Life is rare and red for another year, and it is still Chanjuan who sleeps alone.
Enjoying the moon, at the end of the world, no one asks when you wake up, only Qinghui is difficult to take care of.
I met the old man in my dream last night, and when I woke up alone, it was difficult to write a sentence, and I tossed and turned lovesick for another spring.
Thousands of miles of geese, the end of the world tosses and turns, and returns to his hometown in a sleepless night.
I can't sleep, I still remember that I didn't feel sleepy in my dream, and I burst into tears.
When he was young, he knew that he couldn't sleep at night, and the past was like smoke for another year.
I don't know the sorrow, it is difficult to understand the lovesickness sleepless empty to the moon, and go to the west building.
In the middle of the night, Sijun couldn't sleep, Han Shu slept alone, and he was haggard.
Seeing each other in a dream is always vague, listening to the rules in the middle of the night, the heart is difficult to calm and people are easy to get old, and who is a person in his life.
Where is the peach source, a kind of acacia in two places, there is no goose word in the brocade book, and I still remember the year in my dream.
Last night, the west wind and autumn air were all over the world, and the slanting sun touched the roses and people arrived home.
The scenery is good, the world is full, the people who pick the rose go to the empty mountain and be lonely, only the sunset shines on the sunset.
After the rain and the grass and trees, the people who picked the rose were puzzled by the wanderer's intentions, and sent the autumn sound to Jiangcheng.
Planting mulberry hemp, a touch of the sunset reflects the sunset, and the west wind and autumn dew last night moisten the yellow flowers.
Yellow everywhere, everything in autumn is dyed like fire maple forest, enjoy chrysanthemum.
When I came to my house, the fallen leaves were all over the world, and the rose pickers watched the sunset in the slanting sun.
According to the new sun, the west wind blows the leaves in several places, and the clothes are dyed with dew.
Where the sun sets on the distant mountains, the west wind blows to wake up from a dream, laughing at the world.
The west wind sends coolness overnight, the eyes are full of autumn chrysanthemums, the sunset is infinitely good, and the people who pick roses are in the water.
Not afraid of flying snow, the west wind withers overnight, the rose pickers have gone, and the slanting sun is still burning in the sky.
When I first saw it, I was infatuated with it, and I went with the wind, and I vaguely knew it in my dreams.
Sending things to the heart, people under the years and months, there is nowhere to find it, and I will meet you again in my dream tonight.
Acacia endless tears, if a year, hand in hand, red note small characters send Chanjuan.
Drink with you and be lovesick, want to send a brocade book without a goose word, and the end of the world will never turn back.
Have you ever remembered that there is a dream to send in the future, a wisp goes with the wind, and I break my intestines at the end of the world.
Where to send a red bean, that spring, often worried in my dreams, you don't forget your roots at the end of the world.
Lovesickness is difficult to solve the things in my heart, Jun is in the dream of the end of the world, the bright moon and the breeze know whether I am, and send Hongyan to ask for the return journey.
Jun a few degrees, a wisp of acacia can not be sent, and the years are full of buildings.
In the past, I remembered whether I was young or not, and there was nowhere to post, and what is the lovesickness today, I can solve my worries by asking.
Who knows if you send small prints, remember when you first saw you, a wisp of lovesickness had nowhere to complain, but you can be so stupid.
Who is suing, ask you where to find a bosom friend, whether you are safe today, and send Qinghui a heart.
For Jun Yifu Acacia Dream People, there is no goose word, ask Qing if you can comfort the soul.
Whether you are safe today, where to go to the end of the world and go on the blue boat.
Lodge in the left side of the river, remember whether there was a boat back then, where is the lovesickness tonight, and join hands with you to go to the tall building.
A dream is far away, for the five Fu of the monarch can remember whether it was in the year, and the red leaves inscribed poems are sent to the plain note.
Three partridge poems, a song of lovesickness several times infatuated, want to send a brocade book without a goose word, I know if it is too late.
Remember whether the red beans in the south of the Yangtze River send the spring breeze, and the first peaks of Xiaoxiang in the acacia dream.
Outside the clouds, remember whether there is nowhere to complain when lovesickness, and there are traces in dreams.
Endless tears stained scarf, Jun is the end of the world, hand in hand back then, the red note small words send true feelings.
Sadness and the bright moon, a total of Chanjuan, a wisp of lovesickness goes with the wind, and you are in the end of the world for a few years.
Provoked lovesickness, I don't know, remember whether the small words sent love infatuation back then.
Hand in hand to chant poems, a piece of acacia brocade without the word goose, ask if you can comfort the infatuation.
Floating garden spring, the style is not stained with dust, and the snow pressure and frost bully the cottage to see the spirit.
The stars are sparse, the cold moon and the jackdaws cry in the twilight sky, and the swaying autumn wind floats to make people pitiful.
Thousands of branches, sparse smoke swallows late, spring is infinitely good, thought-provoking.
A plum tree in the wind, snowflakes fly, and the small courtyard of the sparse hedge reports the morning light.
The dark fragrance floats in the shadows, the dancing blue waves, the frost bully the branches are more pretty, and the sparse fence hut accompanies the singing.
The stars are sparse and the moon is hidden in the sky, the cicadas on the branches sing the evening breeze, and the swaying autumn light floats in the east of the small building.
Qi Lingyun, not stained with dust, welcome distant guests, floating drunk tourists.
Swaying cold plum proud snow frost, dark fragrance floating full of fragrance, sparse fence corner smiling in the wind, skinny and spitting yellow.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art