The branches of the red maple on the Mo are withered, and the leaves fall into the soil of the soil.
The four seasons remain unchanged forever, and the flowing water goes east to the reincarnation bridge.
The pool is cold and cold, the branches and leaves are remnant, and the branches and leaves are separated.
Sighing sadly, thoughts wandering, leaning on the railing, clouds and rain.
The west wind is strong, and the blinds are draped.
Beijing beer drinking, lovesickness, who knows, love language is difficult.
Looking back, Wushan rain, moth eyebrows dance, fragrant lips.
The green silk is messy, and the red makeup is left.
Writing Fu, thick ink gluttony, Chu bent eyebrows, acacia.
Petal rain, falling by the pool, enjoying the green forest, intoxicated.
The clear water floats, and the core is sweet.
The blue sky is bright, the shadow moon is bent, the sound flute is far away, and the intestines are missing.
Infatuated song, ink-dyed Xuan, a few lines of words, tears flowing.
Full of thoughts, love.
The lonely lamp is sleepless at night, and the candle shadow reflects the wall and plays the yaoqin.
Acacia music is like the sea, and thousands of strings are bent at the eyebrows.
Gaze back and remember the past, meet the beautiful and renew the relationship.
Leaning on the window and looking into the distance, the moonlight shines through the window, the cold and sad wind blows up the ground-to-ceiling maple leaves and flies passionately, and the bottom of my heart looks back at the ......
The snow melts and the twilight rain washes the dust, and the wild goose flies to the south and blows the cold.
The east wind wants to try the spring breeze pen, and the rain paints Wanchuan to dye a new look.
The spring breeze blows, drifts away from the mountains, and drifts over the distant mountains and falls by the river.
The spring rain knocks on the window and wakes up the dreamer
The morning light is hazy, and the east wind is gently blowing the willows.
The mandarin ducks play in the water and ripples, and the beautiful woman misses Junlang.
The spring rain is written into poems, and the wisps of acacia are annotated into words.
With tenderness in his heart, he will no longer be an infatuation for the rest of his life.
Leaning on the window to look at the moon, looking forward to the moon garden for a long night.
I borrowed two cans of Beijing beer to drink, and tonight you are drunk.
In the lonely years, I always want to be with love, far away, intoxicating murmuring, so that the cool world is full of expectations!