The famous calligrapher and painter of the Southern Song Dynasty, Yang Wuchao
Book of "Ten Plum Blossom Songs"
Collection of Liaoning Provincial Museum
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Proud of the snow and frost, love it plum, only to borrow the spring light. Step around the West Lake, Xingyu East Pavilion, Kenai Shi Intestine. Juan Juanyue turned back to the corridor, quietly nowhere, arranging dark incense. A night of lovesickness, a few branches of shadows, falling on the cold.
Snow smoke marks, and spring color, come to Fangzun. Remembering last year, the moon moved to clear the shadows, and people stood at dusk. Who's to say? But eternal night, the sky is full of dreams. Around jiangnan, the wall is deep, and the village of Shuiguo Mountain.
Thatched hedges, half-drifting residual snow, reclining low branches. Can be more appropriate, smoke hidden bamboo, the moon in the cold creek. When Ning Ning moved immediately, he judged the damage, and there was no harm. Whoever endows talent, writes a meditation, draws a new poem.
The moon fell frost flying, the gap was thin, and the horizontal branches were slightly seen. Don't be cold incense, untie the pipe, blow to the screen curtain. Who knows the flavors? When I fell asleep, the clouds were at my disposal. Chewing on the sauce, shallow low laughter, wine when half awake.
The moon turns to the east of the wall, a few cold shadows, a little incense. Qing can't sleep, drunk with poetry, up and around the treasure bush. Ordinary life is only a love chung, growing old, no worries. The most unforgettable, leaning on the floor people, in the sound of the horizontal flute.
Jade bone muscle, for whom the preference, specially suitable. A period of wind, Guangping Xiufu, and Jing Wushi. Qi Window slept late in the spring, sleepy and weak, and Linghua smiled and peeked. Chewing buds blow incense, eyebrow points, sideburns with the time.
For the love of ice posture, the painting is not enough, the groan is not enough. Already hated the spring urge, but can be snowy, Fei Ying chased each other. It should be marked as lonely, as if shy, and charming. White incense, put him peach and plum, the mountain is vulgar.
Water curve mountains, cold branches cold, and rafters repair. Finely blowing incense, the shadow of the poor, annoyed and broken the intestines. For the station of Ma Hengtang, the end of the rambling, the sunset of the tobacco village, the empty chanting whip, a few more verses, do not think.
Talent is flowing, the time is appropriate, and the place is quiet. In the snow and moonlight, in the shadow of the smoke stream, the pine bamboo tips. Born to hate people in tall buildings, whistles and complains, and frightens sideburns. Not the Ming Dynasty, half with the wind, half with the waves.
In the corner of the house, occupying a small place, planting two or three plants. Light moon and clouds, tender cold and clear dawn, fragrant and clear. What is the desire of Xi Fang? Oh, anointing the same way. Because things are smooth, for the history of flower cultivation, Shu Ji Zhongshu.
Ten songs of right willow shoots. Ordinary life and plum have a relationship, both painting and endowing, self-pleasure so, do not look at how to think, but the old realm to the flower a song, do not want to vote for it people's eyes and ears, non-zhiyin can not show it. Blameless
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