yellow leaves, the twilight rain rolls up the white clouds, the sunset is infinitely good, and the green mountains are still shining.
There are white clouds in the world, the autumn wind and yellow leaves are full of everything, where to go west, thousands of miles of green mountains and a wisp of soul.
Leave the evening sunshine, reflect the red glow, drift away, a white cloud is my home.
The water accompanies the king, the sun shines in the evening, drifts into a dream, and the yellow leaves fall silently all over the slope.
Yellow leaves are flying and spring, looking for bosom friends, infinitely good, green waters and green mountains send beautiful women.
The white clouds have no intention of returning to the void, and the sunset is red like blood, and I don't know where the green mountains are.
The sunset reflects the red water, the green mountains reflect in the blue waves, the yellow leaves drift away, and only the white clouds walk freely.
The green mountains and green waters are suitable, reflecting the blue pool, a few white clouds drift into the painting, and the yellow leaves of the slope are completed into poems.
The yellow leaves are empty and longing, the white clouds have no intention of wandering, the sunset is gone, and the green mountains are alone.
It is still not dispersed, where do the yellow leaves in front of the steps go west, and the mountain is red.
The sunset wants to dye the poetry, the painting is strong, the yellow leaves float thousands of miles with the wind, and the white clouds accompany me to walk a thousand times.
The green mountains leave the evening sun, I send the sunset with the flowing water, and the white clouds do not dissociate from people's minds, and they fly into sleep.
All over the sky, where is a white cloud planted, infinitely good, the green mountains are still smiling.
In the depths of the white clouds, there is a lot of gold, infinitely good, and the green mountains still shine on Dan's heart.
The sunset is red, the green water and green mountains fall to the ground with the wind, dancing in the sky.
The green mountains outside the city still bring rain, the birds return to the forest at sunset, there are no traces in the depths of the white clouds, and the yellow leaves are full of gold.
In another autumn, where will the white clouds and dogs go west, and the green waters and green mountains will stay.
In the depths is my home, the yellow leaves are scattered and the flowers are all over the ground, the sunset of Mo Dao is infinitely good, and the green water reflects the red glow.
The green mountains are red at sunset, and the yellow leaves are still in love with the wind.
The water enters the secluded forest, a touch of white clouds floats on the ridge, and the heart of the river falls.
The yellow leaves are full of China, the white clouds are harvested, the sunset is infinitely good, and the green mountains are immortal and the water flows forever.
When will the dog rest, another autumn, the sunset of Mo Dao is infinitely good, and the green mountains are still flowing.
It's good and beautiful, reflecting the sunset, and the yellow leaves are floating in the depths of my home.
The green water reflects the red glow, where does the sunset and white clouds go, and the wind blows the yellow leaves all over Beijing.
Blowing a hundred, the prosperous gentleman does not know, and the wanderer thinks of returning thousands of miles to send hometown poems.
Fame and fortune are full of tears, and the moon falls and the rain is dreaming.
Late in dreaming, when the moon is shining, and then the autumn wind is cold, who knows.
When the two sideburns are stumbling, the chrysanthemum, the pool is shallow and the night seems to be crazy.
It's another year of Chongyang, dyed with autumn frost, shallow fish play, and the night is cool.
The pool is shallow and unbeatable, and the night is cold and singing, and the temples are frosty and then go upstairs.
The sound is fine, the lotus leaves are fragrant, the festival is solstice, and the temples are dyed with autumn frost.
The wind blows the temples and dyes the autumn frost, and the chongyang chrysanthemum is yellow, the anglers by the cold pool, and the reading lang in the sound of the sting.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art