Li Bai (701-762), born on February 8, 701, Han nationality, six feet six tall, named Taibai, Qinglian Jushi, was born in Jiangyou, Sichuan, and was a great romantic poet in the Tang Dynasty. His poetic style is bold and elegant, his imagination is rich, his language flows naturally, and his music is harmonious and changeable. He is good at absorbing nutritious materials from folk songs and myths to form his unique magnificent colors. It is a new peak of positive romantic poetry since Qu Yuan. He is also known as "Big Li and Du" together with Du Fu. He is the greatest poet in Chinese history. Known as the "Poetic Immortal". The themes of Li Bai's poems are diverse. Representative works include: seven-character ancient poems ("The Road to Shu is Difficult", "The Journey is Difficult", "Sleepwalking Tianmu Yin Leaves", "About to Enter the Wine", "Liang Fu Yin", etc.), five-character ancient poems (59 poems in "Ancient Style"); The Yuefu folk songs of the Han, Wei and Six Dynasties, such as "Changgan Xing", "Midnight Wu Song", etc., and seven-character quatrains ("Wanglu Mountain Waterfall", "Wangtianmen Mountain", "Early Departure from Baidi City", etc.) have become famous in the prosperous Tang Dynasty. Chapter. Li Bai was already well-known in the Tang Dynasty. His poems were collected in various volumes, and he was the first person in the Chinese poetry circle. Shaoling Yelao, Du Shaoling, Du Gongbu, etc. were great realist poets in the Tang Dynasty of China and were known as the "Poetic Saints". They were originally from Xiangyang, Hubei Province and were born in Gongxian County, Henan Province (now Gongyi City). His distant ancestor was Du Yu, a famous poet in the Jin Dynasty. His ancestor was Du Shenyan, a poet in the early Tang Dynasty. His father, Du Xian, was an official in the Tang Dynasty. He later entered Shu and was recommended by his friend Yan Wu to serve as a staff officer in Jiannan Jiedu Prefecture. He was also called Wai Lang, a member of the Ministry of Industry and Commerce, so later generations also called him Du Shiyi and Du Gongbu. He wrote five poems about generals in Qiuxing, five poems about historical sites, and three officials: "Xin'an Officials", "Tongguan Officials", and "Shihao Officials". Three Farewells: "Farewell to the Newlyweds", "Farewell to the Elderly", and "Farewell to the Homeless". Wang Yue ascends the tower, titled Zhang's seclusion in the Yutai Temple, and the princes ascend the Ci'en Temple Pagoda. Untitled, diffuses the beauty of the plum rain. In the evening, it rains. In the new autumn, I look forward to the white dew, white silk, and the red sky. I go hunting in winter and I go on a short song. I give it to Wang Lang Sizhi's thatched cottage, which is broken by the autumn wind. I don't have any doubts. I walk on the stalagmites. I play the title of Wang Zai's painting of landscapes. I sing a drunken song. I give it to Yan Shaofu, the policeman. Please ask Gu Ba to write a poem on the wall when he was drunk, to introduce General Cao to watch the falling flowers in front of the boat in the wind and rain. The play is a new sentence. He paid a salary and walked high to protect Cong. Horses walked to the ancient cypresses to watch. Aunt Gongsun’s disciples danced with swords and went to look for Cui Jie in the dark day. Li Feng sent them Han remonstrated that the nan trees in Meibei were uprooted by the wind and rain. Two poems released during the Qingming Festival sent Confucius Chao's father to thank him for his illness and returned to the east of the Yangtze River. He also presented Li Baiwei's satirical record of events at home and watched General Cao's paintings of horses. Xuandu altar songs were sent to Yuan Yi people. A trip to the two temples in Daolin, Yuelu Mountain, a drunken singing trip to the south of the Yangtze River. In Li Gui's year, quatrains and three quatrains of Kuizhou songs. After drinking in the library, Li Shangshu was again invited to dismount his horse at night. He composed a quatrain play under the moon and presented six quatrains to the flower. The queen mourned at the head of the river and the king and his army marched in spring. Looking forward to the joyful rain on a spring night, the officials in the stone trenches bid farewell to the newlyweds and climb the high water sill to send their hearts to hear that the army has taken over Henan and Hebei provinces. Li Qingzhao (1084.2.5.