定风波.好梦未真.欧阳炯格
The old red paper stained with tears. Once a good dream did not come true. The rain beats the wind and the incense is gone, who asks. It's pitiful and scattered and crushed into dust.
Don't be lovesick and hateful, deeply hidden. Leaning on the railing every time until dusk. Spirits pour sorrow on the intestines and endure secretly. Nightshade is drunk and ecstatic alone.
Set the storm, a little cinnabar, Ouyang Jiongge
A little cinnabar and tears buried. Cloud Window has nothing to guess. The remnants of the spring are also broken, and the edge is shallow. Incense and rain into the dust.
In the dream, lovesick people are lonely and thin. Who planted the red beans in front of the court. The moon is speechless, the wind disturbs itself, and it is ethereal. The sound of the flute led me up the stairs.
Nanxiangzi, what if it hurts, Feng Yansige
What if it hurts. There are many mistakes in recalling this life. It's ridiculous to sigh lightly, wow, the wind comes to the rain.
The flowers are in the middle of nowhere. Is it you who is drunk? How can you forget and spend the old days? Lovesick dreams on paper have been Ke.
Qingpingle, the sound of the waves is still the same, Li Baige
The sound of the waves is still the same. Thin people on the other side. Waiting for the end of the world, lovesick and tearful on the paper.
Listen to the rain and the wind alone. The ground is full of red. It's a sigh that the dream is long and the dream is short, and the passers-by are in a hurry.
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