The two meet, the moonlight is thick, how many things, a glass of turbid wine tells the heart.
In the melancholy, not lovesick, you must wake up eventually, and the years are ruthless and always stupid.
Don't ask Hongchen how many autumns, it's hard to stay, it's like a dream, why be sad and alone.
In the depths of the water clouds, the fishermen have not returned at night, the mountains do not change according to people's wishes, and the moon is high and the fishing boats are flying.
The fireworks reflect the slanting sun, the river goes leisurely and does not return, the cicadas chirp gradually drifts away, and the bright moon shines on the firewood in front of the mountain.
The mountains are empty and covered with rain and dust, the sound of birds is frequent, a stream of water flows eastward, and the fishermen on both sides of the river are neighbors.
The same high frost dyes the temples, several times intoxicated sleepwalking in the mountains, the ice heart turns into spring river water, and often accompanies the fishermen to sing the evening boat.
The clouds go to the water, the three points of loneliness are far away, and the sky is full of colorful clouds.
The fisherman's wine on the river is first ripe, clear as jade, the geese fly south in the autumn high and refreshing, and the ape cries at night when the mountain is cold and sunset.
The lake light is strange in the eyes, the sky is high and the clouds are light, the geese are late, the autumn wind blows a pond of water, and the fishermen sing at night.
At this time, the rivers and mountains are showing a new appearance, the scenery is good, and the fishing family is not tired of singing at night.
The water is far away, the sky is long, the lights are late at night, the afterglow is gone, and the wind sends the autumn high moon to the branches.
Reflecting the blue pool, the sky is high and the clouds are lightly wrinkling a pool of water, and the dream is in full swing.
A peak is high above the white clouds, the mountains and lakes are returned together, the water flows from the east to the end, and the fishermen only see it in the painting.
In the distant sky, the lights of the fisherman's house are as red as blood at sunset, and the moon is full on the river.
Between the blue waves of the boat, the fish play in the water, and the sound of tall trees and cicadas is gradually distant, obliquely illuminating half of the mountain.
A mountain alone shows thousands of people into the clouds, and the river flows eastward to spread the net and smile.
The high autumn is in full swing, the maple chrysanthemum water is wrinkled with thousands of waves, and the wine is half a jar.
One color and two blank, where the fisherman makes the orchestra, the slanting sun is red like fire, and the autumn is high and refreshing.
Spring into the fisherman's house, chasing the waves, the clouds are light and the sky is high and the wind is cool, and the mountains and trees are green and reflect the red glow.
Thousands of horses are running, letting them gallop, and the lights of the fishermen are quiet in the depths of the water clouds.
Eight fights and nine days, learning rich five cars, piano, chess, poetry and water, Jiangnan fishermen do not envy immortals.
Rampant swallowing fishing water, proudly singing ballads, the mountains call long live the millennium waves are not high.
The fishermen on the river have a leaf of water in the sky, and the autumn is high and refreshing, and the green mountains are in sight.
There are traces of people, birds singing in the sky, gurgling day and night, according to the return journey.
Hanging high to warn the world, tears stained with towels, the flesh and blood of the fishermen on the side of the Lugou Bridge.
The clouds and rivers are far away by dreams, and the boat is crossing, and there is no way to go, just waiting for the high sail to break the waves.
The wine flag is dancing in the east wind, the drunk peach blossoms are red, and the clouds are light and the sky is high and infinitely into the cup.
And how, there are more poems, flower moon nights, snowy slopes in the north.
The clouds will disperse the wind and rain, the moon is not full when the dream is in the poem, the three patrols of people are half awake, and I don't know who is drunk tonight.
The light car has a different wind and clear scenery all the way, and the wine green light is red and drunk to the east of the small bridge.
Invite the moon shadow, the shore of the sea, the cloud note wants to send no reason, and turns into lovesickness into dreams.
Drunk on the green mountains and green waterfront, a leaf in the peach blossom garden into the fairyland, and people from the sky flew outside the clouds.
Red trees, the rain after the spring mountain green into the building, poetry and wine years drunk jade scratching head.
Blowing into the night, half a round of bright moon to drink osmanthus wine, that piece of silver.
Pour a glass of wine, the flowers do not know sorrow, the clouds are light and the wind is light and the green water enters the bright eyes.
The sun is sinking, and the three patrols are not finished with a wisp of breeze, but who is it.
The breeze and the moon are high, the weather is new, how happy life is, and the body is in a dream.
The wine green light is red and the night is not young, several people are drunk in other places, the clouds cover the end of the world, and the dream of entering the mountains and tears is two.
There is no need to push between the flowers, the wine flag is obliquely planted all over the sky, and it has entered the Taoyuan realm, why bother to look for Cuiwei in the clouds.
The moon is hazy, in a dream, the love is not finished, and I don't know that the sky is clear when I am drunk.
The night of the building is not young, the dew is slightly cool, lovesick tears, drunk and dreaming of the hometown.
Wine is a thousand cups of confidants, everything is resting, the world is wide, and a bright moon enters the river.
Drunk with red dust and bright moon wine, a cup into the stomach, smiling at the floating clouds over the eyes.
Lingxi cloud can be crossed, the body has no colorful wings into the sky, drinking osmanthus wine, drunk in a dream of the toad palace.
The spring breeze enters the mountains and forests overnight, the weather is new, welcomes distant guests, and there is a lover drunk before the flower.
Why do you have to hurt the past with wine, drunk by the railing, the sky is high and the clouds are faint, and the sound of geese is far away, and the wind enters the painting building.
I don't know how to worry, a pot of turbid wine and the bright moon enter my arms, and Gao Ren will stay.
A song of singing outside the clouds, into the red dust, three glasses of wine under the moon before the flower, drunk the people in the dream of the end of the world.
The dawn red sat down, the clouds sent the sunset to the green building, and the people who had drunk three rounds did not wake up, and they did not know how to worry when they were drunk.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art