~1155.4.10.) No. Yi'an lay, an outstanding female writer of the Southern Song Dynasty, a native of Jinan, Shandong, a sect of graceful poetry . Born in Zhangqiu, Shandong Province in the seventh year of Yuanfeng in the Northern Song Dynasty, he died in Lin'an at the age of seventy-two. In history, he was known as "Jinan Er'an" with Xin Qiji, a native of Licheng, Jinan. . When the spring comes, I lean on the railings, but there is no mood! The sky is full of grass, and I can't see the way back. I sit on the swing and feel the dew. , Thin sweat and light clothes. Seeing someone coming, the gold hairpin slips out of the stockings. He leans against the door and looks back, but smells the green plum in the cup. Wind. Rui Nao Xiang lulls the soul away from the dream, ward off the cold golden bun and pines, and the sky is red with candles when we wake up. The spring has already deepened by the idle window of the small courtyard in Huanxi Sha. The heavy curtains are not rolled up and the shadows are heavy. I lean against the building and listen to the Yao Qin speechlessly. The mountains in the distance are urging dusk, the wind is blowing and the rain is making the clouds light, and the pear blossoms are about to fade. Huanxi Sha, the spring light is dull and the food is cold, the jade furnace is sinking in the water, and the remaining smoke curls up. I dream of returning to the mountain pillow to hide the flowers. In the future, petrels are fighting for grass, Jiangmei has passed willow trees, and the rain at dusk makes the swing wet. The sound is slow and searching, deserted and miserable. It is most difficult to breathe when it is suddenly warm and then cold. How can three cups and two glasses of light wine defeat him, who comes late and is in a hurry? The wild geese are passing by, and I am sad, but it is an old acquaintance. The ground is covered with yellow flowers. Haggard and damaged, who is worthy of being picked off now? Watching the window, how can you be alone in darkness? The phoenix trees are covered with drizzle, and it rains bit by bit at dusk. This time, how could there be such a thing as "sorrow"! Complaints of heartfelt feelings. Late at night, I am too drunk to remove my makeup, and the calyx of the plum tree is inserted into the broken branches. Awakening from alcohol breaks the spring sleep, and the dream can never be returned. The people are quiet, the moon is shining, and the green curtains are hanging down. The more you move the remaining pistils, the more you pick up the remaining fragrance, you get more time. The sound of the Bodhisattva's return is broken and the clouds are green, and the snow falls from the window behind him and the smoke from the furnace is straight. The phoenix hairpin at the bottom of the candle is bright, and the person with the hairpin head is lighter. The sound of the trumpet urges the dawn to leak, and the dawn returns to the cow fight. It’s hard to see the flowers in spring, but the west wind leaves behind the old cold. Bodhisattva Man The wind is soft, the sun is thin and spring is still early, and I am in a good mood with my shirt on. It's slightly cold when I wake up, and the plum blossoms on my temples are still intact. Where is your hometown? Forget it unless you are drunk. It burns when lying down in water, but the fragrance has not disappeared and the wine has not disappeared. Good things are at hand. The wind is setting and the flowers are falling deep. There are red piles of snow outside the curtain. Chang remembers that after the begonias bloom, it is the time of spring. After the wine and singing, the jade statue is empty, and the green vat is dark and bright. The soul's dream is filled with resentment, and there is even a cry. Qing Ping Le Every year in the snow, I often plant plum blossoms to get drunk. I remove all the plum blossoms without any good intentions, which makes my clothes full of tears! This year, everywhere in the world, Xiao Xiao’s temples are blooming. Depending on the wind coming in the evening, plum blossoms should be difficult to see. Recalling Qin'e, Lin Gao Pavilion, the chaotic mountains and plains are covered with thin smoke. The smoke is thin, the crows return home, and the horns are heard in the dusk.

