The warm rain is sunny and leaks a few silk, and the shepherd boy obliquely inserts the tender flower branches. When Oda Xinmai came on the stage. It is too early to draw water to plant melons, but too late to endure smoking and cooking millet. The long-term acid penetrates the soft waist.

Wet Luo yi

It's hard to vomit only a secret feeling in the world, and the tears are still alive after swallowing. Twist the residual flowers by hand, and lean against the screen without words. Looking at each other in the mirror, I am surprised and slim. Chun Rong is not, Qiu Rong is not, but (pity) Shuang Qing!

Cherish the yellow flower slowly (lonely goose)

The blue sky is far away, but the dusk is scattered and the red is fresh. When you listen, you are worried about the near, when you look, you are afraid of the far, and you are alone. Who will you go to? The plain frost has cooled the reed flowers, and the gulls and herons are even more sympathetic. Sleep secretly, the phoenix is good, it is better to be married! Desolation advises you to be silent. Take advantage of a sand and a half water, and spend a fleeting time. When the rice and the beam are exhausted at the beginning, the net is bitter, the dream soul is easily shocked, and there are several cold smoke. Heartbroken can be like a beautiful heart, and it's touching in my heart! The night is not over, and I am tired of flying to Supingtian.

Lonely Luan (Sick)

The noon cold is accurate, and the early malaria is just coming, and the blue shirt adds lining. Stay in a bun and comb, and wrap Parozzi's temples in disorder. Busy in plain skirt, creased edge, broken wire and double loss. Jade wrist looks like a cocoon (orchid) at close range, but its cheeks are still tender. Even if you are miserable all your life, you will endure it. Turn it into dust, and feel it before you get married. Think about love, dare to be smoked out. Dongmao (wind) is too slow to pay. Cold tide, hot tide. Who asked? Go home and dry the cotton, and cook late.

Misfortune (chanting abuse)

Yiyi is alone, muddy like a dream, who can wake up! How much you suffer, butterflies are angry with bees, and medicine is difficult to cure flowers. When you are busiest, you have to work hard, and you are miserable and self-cleaning. Always complain about the deep sorrow, drip dry and clear tears, and the injustice is unconscious. I've been to Youlai for the first afternoon, but I'm partial to it, and it's deeper (forever). It's a thousand turns, but I still want to sleep, and breaking the sun is cold. The mountain is like a mirror in the evening, the smoke in the small (firewood) door is locked, and the beautiful woman is graceful and sick (I can't stop breathing). Looking forward to spring, I am afraid that the east wind will not be willing.

Touch the fish (thank your neighbor Han Xi for feeding).

I like Chu Qing, and the evening (dawn) clouds appear in the west, and the cold mountains are shallow outside the smoke. The moss pattern is fragrant in the dry place, and the purple mud on the tip is still soft. People talk in disorder, and they are busy leaning on Chai Fei, and they are empty and deeply willing. Acacia line, round to the new moon; Wear sorrow and hate, beads and tears. After dusk, who (still) has pity on the heat? Small window wind, shooting like an arrow. Spring, white, autumn and red are heartless and gorgeous, and one is like Nong (still) difficult to choose. Seeing the distance again, listening to it, sad has been attentive. The setting sun is dazzling, so don't look at the horizon. The horizon is just a few cold clouds.

Blow the flute in memory on the Phoenix Stage (to send Han Xi)

Inch by inch, weiyun, filar silk afterglow, whether it is flickering or not is hard to disappear. It's breaking my soul. It's shaking. Looking at the mountains and rivers, people go and go, vaguely distant. From now on, it will be sour and clear, just like tonight (the DPRK). Qing Yao, should not ask for heaven, look at Xiao Shuang Qing, curled up bored. See who is more, who is painful? Who wants (* * *) to be happy, steal vegetarian powder, and write and describe? Who cares, life and death (life and death), dusk (night and night)?

Memories of Flute Blowing on the Phoenix Platform (Residual Lights)

I have forgotten to blow it. Who wants to know? Xiangnong has no flame like a firefly. Listen to the cold rain on the earth steps, and the drops will break even more. Lonely and weary through illness, difficult to break, but also very affectionate. The perfume is exhausted, and my heart is not cold, and I am accompanied by Shuangqing. Stars. Gradually motionless, still hope you drown, there is a peanut! The wind in Shengyetang is chaotic and the fishing lights are swaying. After the hard autumn moth dispersed, people have been sick, and the disease has decreased. Look at each other for a long time (people), hazy into sleep, sleep is still (empty) surprised.

