Around the eaves, some people sleep, and the sunset is full of red sky.
The old wine talks about mulberry hemp, a few wisps of cooking smoke in the west mountain are beautiful, and the sunset is obliquely shining all over the world.
The mountains are red in the west, and in the sunset world, a few wisps of smoke are hung on the trees.
The sunset is like fire, and the sunset falls into the water, and there are fishermen in the depths of a few wisps of cooking smoke.
The township is far away, the mulberry hemp is green, the sunset is infinitely good, and the fire is red.
The small courtyard talks about mulberry and hemp, winds around the trees, and a touch of sunset reflects Dansha in the west.
The sun sets in the west, the water is full of red, the smoke is surrounded by villages, and there are people sleeping in the depths of mulberry and hemp.
The smoke curls up from the cold mountain, and the eyes are full of mulberry and hemp, and the sunset of Modao is red through half of the sky.
Runsang hemp, it is my home, red like fire, and the west is full of the world.
A touch of sunset is red like fire, the sunset is like blood staining mountains and rivers, the cooking smoke surrounds the farmhouse, and Weng Yuan sang praises.
The sunset of the west mountain is obliquely shining all over the world, and the smoke is a few wisps of smoke for a year.
The sunset is slanting, the words are mulberry, the sunset returns early, and the laughter and singing are drunk at sunset.
A song of mulberry hemp has a long charm, the smoke of the cooking is red through the green mountains, and a few wisps of light wind send the sunset.
The scenery is different, the sunset reflects a red vermilion, and there are farmers in the depths of a few wisps of cooking smoke.
It is the hometown, and the sunset on the mulberry hemp is infinitely good, and it is better than spring.
To the east of the small bridge, the smoke curls in the blue sky, and a touch of sunset obliquely shines in the middle of the mountain.
Thousands of miles of wind, cooking smoke around the back of the cow blowing the flute, the flowers reflect the water red.
The sunset is red and melodious, crossing the small bridge, the smoke is surrounded by the cottages, and the colorful clouds are floating.
The shepherd's flute melodiously poplar willow bank, the sunset is red through the apricot blossom village, the cooking smoke surrounds the farmhouse, and a touch of the slanting sun shines on the wine bottle.
Winding around the water and clouds, a touch of slanting sun shines on the distant mountains, the frost is red and the fire is victorious, and the shepherd boy and the cow carry the flute idle.
Shine on the distant mountains, between the water and clouds, play the horizontal flute, and the maple leaves are red in the February sky.
After who is pitiful, the moon is full, the village rises, and the slanting sun touches the window.
Looking for the fairy trail in the depths of the pastoral clouds, the sun is red, the cottages are around, and the sun is set in the west and the small bridge is in the east.
The smoke rises from the sun shining on the river, the maple leaves are red through the frost and the fire is victorious, and the shepherd boy and the cow carry the flute for a long time.
The slanting sun shines on the evening breeze, the cooking smoke curls around the east of the small bridge, the cow plays the horizontal flute, and several peach blossoms reflect the water red.
A round of bright moon and half a river red, singing shepherd boys, a few cooking smoke misty, the slanting sun in the evening breeze.
The shepherd flute is melodious around the blue sky, the mountain flowers are full of red, the cooking smoke curls up the farmhouse, and the drunken old man with a touch of the sunset sun.
Farmhouse, a touch of the sun red wall and green tile house, back flute sound.
The slanting sun reflects the west window, around the gallery, the sound of the shepherd's flute is far away, and the small characters on the red note appeal to the heart.
The sound of the flute on the back of the cow is long, the maple leaves are red when the rice is fragrant, a few wisps of cooking smoke surround the village house, and the bright moon shines on the sun.
The twilight clouds fly, a touch of the slanting sun reflects the cuiwei, the red is better than the fire, and the shepherd boy returns with the flute on the back of the cow.
A round of red sun and rainbow in the sky, floating in the wilderness, the sunset in the west.
The neighing was urgent, and the smoke of the fishing boats on the river was wafting up, dyeing the sky.
Cooking smoke curls around the hillside, a touch of the slanting sun shines on the treetops, tomato branches hang lanterns, and shepherd boys blow bamboo flutes on their backs.
Outside the distant mountains, a few wisps of cooking smoke and the sound of the flute on the back of the cow rose, and a touch of red glow reflected the tower.
The solitary show is red with thousands of flowers, the shepherd flute sings the wind melodiously, the smoke drifts in the four fields, and the west is in the colorful glow.
The small characters of the return of the herding horse send affection, and the dream of a wisp of slanting sun cannot be realized.
The smoke surrounds the trees, and the sun warms the new wine over a small fire, looking at the shepherd's baby.
The water flows from the west to the east, a few wisps of cooking smoke surround the small building, and the return cow is on the back, and a round of red sun hangs on the mountain.
The bright moon fishes the river sky, sleeps alone, returns in the middle of the night and does not sleep, and calls for children to drink and talk about the harvest year.
Outside the smoke, the drunken eyes opened, and Mo Xiaowan caught the carp.
I don't feel that the sun is sinking, and I still remember talking about the past when I was a child, and I have two hearts with a bright moon.
In the middle of the night, the firewood was deducted, the moon was shining with a long rod, and suddenly the village boy was full of stars.
A rod to break the fish Weng half a day of leisure, and wait until he returns to sell wine and watch the clouds.
After three cups, in a dream, the village Weng couldn't stay idle, and the sunset was red.
I don't feel that the moonlight is left, the small courtyard is happy, and the most is the neighbor who is hanging the pole.
A cloud of smoke and rain fishing, the prosperity is not endless, the village children play in the water, and the return is full of laughter.
The three poles on the sun are sleepy, and the sit-ups are declining, and the return is already the sound of the naughty boy from school.
Chasing the red sun, stepping on the white clouds, no Yaxing, hanging down to fish at dusk.
Where to find the trace, I still remember the little yard boy back then, the white-haired decrepit man had nothing to do, and he fished with a rod and the sunset was red.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art