There is a dream in the heart, the first worry is followed by the music pen and flowers, diligence is the path, and the tide is at my disposal.
Looking at the tide of the sea up close, where to go, the vast waves are free.
Thousands of waves, looking at where the sea is going from afar, are free.
Worry first and then remember the heart, go through the vicissitudes of life, look for elegance in the sea of poetry, and write a new chapter in the tide and waves.
Thousands of layers of blue, looking up at the unification of the martyrs' lakes and seas, the sun, moon and stars are accompanied by the tide.
Sail far, ride the wind and waves to catch the tide, first worry and then enjoy the eternal, the vicissitudes of the waves day and night.
Chasing the waves and chasing the tide and falling into the sea ghosts and gods, the vicissitudes of life have gone through the ancient names of the sages.
The river bends its waist first, and the waves of purple air connect the mountains and seas, and the tide rises.
The vicissitudes of the waves are linked, the first worry and then the joy are always connected, like the boundless sea, and the heart is as wide as the tide is not endless.
At the end of the spring water and sea, shooting the waves, I want to ask where Mr. is going, there are people in the vast waves.
Waves and sands, where is home, the sunset waves go to the end of the world first.
Snow Ridge smells the birds first, where is the road turning Cangjiang Mirage, and the tide is still cold.
Thousands of miles of days are slanted to the west, the first decline of the temples has been blooming, and the lakes and seas are surging and there is a return.
The mirage is surging and the waves are sweeping the sand, and the first worries and then the joy of the waves reflecting the sunset.
Waves, sailing thousands of miles, vicissitudes of life, don't take the lead.
There are hills and ravines in the chest, and if you drink a cup, the sea will be unrelenting and the tide will fall.
The vast blue clouds of the waves, the waves first, the mirage is obsessed, and the heart is surging with poetry.
The river flows east to the sea without end, the tide ebb and falls, the wind and waves roll the sand, and there are people in the depths of a flat boat.
The waves roll in the sand, there is no end to it, where to go, the spring breeze comes to my house.
When people reach middle age, they grow old first, the vicissitudes of life do not change the old appearance, the floating life is like a dream and finally returns to the sea, and the tide falls and the flowers bloom for another winter.
The vast waves of the flat boat take the lead, and the mirage is surging and I don't know the year.
The morning glow is bright, the night moon is bright, and if you want to ask Mr. where to go, the waves are light.
The clouds and water are vast, the wind and rain are full of lovesick dreams, and the infinite spring is a good autumn.
The scenery is secluded, the clouds open and the fog disperses like a hook, and the autumn light is infinite, and the flat boat is left to stay.
Don't look back, thousands of miles of rivers and mountains are high and the wild geese are far away, and the willows are soft.
Several degrees of autumn, the wine is in the middle of the stream, the clouds open and the fog disperses, the wind and the moon are full of buildings.
Turning into clouds, the wind and rain are full of lovesick tears, and it is always a gentleman.
After the rain, the sky is clear and the moon is like a hook, and the geese are gone, and the ground is full of sorrow.
A leaf boat crosses the water surface flat, the autumn light is infinite and difficult to paint, the sky is high and the clouds are light and the wind is quiet, and the rain and mountains are clearer.
Seeing the geese in a thousand autumns, looking far away with the ten thousand leaves of the boat, the wind is light and the world is wide, and the mountains and rain are sorrowful.
The blue water flows, when will it be off, go with the waves, and it is autumn again.
The dream of bananas does not come true, the color night is three watches, the sycamore falls, and a leaf boat goes up the water.
Ye Zhou shook the sky in the water, another year, the flowers fell, the rain and frost and the cold moon were difficult to complete.
In the deep autumn dew, the boat is heavy and the water is slim, the clouds are light and the sky is high, and the wind and rain are fragrant.
The sky is high and sunny, the wind and rain are drifting away, and the infinite autumn light enters the picture screen.
The rain hits the plantain at night, the moonlight is cold, the autumn is incomprehensible, and the leaf boat still sleeps with me.
The west wind is bleak and autumn, a leaf drifts and chases the water, the clouds are light and the sky is high, and the rain and frost are cold and the chrysanthemums are sad.
The shadow of the wild goose is single, when will the wind and rain go back, and the grass and trees in the south are remnant.
The mountaineering road is separated by thousands of heavy rains, thousands of miles of days, people are easy to grow old in spring and autumn, and the leaves and boats are empty and full of smoke from the five lakes.
Crossing a river, the autumn geese fly south for 10,000 miles, the clouds are light and the sky is high and the wind is cool, and the dew is heavy and the rain is sunny at the beginning.
Another spring, Ye Zhou is drunk with wine and red dust, thousands of mountains are beautiful, and everything is new after the rain.
Wangyun's heart is tied to the soul of the mountain, outside the heaven and earth, a few geese call the water in autumn.
Lonely Hong, the clouds are light, the sky is high, the autumn light is infinitely good, and I don't know how to return.
Thousands of miles of Yangtze River a leaf boat, the wind blows the waves and hits a few autumns, the clouds open and the fog disperses the sky, and the rain passes through the mountains and the water flows artesianly.
The wild goose is flying in the south, the rain and the wind are clear, and the autumn light is infinitely into the poem.
In the waves, the boat travels thousands of miles to let the west wind, the water and the sky are infinitely blue, and the same light is not endless.
The thousands of miles of boats splashed with red rivers, and the purple mountains and green mountains from the east entered the painting.
The wind blows the water green, and the half-wheel is full of heroism, always empty.
It has been ten years, the water is far away and the mountains have not returned, the waves are as white as snow, and the fisherman's sideburns in the boat are spotted.
Splashing a clear river, laughing, the fish in the water know what I mean, swinging their tails with the wind to the west and east.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art