A lonely lamp moon half a round, the autumn breeze is glorious.
The night is getting cooler, the sycamore is old, and the morning is new.
Hanmo Danqing painting is just right, and the sound of the fir and bamboo birds is frequent.
The moss marks and roads are interspersed, and the eyes are full of vitality just like spring.
The green yin garden tree complains of sorrow, and what do you want to eat day and night.
The thin wings gently moved the Tibetan leaves, and the spirit monkey smiled lightly.
Yu Yinqin does not think about it, and sings all the vicissitudes of life.
The grievances are known to be broken, and the wind is not in the belly.
The rain poured down and flooded the hub wheel, and the clouds and smoke surrounded the people of Manjin.
The heavy fog is 3,000 zhang shorter, and the Ranran River rises two inches deep.
The sky is narrow, the wind shakes the green willows, and the ground is surging without firewood.
I only pity my fishing friends and chickens, and a sea of Shang Shi Lun.
Walking through the Zhaowen Platform in the early morning, the traces of the Qin Dynasty came to the face.
The laurel tree is purple because of the autumn shoots, and the yellow locust branches open through the dew.
The bell tower is terrifying, the wind chimes are broken, and the flying pavilion Dandan white jade moss.
The starry stone sky steps are 100 feet long, and the men and women dance high.
Overlooking the Kunyu Taiwei Peak in the distance, the morning light clouds are unmanned.
On the gyro stone path on the mountain, the different stars are different.
A touch of faint glow and sea view, three lights and shadows shine on Feihong.
Heavenly ingenuity snatches the Nine Dragons bath, and the ancient temple traces the Tang Dynasty style.
The lights are oblique and blurred, and the steep bank hangs ten steps.
The cloister of the painting pavilion is by the water, and the rainbow bridge is beside the forest.
Towering clouds tower flying in the sky, upside down erection of the platform in rows.
The mountain is flooded with Beidou, and the wild snow lingers in the shadows.
Idlers should hang their hooks and fish for their own waves.
The willow cicadas on the shore will enter the wine, and the wild waves will be more delicate.
The geese in the south are in tears, and the north ridge is colorful and gloomy.
Laugh at the world, and look at the ups and downs of nature.
At the beginning of the summer breeze, insects compete for pets and complain of vicissitudes.
On the wisteria climbing rock, the golden grass bell shook over the fence.
The frogs by the pond can't stop crying, and the warblers by the stream are fragrant.
The yellow clouds are close to the mountains in the evening, and the sun is cloudy and rainy.
Autumn is sad and self-pitying, and the wind is refreshing and better than spring.
The east fence chrysanthemum is full of thousands of branches, and the peach in the south garden is fat and round.
The rice is golden and turns into waves, and the autumn silkworm silver cocoon spins and wraps silk.
Let's look at the smoke of the ravine, and the surging glow is burning.
The scene of the ten-mile lotus pond is worried, and Yue Huashui is thin and half hangs his head.
The dragonfly has low wings, and the pink butterfly is red.
The red face has faded and is still drunk, and the jasper is still fragrant.
The poetry of the wind and bones is alone, and the red lotus root pays the kitchen delicious food.
The rain abused the yellow flower beside the road, and a few petals of the fallen flowers also left a fragrance.
There are few people on the vast ancient road, and there are few mulberry fields and cocoons to make houses.
Looking forward to the clouds and the tired geese, looking back at the North Ridge dyed with light frost.
The slanting sun is faint, who invites wine, and asks friends to raise together.
The traffic rolls and reflects the waves, and the lights and rivers are swaying.
The fish leaps with neon scales and colors, and the silk brocade is three drifts.
The cicadas are drunk on the willows, and the herons are self-ede.
People laugh and sit for a long time, how do they know that they are happy.
The evening breeze blows in the drizzle of reed flowers, and the autumn waves chase after the waves.
The wild geese returned to the south to conquer far away, and the jackdaws went north to stay in the forest.
Homesick wanderers often climb to the top, and the wife sends a promise.
The moon is light and the stars are sparse and fifteen, and the clouds cover the fog around a few sorrows.
Note: Sadness, here refers to attachment.
The drizzle is drizzling, and the frost is harvested.
When you look forward to the traces of your steps, you must climb the tower when you see the wax figures.
The first emperor sat on the throne with a strong throne, and the ministers were accompanied by the emperor on both sides.
Referring to the deer Zhao Gao platform kneeling, the literati and ink writers sang a thousand autumns.
Note: The trace refers to the inscription on the steps of the main entrance of the Summoning Desk"Traces of the Qin Dynasty"Torii;Wax figures, both the Qin Shi Huang Wax Museum.
The grass tip dew is cool, and there is still a breeze to drag chrysanthemum.
The geese sigh in the long sky period, and the insects chirp in the corner of the wall.
The reed flowers dance with the wind, and the long hammer of the grass accompanies the sunset.
The sound of sick wings and chilling cicadas is getting shorter, and the crickets are a hotbed of dreams.
Tired water and foggy floodplains, floating clouds and drizzle sprinkled on Tingxuan.
The east fence chrysanthemum looks at the moon in the sky, and the reeds outside the threshold are chaotic.
I don't see the twilight cicadas singing the fallen leaves, and I hear the ruins of the cold stalks.
The small building is full of scenery year after year, and the sound of leakage is slow.
The late autumn wind is cold, green and yellow, covering the sorrow of the hometown.
The jade dew condensation frost is getting heavier, and the evening scene of the new city is singing.
The lonely night is quiet and leaking, and the lonely lamp is cold.
The sound of mourning in his ears was chirping, and Huang Liang was not awake and panicked.
Qilu lives leisurely in the sky, and the mountains and rivers wander freely.
Indulge in the top of the golden crow, **Kunyu bright moonlight.
Asked the seven sons of Yanxia Yan, and traveled all over the vicissitudes of life.
The rest of the country has been my realm, nostalgic for the ancient poetry and rhyme.
The stars are cold and the sky is extremely north, and the toad light is like water and quicksilver.
Once the air fan was permitted, there was no slight coolness and hot and cold.
The empty steps are full of gray tiles, and the green walls of the frosty alleys are new.
The stinging insects are helpless and the sun is less, and the wild old homesick wine is not alcoholic.