"Wangjiang Nan Jingwu Huang Wei"
Text: Zhang Jiahao
Rolling curtains to watch tea wait for Liu Qing, such as smoke and smoke when is clear? Yaoqin was lonely and light dust asked, hedge dredging lane to the depth of the moon. Who has the means to live in the world? The Five Marquis men under the negative Xiling. Among the stars, the night is cold, and the snow of the mountains is attacked by the dust at night. The heart travels three thousand miles, and the rain scatters and the clouds fly in the twelve springs. A different mountain and river seems to be broken, and the autumn moon of this mountain cries Chu Qing. Early plum Judas has to return to the song fan, and Spring Mountain should return the soul. The cold pond of the Chuyang Ancient Temple rises, and the sound of star frost is empty. Out of the customs, Ma Mingqiu was in the autumn color, and the sun was sinking towards the crows. Where is the Qiangguan song? The hundred-turn warbler is the highest forest. A thousand doors and nine strange flowers are like snow, flying over the peach roots that recognize each other. Incense candles have tears to paint the ship silent, where mandarin ducks fly over the court? The lonely East Lake returns to the countryside one by one, and the mountain springs fall into the grass. The bully has no main word to pity the guest, and Lianzhu is afraid of seeing the flower hunter. The sound of sorrow mirror jade falling, flower shadow for whom to plant the dust? The incense lantern looked forward to Luantai, and Jiang Yue was attentive and sad. Flowers cover the bamboo bridge grass alley, and it is a wordless farewell dusk. Don't change your sideburns here, when will you return to Qingqing? Self-for Lin Quan to lead the dream, do not care about the anvil pestle to report the autumn sound. The lone bird Chu Shan is far away, a cicada sycamore is frightened; with the farewell hate, the tide outside the river is asked; the wind and glory are far away, and this time the thoughts return to the dust; the border city herds horses go, the beacon fire shoots fireflies; the moss buries the mountain bones, and the red pink hurts the god; only baqiao willow, Luoshui is still spring; there is no foreign object in the Zen room, when will Fang rediscover? A thousand homes in the shade of green poplars, and a thousand souls in the fragrance of red lotus. If you want to send a cup of acacia tears, who thanked the mother for her thin affection? Long teaching moon to take pictures of willows, tears to see the memory of the forest. When does Los Angeles freeze?
Jing Wu Huang,
Who's leaning against the window?
Ten days of flowers bloom overnight cool.
Where to visit?
Lupine cryptocystis.
Dusty,
Return to the heart in the flow pond,
Want to be too high Tang doubt spring incense.
Three autumn plum rain urge boat let,
Tear cream for people.
