Beat the dusk drum, chant the sound, the universe is big, the sun and the moon are hanging for thousands of years.
The time has been oblique, see the old people, where is the present, only the mountain monk sweeps away the flowers.
Poor worship such as to cast the rain of the law, cross the mercy of the voyage, pray for peace, monks prayed for health.
Buddhism is boundless, like a monk's walk, stepping through the red dust road with both feet, living up to the truth.
The twilight drum frightens the birds, and the Buddha wakes up the world in the morning, such as where to come, a pair of discerning eyes to recognize the red dust.
A pair of swallows cut the spring breeze, create chemical skills, I am compassionate and open my eyes, and realize the Zen monk under the Bodhi tree.
It is not as if there is also a spirit, a pair of discerning eyes to understand human feelings, the Buddha made a wish for three lives, and the temple practiced a hundred-year-old monk.
Looking at the avenue, the monk's heart may not be wise and the sword pierces the clouds, to the motto.
The mountain monk does not know the old clouds, and the moon hears it, and wants to ask where it is, a pair of egrets stand on the riverside.
The swallow builds a new building, the wonderful power is like to solve all sorrows, the Buddha is incense in the heart, and the world is out of the world.
It's not a poem, a pair of discerning eyes know the truth, the Buddha worships in front of him, and the monk in Taichung is late.
A lamp is difficult to shine on today's monks, and they have not been obtained, such as coming to see the green flies in the palm of their hands.
Meditation temple, the Buddha for thousands of years such as to cast mana, less double.
During the Qingming Festival, enjoy the fragrant flowers, sing all the way on the cuiwei, the peach blossoms are red like fire, and the bees fly and butterflies dance without thinking of returning.
The rain is flying, the pedestrians on the road are everywhere, and the sound of the cuckoo is full of fragrance.
The trees are full of sunrise, butterflies and bees fly to collect honey, and the birds are heard in the depths of Cuiwei, and the songs are full of fragrant flowers.
A touch of the slanting sun is full of flowers, and the flying stream goes straight down to the Milky Way and falls full of clothes.
Come to the end of the fragrance, the green mountains are full of trees, butterflies and bees dance, and the swallows return.
The pear blossoms return with the rain, the wind blows the catkins all over the sky, there is no trace in the depths, and the sun shines all the way.
Fangfei spring has returned, the sound of birds is scarce, the mountain flowers are full of unattended, and they fly all the way with the wind and fragrance.
The wild goose flies, reflecting the slanting light, and the deep beauty of Cuiwei waits for me to return.
Absurdity and tears are written, no one asks in the depths of the blood, only Fang Fei accompanies me.
The face is drunk and fragrant, the song is cuiwei, and the peach blossoms and butterflies dance all over the mountain.
Yan dances and sings Li Bai is full of Chunhui, and Fang Fei in the depths of Cuiwei accompanies me.
Flowers are full of branches, bees fly intoxicating, looking for good sentences in the depths, all poems.
The sound of birds in the depths is sparse, and the eyes are fascinated, and the peach blossoms and red rain are flying.
Mountain dance silver snake colorful butterfly flying, reflecting the morning glow, smelling birds in the depths, all the way to the fragrant drunk and do not return.
A round of bright moon full of skylight, thousands of miles of lonely geese flying in the sky, looking at the green and sassy chrysanthemum Fangfei.
Into the cuiwei, competing for Fangfei, the play between the flowers, the garden can't bear to return.
It is another year of spring fragrant flowers, green mountains and green waters reflect the green and faint, the peach blossoms of the trees are smiling in the wind, and the bees and butterflies are flying to collect honey.
The east wind and clear water reflect the spring glow overnight, and the deep Fangfei returns in a dream.
The tears have dried, the night is gone, and the injury is the moon in front of the window, and it is still unbearable to leave people.
Sentimental and forbearant as a long door fu, the most sad voice is to complain about the autumn wind, and the desire to talk is gone.
The water flows artesianly, the autumn wind goes up to the tall building silently, and endures to see the lonely goose sad for thousands of miles.
The tears are late, and the intermittent sound of the cicadas is the moon in front of the window, and it is not sleepy.
Falling into the distant mountains, it is the most old-fashioned face, and the light is not idle in the sound of cold cicadas.
Walking alone, endure the dissolution of the heart, and the wind is clear.
Speechless tears in the sound of wind and rain, my heart is about the bright moon, to the blue sky.
The lightning and thunder are poor, the sound is like a thunderbolt shaking the sky, and the most injured thing is the rain in front of the window, and I can't bear to fall into a dream.
The mountains and rivers are dyed red with blood, and the most injured thing is the cuckoo wind, which turns into a shocking song, and the crying condenses into a moving clock.
The old shirt, send the far sail, the spring is old, and the railing is speechless to Qingyan.
Dry Wu Yuan night, break the spring of the Han Palace, urge people to get old, and the infinite injury is this body.
I want to talk and I am full of tears, the night is deep, the moon in front of the window, and I can't bear to leave the heart of people's dreams.
Endure watching the red dust always disappear in dreams, the silent years urge people to grow old, and they still hate Lu Yao if they want to speak.
Fallen leaves hurt tears, rain and residual lotus can't bear to listen, silent autumn is old, flowers bloom with words and dark fragrance.
The autumn sound is bleak and the geese fly south, look at the cuiwei, endure the west wind and wither the green trees, and the injury is the most to send the monarch back.
One kind of injury is the same in two places, endure the heart to pay the east wind, the cuckoo returns in spring, and the speechless peach blossoms are not as red.
Tears are silent, how many things in the world are still resting with words, and there is always sadness.
Shocked to hear the bad news, the words were hideous, like a sound, where to send a piece of injury, and endured listening to Du Yu's crying and wailing.
Ascending to the lone building, the most injured is Chu Tianqiu, the sound of geese is intermittent in the clouds, and he is vaguely dreaming.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art