Burning Flowers
The red bean scorching frost invades the leaves and does not know the sorrow, and the sparse branches stand on the head. Even if the wind is cold and red, who will the lovesickness stay for. Looking for plum Zhuohua, there is already a west wind over the short wall, whether the cold plum sees the sun. Go forward and be an obsessive guest, and make an appointment to find some incense in the idle clouds. Occasionally, I saw that the sky was full of sunshine yesterday, and the west wind had cut the roadside flowers. The pair of Nan Feiyan in front of the door will stay at my house next year. The cactus ball blooms without provoking the jealousy of the group, even if the wasteland is full of thorns. If someone else makes the first move, it's no wonder that self-defense is too ruthless. 
I share the moonlight with the breeze, and I share the moonlight with the breeze, and fly the fallen leaves into the poems. Whose little sister sings, a song with a long rhythm of red dust. The cold branch dance is very cold, and I share the moonlight with the breeze. It's no wonder that there is little ink and two or three lines of ink in early winter. **Deep does not feel long, the new tea is boiled chrysanthemum fragrance. Leisure is no longer disturbed between the eyebrows, I share the moonlight with the breeze. Don't scorch the geese in autumn and winter, and make a few bends in the sky, and the worms will hide and hide. The golden apricot leaves are dancing, pulling the west wind to make a beautiful face. 
To Mo Yuan Zhuohua is used to seeing thousands of red dusts, Mo Yuan is the only one who is a bosom friend. Although Fenghua was old, he kept the original heart. In winter, the scorching flowers shake off the cold wind, and the plum blossoms and snow kisses a little fragrant. Please ask you to take the South Building Month, where to send the Acacia. The maple trees are expected to be no longer green in winter, and the dazzling dance in the wind is gradually drifting away. There are 3,000 pieces of the branches left, and they are also deformed by the frost. Yongxuan wine burns Hua, invites friends to gather together to raise gold bottles, and declares wine warm to the snow around the hearth. If there is a wisp of leisure, the poetry does not sing the praises of Xinghua Village. 
Yongxue praises the wine and burns all over the place, and the Qionghua blooms in response to the scene, and the Yaotai is used to taste the wine. Infatuation is the most feminine in red, holding an umbrella and smelling the fragrance. At the end of the year, I feel that it will be too late, and the wind on the shore shakes the willow branches. It's another year of delphinium, who endows the years into poems. He Liuyun Poetry Society's fifth anniversary, Zhuohua ran through the west wind and ascended, and Liuyun was already at the top. Time has passed in a hurry for five years, but it is a light in my heart. In the early spring of the Year of the Dragon, the Jade Rabbit Jiaolong has changed shifts, and the plum blossoms are not idle. Dongfeng stood on tiptoe and asked Liu when he would be beautified. 
The title picture is a few minutes long to cut the Chinese acacia, can you hide the heart in the snow. Counting how many Qiong flowers there are, it is desolate when it falls now. The bacon in the New Year's pot has been fragrant, and the red couplets are pasted on the wall. The wanderer returned and poured a full bottle of wine, and the sound of joy flew out of the room. In the new year, the scorching plum blossoms want to put three thousand trees, and a little cold fragrance flies around. The magpie branches sing, and the sound of spring has been surrounded by the sound of cannons. The scorching Chinese wind in the new year is sad about the old, and the new year is changed for the old. Everything is still counting from zero, and Qinghuan stands among the water and clouds. 