Falling Flowers
Ming Dynasty: Tang Yin
(i)
The moment was broken for a very spring, and the rich garden was washed away. Borrow the shepherd boy should have no wine, try the plum and be raw.
If it is a soft dance to deceive Hua Dan, it is difficult to protect Yu Xiang and smile at the tree god. It is expected that the green shoes will be accompanied by hand, and The high will do the sleeping people.
(ii)
The sunset is dim and the flute is slow, and the spring breeze turns its head again. The accusation wants to call the sky to the north pole, and the rouge pays the water to flow east.
Pouring rain mud three feet, embroidered half a hook around the tree lady. The colors are always dreamy, and they are all sad in the mirror.
(iii)
The spring breeze is full of whiskers, and the flowers are floating around. The new wine is about to pour green on the cup, and the fading face has been changed to Zhu in the mirror.
There is no way to steal incense, and the fallen is turned into a stinky husband. The body is fading into decay, and the tree and the tear eye contract wither.
(iv)
When the silkworms are busy black, the flowers and branches are better than red. It seems that the cold food spring has no owner, flying over the neighbor butterfly has a private.
Even if the money is piled up in the Big Dipper, it is difficult to bury Xi Shi in the wind and rain. Kuang bed since the dawn of sleep, a wisp of smoke tea fluttering sideburns.
(5)
Sitting and watching Fang Fei in a sullen mood, Qu Jiao covered the screen exhibition wind. The honey is ripe and sticky white, and the nest of Liang Yan is wet and red.
The national color is pitiful and difficult to get again, why does the wine glass not teach empty. Bear with me under the wheels of the horse's feet, flying west and east.
(6)
Cui Huikong wrote the truth in the mirror, and Luo Shui was difficult to pass on to the gods. The national color has been thin since then, and the peach red has seen another spring.
There is no brocade tent around the Golden Valley, and the green shoes are trampled into the dust. Around the tree a hundred times to the heart of the mouth, next year hook pipe who is?
Falling Flower Poems
(vii)
The sky is full of clouds, and the purple swallow of the Sheri Garden is light. Peach leaves jagged who asked to cross, apricot blossoms scattered to remember the title.
In the middle of the night in the village, the rain filled the city with warblers and leaves. If people don't come back to spring and go again, with whom do they sing yingying arm-in-arm?
(viii)
White weeping willows make new clear, purple-backed duckweed fine points of life. In March, Xunfang rode a phoenix and sang in unison.
The lantern courtyard hurts the perch swallow, and the drizzle roof is wet with warblers. Mo asked Dongjun to complain about grievances, and the spring dream was not clear.
(IX)
In the spring dynasty, what happened was silent, and Tingcao was shocked to see that Lu had been grouped. Flowers and tears fly a little, fluttering eyes and eyes long.
The book has no intention of opening up lonely anger, with a heart of joy. And the joy and remnants are still there, so that the bamboo is repaired and reported peace.
(x)
The peach blossoms are empty of apricot blossoms, and the opening and falling are about the same every year. Since the festival is approaching the twilight of March, why should people hate the five winds.
The eaves are straight through the curtains, and the upper building is like a bullying gold. Picked up towards the Polo Fangpali, mandarin ducks in pairs.
(xi)
Pity and sorrow, flowers and branches are scattered and sideburns. Zhou Chayan speaks spring in March, and the ripples of the sun are half curtains.
Sick and drunk, listening to the wind and enjoying the evening. On the moss in the shadow of the green poplar, he picked himself up for the sake of the red hand.
(xii)
Yang Liu Lou head moon half-rule, sheng ge courtyard in the late night. The flowers and branches burn hard to grow well, and the leaking Tintin refuses to be late.
The gold string cuffs are newly smooth, and the green eyebrows reflect the small cockroaches. How much is the style, how much sorrow, and who the hundred knots say.
(xiii)
Li Shifan Xiang recalled the old tour, and Peng Feiping turned overwhelmed with sorrow. A haggard mao chai wine, March wounds spring full of mirror sorrow.
Cherish the difficulty of giving away the poor hakama, withering is like leaving the sleeping shoes. The red-faced spring tree is not yesterday, and the grass is buried in the air.
(xiv)
The apricot petals and peach whiskers are swept into piles, and the youthful white hair feels decayed. Clams are on the market to surprise the new taste, and the birds teach people to wash the cup again.
Endure singing a song to send the spring away, repenting of the karma drum through the clear. Rotten to earn me to add to the old, do you know that the years can rot?
(xv)
Li Se can eat Mo Yu boast, and once the decay looks at the Yi family. Zhaojun met Mao Yanshou, and Emperor Zhao had difficulty keeping Zhang Lihua.
The deep courtyard is empty of youth, and the red sun of the levee is slanted to the west. Small bridges flowing water idle villages, there are no warblers and dog frogs.
