The river is silent, the clouds are light, the geese return to the group, and the autumn wind blows down the mountain
The grass is like a tree, the dust falls, the clouds cover the fog and there is no way out, and the birds and flowers seem to have a god.
The moon falls and the frost fills the city, the ancient road of Wei'e disperses the hall of eternal life, and the sound of drums is still heard in the middle of the night.
The clouds are combined, the birds are separated by the sound of rain and rain, and the pine flowers on the stone wall are gone.
The pine shadow is combined, the sunset in Chang'an, the Qinling Mountains, the autumn snow, and the sand.
Falling into the sky, towering into the sky, the clouds and fog dispersed silently.
The moon is hazy, and the ears still hear the towering heaven and earth, and the river falls nine times.
When the mountains are towering, the rain is sunny at the beginning of the day, the sunrise is like washing, and the spring is sounding.
The night rain in Xiaoxiang falls on the river city, the majestic green mountains enter the painting screen, the clouds are light and the wind is light and the world is wide, and the fishing boats sing the sound of the waves at night.
The slanting sun is red outside the clouds, several birds are singing among the trees, the mountains are like barriers, and it is suspected that the Milky Way is falling nine times.
The east wind has no trouble, and the night Sijun Wan is nostalgia is as strong as wine, and he was drunk in the red mansion several times in his dreams.
The nostalgia is more timid, reminiscing about the spring of the hometown, and returning to the road, only the breeze understands people.
In the dream, the moonlight is faint, sending the sky, wandering children, thinking about the hometown in the middle of the night.
I often think about my hometown and look for good poems, the most nostalgic is like wine, and I drink all my dreams in a cup.
What is the spirit, today is to think, the nostalgia with the wild goose, very autumn dream move.
The nostalgia has not been over for many years, and the dream is held, the relatives are not sleepy, and the wanderer of the world is unhappy.
In the dream, I often recall the youth tour, the nostalgia of thousands of miles is receiving, the spring breeze blows the catkins, and the moon shines on the high-rise buildings.
Singing all the way, I didn't see my childhood shadow several times in my dreams, and I sighed a lot.
In my dream, I still remember when I was a teenager, I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing, and I still woke up.
Without thinking about his hometown, the breeze intends to return to the boat, and the nostalgia goes with the clouds, and the sky ends in the dream.
Rolling bead curtains, thinking about you in the middle of the night, where to send, the moon is still full in the dream.
The most nostalgic is to ask the return date several times, where are the people, sitting alone in front of the window and being obsessed.
When you meet the deceased, you don't understand the nostalgia of the wanderer, and send the moon wheel.
Life is rare to spend the forefront, the world often thinks about the alliance under the moon, the most is the nostalgia is as strong as wine, a glass of drink in the dream.
Often nostalgic, the past is vaguely difficult to sleep, and the wanderer of the world is hazy.
The bad news is cold and tears, the sound of mourning and music ripples, the jade bones are buried in the towering green mountains, and the dust and smoke fall on the earth.
The spring breeze blows down the cliff and the grass and trees are deep, and the clouds are light and the sky is high and the water is high and the water plays the yaoqin.
The wind sends the sound of geese, and the water clouds fall deep and no one cares, looking at the moon.
Towering blue sky, flying stream straight down into the pool, fog around doubtful road, water and mountains seem to have a sound.
The pine shadow falls in mid-air, the stone ridge is high, the cloud is deep and there is no trace of people, and sometimes there are birds out of the tree.
Singing late autumn, playing on the sandbank, the boat crosses the field and crosses the light sail to stay.
The egret stands on the sandbank, sings the evening fishing song and sails far away in the sky, and the sunset sees off the boat.
The blue sky swings the boat, a leaf drifts, and the fishing songs sing and dance endlessly.
Where is the light sail of a leaf, the fishing song is full of moon at night.
Returning guests, fish playing in the water, boaters are gone, and they enter the reeds.
The egret stands on the beach, enters the painting boat, and a lonely sail is among the water and clouds.
The clear water and clear waves swing the evening boat, let the drifting, sing through the clouds, and the egrets dance endlessly.
A leaf dances lightly, the blue boat carries wine and clear waves, and the fishing song flies down the slope at night.
Xia Tingzhou, upstream of the water, no one is seen, and a leaf is drifting.
The egrets by the river play the spring tide, sing evening fishing songs across the small bridge, a leaf sails to the sky, and the boat travels thousands of miles at will.
The blue boat ripples and gently shakes the sky outside the clouds, and the egrets on the river fall on the beach.
Into the vastness, across the river, singing the evening fishing song gradually distant, startling the egret to fall into the sun.
The fishing song sings the fragrance of late rice flowers, and the egret is leisurely and unmanned, gently shaking a leaf to wander.
On the water island, the fishing song does not know the sorrow at night, and the light sail is a dream of a beach boat.
Let you wander, a leaf of light sail fishing song rises with the waves, into the clouds.
With the moonlight, still the old garden, thinking of relatives is the most sleepless.
Drunk in the dream, the nostalgia is incomprehensible, and the sleep is tearful.
When I go to the ends of the earth, I am always blown away by the wind and pull my soul.
A wisp of nostalgia sends clouds to the sky, and several times I have returned to my hometown in my dreams, and the wanderer misses his relatives thousands of miles away, and his heart is like an arrow.
Seeing the full moon again, thousands of miles of nostalgia are linked, returning with infinite meaning, and thinking of the homeland with tears.