Full of new, people in dreams, there is no way to complain, only send lovesickness to spring.
The wind is in a dream, the old smile is red, the face is human, and the melancholy Jiangnan is thick with smoke and rain.
There are many years of melancholy in the world, and I am stumbling, lovesick and bitter, and I still dance to the east wind.
When will the snow moon in Xizi Huanxi rest, the smoke and rain in the south of the Yangtze River are often there, and the water of a flat boat is artesian.
The world is not cloudy water, cold and warm spring and autumn are summer and winter, Huanxi sand is on the moon, and the flowers are bright and willow are calm.
Amitabha Buddha thought for a few years, the heart is empty and the body is at ease, why should monks and nuns go to Zen.
Hongchen sighed in a dream, thinking of Mida Nai, Mo Dao monks and nuns were like iron, singing empty songs under the Bodhi tree.
Emptiness changes, monks and nuns have Tao Buddha where is now, dust a few springs.
Don't learn monks and nuns to knock on wooden fish, self-purifying, Amitabha Buddha 3,000 worlds, see through the red dust thousands of books.
Mida sings Sanskrit songs, how is the red dust, the empty door is lonely and no one asks, and the monks and nuns chant Buddha.
If it is a long time, Amitabha Buddha is in the heart, which means, the bright moon shines in the sky without sleep.
There is no Zen heart, speechless tears, things in the world, laughing and watching the red dust pass away.
Tears, the Buddha has empty doors thousands of times, and there are many rights and wrongs.
I didn't have the heart to read the Buddha, the red world is helpless, there is no infatuation, it is better for monks and nuns to sing Sanskrit songs.
Stay in the pure land, and will not understand the meaning of the heart, empty singing lotus song.
The stone is empty and resentful, a thought of monks and nuns is in vain, where is Amitabha Buddha going, see through the dream.
Wukong Xuan under the Mo Dao monk and nun tree, Amitabha Buddha Hongchen is very annoying.
Thinking of Mida, seeing through the red like chess, tears flowing.
Where to find the trace of immortals, Amitabha Buddha in a thought, I don't know that I am a guest, and I realize the emptiness of my heart under the Bodhi tree.
The Buddha is empty, there is a good fate, a thought of the Buddha thousands of times, and the red dust is the western sky.
A mountain, since leisure, Amitabha Buddha Hongchen is difficult.
In his heart, the Buddha saw through the red dust and empty door and no pure land, and the monks and nuns were originally heroes.
A dream without a trace, the Buddha lives the world, and the monks and nuns are empty souls at the head of the bridge.
In the invisible and silent laughter of the avenue, Amitabha Buddha Hongchen thought clearly.
The power of mana, the sound of the Buddha's chanting, a word shocking the world, everything is light.
Hongchen everything is light, spend the rest of your life, monks and nuns are puzzled, and they should follow me.
Take a photo in the sky under the Bodhi tree, break your intestines in vain, where to go on the top, there is a lover on the red dust road.
A night of lovesickness is long in a dream, the clouds open and the fog disperses to see the rising sun, and the spring breeze and rain smell the thunder and startle the phoenix.
Howling sky, thousands of miles of wind, new weather, old heroes of heaven and earth.
The high place of the north mountain looks at the middle of the part, the apes and birds call each other and smell the water, the west goes out of Yangguan for 300 miles, and I don't know that the east is a floating cloud.
The apes and birds travel to and from the south water, and no one knows that there is a woman in the owner.
Divide far and near, according to the high and low, there are guests in the north mountain to visit, when hearing the cry of the ape tree.
The night of the East Pavilion is lonely, where is the spring dream of Songju in the west window, and the ape and crane are ruthless and broken.
The grass is green, an ape calls two or three peaks, and the sunset comes to this pavilion in the west.
The two are sad, and the Nanshan River flows endlessly, and the water is like smoke.
The grass is fan, the east wind blows low, and the most is to listen to the ape cry in the depths of the North Mountain.
With the clouds, go west to the north mountain of the Yellow River for thousands of years, and the crane cries for thousands of years.
In the depths of the North Mountain, the trees cry across each other, and the people of Xiyan are not seen, in Dongxi.
The ape roared three times and dreamed, the north mountain was lying high and did not know the year, the great river went to the east with infinite meaning, and the bright moon sank to the west and the sky was limited.
The green cow is no longer returned, the purple gas from the east is still there, the pine and cypress know where it is, and the Nanling ape is on the side.
Through Changhong, Wanlitong, the eternal show, the ape and the bird sing in the river.
Towering Han Palace, Yin is majestic, three hundred miles, and the east comes to the purple plug nine thousand weights.
The ape climbs the top cloud and flies far, the herringbone is long, the flow is endless, and the sunset is vast in the water.
The Yellow River is refreshing in the west, and the north mountain is thousands of mountains in the south, and the apes and cranes are full of red.
A few bends of Xinan Road, an ape screams between the white clouds, where the west comes to meaning, and the east goes to the Yangtze River day and night.
The night rain ape in the Bajiang River is bitter, the shadow of the geese is cold, where is the hometown in the east, and the tears are dry at sunset.
The sunset is red in the west, the sun rises in the east at dusk, looking at the pines and cypresses of the North Mountain, and listening to the song of the water apes in the south stream.
At the beginning of growth, the red leaves of the west window cut candles dance with the wind, and the ape sings with the rain.
Tianzhu Peak sees the North Mountain, between the white clouds, where does the sunset go down, and the spring water flows east and does not return.
Acacia is unknowable, the pine and cypress of Beishan are cold, and there may not be no news when they return to the east, and there should be an end of time.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art