The sound of the sky, the window is bright, the forest sings, and the night reads poetry and books for thousands of miles.
The clear night is lonely, the shadow is quiet**, people are sleepless, and the frog drum crosses the stone bridge.
Whose bamboo shadow is quiet near the window, the night is cool, people are not sleeping, and the sound of the stinger accompanies me to sing Huazhang.
A light is like the sound of beans in the passage of time, the most is the spring breeze tomorrow and night, and everything in the world is quiet.
The wind is rushing and the geese are sounding, the moon is falling and the frost is cold, and I don't know if I am a guest, and I come back at night to dream around the river city.
The wind and rain come at night, the moon is half a round, the only light thinks about the past, and the sound of autumn is unbearable.
The forest birds are crying in spring, the mountain monk sits alone at night and is cold, a light is bright and the meditation is fixed, and the moon is full of sound.
A light of snow, the sound of the clear pine does not know where to stay, in the quiet small building.
A few geese in the sky, according to the dawn, the autumn wind blows people's hearts, and the night dew condenses into grass and trees.
The drizzle wets the clothes, looking at the deep grass and trees in front of the window, thinking about the past alone with a lamp, and it is even more sad to hear it.
Quiet and dustless, the night is cold and the stars are sparse and the moonlight is new, thinking about the past, and remembering the beautiful woman in the frog sound array.
A lamp is like a bean silently into a dream, where to send, and the window is full of stars.
Urging people to get old, the flowers fall in front of the dim window, and the moonlight is cold.
The spring rain washes the lead at night, looks at the few trees and flowers in front of the court, the light outside the window is red, and the laughter is full of the world.
The people are quiet, and the night air is still thinking about the past with a lamp, and several chickens sing across the east wall.
Such as beans shine on winter clothes, Wan Lai silently into a dream, where to send this night lovesickness, wind and rain knock on the window.
The sound of forest birds is like a hazy bean moon, and the people in the small building are quietly watching the night sky by the railing.
The water moon is bright, people are quiet, thinking about the past, and reading books.
The more quiet the Wuti Mountain, the wind blows the leaves and moves the early cold of the night, the light disappears and the people do not sleep, and the four fields are silent and the grass and trees are remnant.
The song has been sent, the lights are out, the moon is bright and the wind is quiet, and the lonely empty court is like snow at night.
Outside the township, in the dream of the guest, who is the moon and people sleeping with tonight.
People are quiet and difficult to sleep, pushing the window to look at the moon and not knowing that they are guests, and waking up with tears in their cheeks.
Changing the lamp and getting drunk a thousand times, the three watchmen are sleepless, and the pillow quilt is vaguely wet with tears in the dream.
The tears in the dream last night were blurred, and the three watches still heard the partridges.
and tears, vaguely in a dream, pushing a cup to invite the moon to get drunk, until dawn.
Persuade the gentleman not to say goodbye, it is difficult to sleep, and I don't know that I still have tears in my dreams.
In the dream, I often recall the old times, the love is stronger, the sleepless people are sleepless, and the moon is hazy when I push the window.
In the dead of night, tears are like numbness, and I still remember returning to my hometown in my dream, pushing the window to look at the acacia and falling osmanthus flowers.
People don't sleep, the shadows become pairs, lovesickness is bitter, and there are still two lines of tears.
The flowing water pushes the boat back to the sea, the mountains look up and the clouds are deep, and the dreams often recall the juvenile things, and the tears are full after waking up.
In the dream, the green shirt hates the road, and the night is quieter and deeper, looking at the moon and crossing the river bridge.
Tears stained, looking for the deceased, pushing the cup to change the lamp for three points drunk, and it was difficult to sleep in the middle of the night to remember the hometown.
Under the moon, people who drink alone are not sleepy, pushing the cup to change the lamp still remember the events of the year, and only after waking up do they know that the tears have dried.
Another spring, the night is sleepless and reminiscing about the past, and the dream is still full of tears.
At the end of the world, I woke up in tears and couldn't sleep, and I couldn't sleep.
Tears on my head, changing my dream body, pushing the window and seeing that it is not true that I can't sleep.
Thinking of the old garden, pushing the window to look at the moon and not knowing that he is a guest, the old tears are overflowing.
The drizzle pushed the window and didn't sleep on the tall building, still remembering the events of the year, and the tears had flowed.
In the dream, I often remember the young heart, and after waking up, I know that the tears are full, the night is quieter, and I can't sleep, and I push the window to look at the moon sinking in the west.
Speechless tears into poems, I still remember when I met in a dream, I pushed the window and the shadow of the flowers moved, and the people of Iraq were stupid.
It's hard to sleep, the shadows are in pairs, and I am a guest, and I still wake up with tears.
It's hard to calm down, and I can't sleep, have I ever remembered, and woke up alone with tears in my eyes.
The past is like smoke passing in a dream, the pillow flows, it is difficult to sleep, and the bright moon pushes the window to shine on the small building.
Acacia red beans are vaguely under the moon, pushing the window to look at the end of the world, and it is not true that it is impossible to sleep in the middle of the night.
Looking at his hometown in the long sky, where does the flute sound tell about desolation, blowing down the double flying geese, and only the shadow wanders in two lines of tears.
The clouds and shadows of the sky and the autumn water are long, the sun is slanting, the reeds and snow are blown down, where is the hometown.
A pair of egrets under the green cen, the clouds and shadows of the sky are shallow and deep, where the flute blows the sunset, and the fishing boat sings the hometown heart at night.
The sky is full of sunshine, looking at the hometown in the wind vaguely, and seeing the yellow flowers.
In the dream, the hometown has been autumn several times, around the high-rise building, a pair of swallows go through the clouds, and people do not leave a shadow at the end of the world.
The thin shadow is miserable at night, the tearful eyes are drooping and hateful, where the flute sounds to surprise the dream, and the bright moon shines on the clothes.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art