Women are made of water. With water as the background, women will become more charming and delicate. Women also give water a soul. With women, water will be more gentle and affectionate. Jewelry is a woman's best friend, and she knows the pursuit of eternal glory. Therefore, nothing in the world is more natural than the combination of water, women and jewelry. (hujie)

What does it mean that there are beautiful women in the south, beautiful scenery, the sky and the sky are the same, and the green hills are ashamed and secluded?

South of the mountain, south of the sea, there is a beautiful woman standing by the river, watching the breeze dance. The beautiful image still exists, probably because of her beauty, and Qingshan is hidden in the clouds because of shyness.

Here, I fell in love with a girl from the south, and her beautiful figure went deep into my heart, highlighting her beauty with the sea and green hills. It shows that she is unique in the author's mind.

Come in, master. What does this poem mean? Thanks to the flick of a finger, the romantic injury died in spring, and depression became a disease. In particular, I have been given acacia for a long time, and I have sacrificed the scars on the moon. big

With a flick of a finger, the cold moon dies in spring, leaving sorrow for sorrow, writing a sad poem, paying tribute to acacia with a quiet word, and offering a distant sacrifice to the lost years and the traces of the moon. -Write an inkstone in elegant ink, display a piece of plain paper, write thoughtfully, fill in a sentence of acacia, and present a memorial to you in the distance. Under the lonely lamp, blue case, sandalwood, lonely shadow, pen tip full of acacia, writing the front of the past, that touch of faint sadness, like smoke, slipped through the years, stranded shallow feelings of pouring out and whispering, who stayed with the first piano and flute? Turn into a lovesickness mark and write lovesickness words. Sing a fireworks, listen to a moonlight, encounter a few rays of cold air through the window, the candle shadow shakes red, the wind dances, chaotic time; Silently listening to the flowers, pity the blooming flowers, a lot less sorrow, sigh that the flowering period has passed, add a few strands of sadness, and let the flowers bloom in spring. Looking around, where will the beautiful image of drifting away go? Who can this young man be? I have been wandering for half my life, but I have been persistent all my life. I only got a thousand miles of smoke and willow, and Wan Yan cried until the end of this prosperous and fleeting carefree life. At the end of the song, people dispersed, candles turned to dust, and I was drunk in my hometown all night, vaguely. Whose eyes are full of tears? Whose clothes are green? Stop writing and walk, and look at the moon by the window. Leng Yue, like a hook, hangs the top of the willow tree alone, splashing a pool of cold water, making the lotus pond chaotic and starting up countless frogs; The wind is singing in the small building, the pylorus is half closed, Leng Xiang is floating in the dark, the dark red peach blossoms are swaying in the messy moonlight, the garden is full of flowers, the green waves are born, and the rain is sad. This sad misty rain has wet the poetry and painting in the pre-Tang Dynasty and the late Song Dynasty, and how many times have you missed the world? If life is just like the first sight, why is the autumn wind sad to draw a fan? It's not charming at all It's just that I was a little obsessed. When I was in the water, I met the flower season, but I couldn't resist the years. The lingering of that season carved a pale fleeting time. As the Millennium passed, I missed the letter period. Who is waiting for infatuation? The breeze passes through the window, the dull notes dance with the wind, the acacia fluttering on the paper dilutes the magnificent drinking words, and the leisurely exchange has changed people's hearts, but they say that people's hearts are changeable; In the past, the charming feelings, smiling like flowers, cutting candles at the west window whispering, laughing drunk and not complaining about parting, are already the old scenery, falling in the spring mud of flower protection with the wind, ruthlessly falling red. Looking back suddenly, the past is unbearable, and since your departure, this secular prosperity has also faded, leaving only a few lonely shadows wandering alone under the moon, mourning for the shadows; A love that consumes everything lacks people's appreciation. Who can lead the world of mortals to fly alone? Lonely and haggard, I looked at my sword sadly. On the way, I didn't see the trace of plain clothes again. Swallow in front of the hall, soaked in misty rain, solo flying on the moon, lotus flowers under the moon, clear ripples, swinging mud, people in the building, lovesick, carefree and sad, flowers reminiscing about the old days, swinging empty figures, the world is not sad for a long time into wine, and the two places are intoxicating to drink. Yi Deng, like a bean, burned out the illusory years, a wisp of acacia, an old dream. How can the lyrical word acacia be endowed with sadness? Moya's poems don't convey this meaning. Who will continue the simple words? Inviting the wind to sing for a long time, bathing in the moon to sing a few words of flat and even, rhyming to leave. Hold a cold moonlight, pick a few peach blossoms in front of the window, take parting as a song, brew an altar of fragrant peach blossom wine, drink up the fragrance of the garden, and turn lingering frost into peach blossom branches. Wait until the next year, when the spring breeze is once, and then shoot new buds. I don't know if it will come next spring, and the new buds may re-enter acacia wine.