(xvi)
The hall is full of laughter and strong accompaniment, don't worry about the intestines nine times a day. The season shocked Liang Yan's milk again, and lead Hua helplessly rushed to the colt.
Xiang Zhiyi belt hurt waist thin, dream broken Liaoyang did not believe. The door covers the dusk flowers fall out, the beef crisp and recommend the cup in the palm of the hand.
(xvii)
Yazi City edge Mi Lu Tai, the situation in the deep spring turned leisurely. The cloaked jade looked like a wind and pushed the wine canopy window with rain.
The peach blossoms fell like rain, and the female butterflies came over the wall. How many idle courtyards in Jiangnan, Zhu Hu still locked green moss.
(xviii)
Tao Qi Li Trail Xie Chunrong, Fighting Wine And Fighting with the Night. Strange on the new hair curved dust dark, the wall head of the full moon jade plate tilted.
There is no trace of green curtain lane, and the embroidered waist and limbs feel thin. Mo Dao is ruthless and ruthless, because my generation is in love.
(XIX)
Clusters of doubles raise cocoon eyebrows, drowning when leaning on the bending rail. The thousand-year-old Aozuka complained, so heavy that Xuandu only gave poetry.
Incense to the horseshoe to the ant mound, shadow and insect arm spider silk. Looking for Fang, but the New Year's debt, and seeing the yin full of branches.
(xx)
Fang Fei thanked her for another year, and could give her no eight buckets of Chen. Fate is thin and wrong to throw the national color, and the fate is light and does not meet the gold buyer.
Cuckoos cry blood in the middle of the night, butterflies swim in the bottom of the leaves in spring. Color is emptiness and emptiness, and desire to repent from the tune of greed and anger.
(xxi)
The dilemma of the delicate life is complete, and the warbler is dead. The elder Lu Ji sadly married late, and the high yellow bird called spring sleep.
Life is seventy years old, and the price of fighting wine is ten thousand. Pity the fiber and the twilight, so that the silver candle can cover the ship.
(xxii)
Flowers and flowers always belong to spring, and when they bloom, they are envious and disgusted. Good to know the grass skull tomb, is the Red Chamber mask man.
The sandals have taught Hugh Pan La, and the chai cart has never had a towel. The Immortal Dust Buddha's robbery is also gone, and where it falls, why should we talk about the toilet.
(xxiii)
Short firewood doors in the sound of ploughing, pheasant grass garden in the incense of the orchid. Xizi returned to the lake Yu youjing, and Zhaojun left the village of Cezanne.
The spring wind courtyard is deeply locked, and the drizzle wants to break the soul. Pick up the red and endure to throw it away, and also teach sticking to Ah Xian.
(XXIV)
The old wine is full of sleeve marks, and the pity is cherished by the jade. Poor wind and trees outside the window, failing to live up to the full moon in front of Zun.
Benjing seems to be hated by the country, and falling down the building is like repaying the master's kindness. Cheung Chau is a twilight herb, and the river is drowned out.
(XXV)
BerauDong went to Yanxi Fei, and Nanpu Wang Sun complained about the road fans. The bird calls the spring break to carry the people, and the rain makeup flowers cry to the corner.
Green Yin Maoyuan closed the string pipe, day long door lock concubine. The butterfly flipped over the remnants of the dream, and the curved railing was remembered with him.
(XXVI)
Green shoes cloth socks xie swim together, pink butterfly wasp each worried. The old man turned his emotions and regretted the death of the flower heart.
There is no long-term strategy for the rubber cleaning sun and moon, and the wine is close to worry. A song of mountain fragrance spring silence, blue clouds and twilight across the Red Chamber.
(XXVII)
Spring is scary and hurried, dazzling and bustling in the blink of an eye, apricot single shirt is just warm, pear blossom deep courtyard hate windy.
Burn the lamp to sit on the golden night, and think a little red about the wine. If Dongjun asked the fish goose, the mood was said to be in the sound of rain.
(XXVIII)
Woohoo dawns up the spring city, and the sound of the east wind shaking the ground. The lights illuminate the eaves and the flowers bloom and fall, and the jay trees are still shocked.
The red face is not for the heart of the piano, and the green wine is resigned. Silently compared himself to the mirror, the sideburns were another year old.
(XXIX)
Spring dream three more goose shadow side, incense mud a foot in front of the horse's hoof. It is difficult to pour gray wine into new love, only the sachet repays pity.
The deep courtyard should be like a flower, and the Nagato is locked like a year. By who is right but idle peach and plum, said with the sadness of the stone on the edge.
(xxx)
The flowers blow with the wind, and the spring light abandons me as if I were left behind. Five more flying dreams ring The Witch Gorge, Nine Qi summons the soul Fei Chu word.
The aging skeleton has no past, and the withered grass and trees have a glory time. And the poem thirty sorrows, intestines broken spring wind who knows?