Memories of Blowing a Flute on the Phoenix Platform (Xiang Geng)

Purple stranger Chun Qing, covered with spring yarn, plowed in spring, Xiaomei was thin in spring, and fine grass was bright in spring. Spring comes step by step. Remember the good spring that year, and tell Chunying about Chun Qing. Up to now, if you miss spring tears, you will melt into spring ice. How much is pity and pain in spring? By a piece of spring smoke, lock the spring warbler. Give it to Chunyi, and give it to Chunyu, because it is your spring spirit. It is difficult to calculate the spring dream and wake up in spring. What a spring demon! Have a spring dream, and spring misses you!

"After Illness (Two Poems)" (also known as "Nine Poems of Hebero")

Secondly, this year's high (cream) rain broke the autumn clouds, in order to make up for the new rent and dress. I'm keeping my husband warm, but my heart is like honey and I dare to think of you. 　

Thirdly, the thread of twine (shoes) is a few heavy, and firewood will be picked up in Xifeng tomorrow. On a cold night, the wind was strong, so Mo Xiang Lang blew all the way to Nong.

One of the Nine Poems of Hebailuo: The mud is late and wasted, and the swallow is blamed when it is hungry, and whoever is bound by the cocoon will pity the cocoon after illness. Chun Yan laiwo, Kechun frozen unsolved, where to hold mud? No one can pity you when you are trapped in a cocoon. 　

Fourth, the cold kitchen smoke is wet and the room is low, and the phoenix is thanked by the phoenix. Wild vegetables are washed from the cold (inside), but chrysanthemums are painful and frosty! Fifth, life is as light as cicada's wings, and the old is as charming as the neighboring moths; Does grandma still know when she sees her son? Bitter yellow looks like red.

Seventh: the shadow of Siping Mountain is far away from the female platform, and Lang is paid a few times. After returning home, I advised Lang Chenyan to get up, and it was forbidden for outsiders to rush.

Seven Ancient Poems with Seven Words of Rhyme in Wuning (Part Seven)

Guess at night when the snow is cloudy or sunny, and there is no place to wander in front of the bed; Longitudinal enlightenment as a solitary flying phoenix, less than Qin Nong Yu Taiwan.

Looking at Jiangnan

I don't see it in spring, but I have searched the west of Wild Bridge. Dye the dream to deceive the butterfly, lock the sorrow to deceive the oriole, and don't mention it again. Is it right to meet each other if people don't see each other? Yue Bai has fragrant air to provoke sleeves, precious flowers and no tears to touch clothes, and the mountains are far away and the setting sun is low.

Spring comes from the sky (plum blossom)

Laughing at yourself, it takes a long time to save the flowers. The jade looks haggard, who do you know to add it to? Illness is divided into two parts, and it is too much for flowers. The clothes are being washed, the spring waves are cold, and the wrists are worried. Hard east wind, blocking the cold fragrance for a time, the crescent moon is slim. Passionate all over the sky, falling powder is only tired of double Qing, and dreams are empty. Evoke souls with butterflies, wipe tears for warblers (spend their honeymoons), and secretly recite (read) shurangama at night. There are beautiful words that hurt spring, sour and bitter, and life and death are sweet. I wish the Year of Flowers, kowtow to Guanyin, and draw lots of spiritual signs.

Erlang Shen (Chrysanthemum)

The silk is crisp and the willow is crisp, and the smoke is still broken. In the shadow of the setting sun and the autumn mountains, I still like that the flowers are not thin. The bitter rain made Chongyang suffer, and it was too late to get to Koharu. I know that tonight, dipped in a slight frost, the butterfly will hang its head. Birth and suffering, new cold invades the bone, and illness comes again. But I'm so unlucky that I left you after dusk. It's cold and dry, and people can't sleep. After a few nights in town, they haven't loosened their gold buttons. Waste koo but open to the poor, sorrow to wash without wine.

To Shi Zhenlin

All day long, I miss you in tears, Chang' an is far away, and I dream about it several times a night. I can laugh at the hard-working ci-writers, but also learn from the village men and women, and burn incense in the morning and kowtow three times. Pray for God's blessing, people on the horizon will achieve fame and fortune, and they will be in harmony early. We should forget that the end of the world is emaciated, his life is uncertain, and this life has been closed!