The fragrant fragrance is broken and the feelings are evil, and the west wind urges the parasol trees to fall. The parasol trees have fallen, but autumn colors are still there, and loneliness is still there. Tim Zi Picking Mulberry Who planted the banana tree in front of the window? The atrium is filled with shade; the atrium is filled with shade, and the leaves and leaves are relaxed and full of emotions. It rains in the middle of the night on my sad pillow, and it rains every bit; it rains every little bit, and it hurts the people of the north, who are not used to hearing it! Break up the Huanxi sand, knead the gold into thousands of pieces, and cut it into layers of jasper leaves. His demeanor and spirit are as vivid as Yanfu's. Plum pistils are heavy, why are they so vulgar? Lilacs are knotted with thousands of knots and are bitter. It makes people dream about thousands of miles, but it is ruthless. Spreading through the sand of Huanxi, my temples are rustling with illness. I lie down and look at the waning moon on the window screen. Fry the cardamom tips into water and do not use them as tea. It’s a good place to relax with poems and books on the pillow. The scenery in front of the door is beautiful when the rain comes. I borrow flowers and mignonette from many people all day long. In the spring of Wuling, the wind accompanies the dust and the fragrant flowers have all gone. I am tired of combing my hair at night. Things are different and people are not the same. Everything stops. If you want to speak, you will shed tears first. I heard that the spring in Shuangxi is still good, so I plan to take a boat trip. I'm afraid that the boat in Shuangxi will not be able to carry it, and I will be very sad. The drunken flowers are overcast, the mist is thick, the clouds are dark, and the day is long, and the auspicious brain sells the golden beast. It’s the Double Ninth Festival and the Double Ninth Festival. Jade pillows and gauze kitchens make it cool in the middle of the night. After dusk when I drink wine in Dongli, there is a faint fragrance filling my sleeves. There is no way that I am not in ecstasy. The west wind blows behind the curtain, and people are thinner than yellow flowers. Nan Gezi The stars and rivers in the sky are turning, and the curtains of the world are hanging down. The quilt on Liangsheng's pillow was stained with tears. He got up and took off his clothes and asked, "What kind of night is this?" The green lotus pods are small, and the gold-pinned lotus leaves are sparse. The weather is the same as the old clothes, only the feelings are different, the old home! Resentful King and Sun The wind blows on the lake and the waves are vast. Autumn is already late, and there are few reds and fragrant flowers. The beauty of the water, the mountains, and the intimacy with people are indescribable and infinitely good. The lotus seeds have become old and the lotus leaves are washed with green dew and apple blossoms. The gulls and herons sleeping in the sand do not look back, and they seem to hate that people return early. On a partridge day, the cold sun is rustling and the windows are locked. The phoenix trees should hate the frost at night. The wine shop prefers the bitterness of Tuancha, and the fragrance of Rui Nao is preferred when dreams are over. Autumn is over, the days are still long, and Zhongxuan Huaiyuan is even more desolate. It's better to get drunk in front of Fenzun, and don't bear the yellow chrysanthemum on the east fence. The partridge sky is dim and light yellow, the body is soft, and the love is far away, only the fragrance remains. Why does it need light blue and deep red? It is naturally the best among flowers. The plum blossoms are jealous, the chrysanthemums are ashamed, and the painting railings are opened to crown the Mid-Autumn Festival. The poet is so ruthless, why didn't he end up with nothing? In Yulouchun, red plum blossoms and red plum blossoms are willing to be broken into pieces, and they are blooming all over the southern branches? I don’t know how long it has been brewing, but I can see that it contains infinite meaning. The Taoist is haggard under the spring window, and the balcony is dull and worried. Come and take a break if you want to take a look. It may not be possible tomorrow. In Xiaochong Mountain, spring comes to Changmen, where the grass is green and the red plum blossoms are broken and not evenly blooming. The green cloud cage grinds the jade into dust, leaving behind the dream of dawn and shocking the spring. The shadows of flowers weigh heavily on the door, and the sparse curtains cover the pale moon. It's a good dusk. In the second year, I lost Dongjun for the third time and returned, intending to spend this spring. The courtyard of Linjiang Fairyland is much deeper, the cloud window and the foggy pavilion are often exposed, the willow branches and plum calyx gradually become clear, the moling tree returns in spring, and the old people build Kangcheng. There are so many things about feeling the moon and singing in the wind. Now I am old and have no achievements. I feel haggard and even more insignificant. There is no point in trying the lamp and I am not in the mood to walk in the snow. Linjiang Fairy Plum The courtyard is a little deeper, the clouds in the window and the foggy pavilion are late in spring, who is haggard and loses their beauty. It’s good to have clear dreams at night, and it should be from Nanzhi. The jade is thin and the sandalwood is light and infinitely hateful. The Qiang pipes in the south tower are no longer playing. Who knows when the strong fragrance blows away, but the warm wind will be too late to reach the apricot blossoms. Butterfly Loves Flowers The warm sun and clear wind have just broken through the frost. The willow eyes and plum blossom cheeks already feel the heartbeat of spring. Who has sex with the drunkenness and poetry? The tears melt into the remaining pink flowers. At first I try to clamp the gold thread seam on my shirt, I lean on the mountain pillow, and the hairpin head and phoenix are damaged by the pillow. Holding my arms alone is full of sorrow and I have no good dreams. The night is still full of lanterns and flowers. Butterfly Love Flower, sent to sisters by Changle Hall. Luo Yi is wet with tears and full of powder. Four folds of the sun pass, and I have sung it thousands of times. The human road is long and the water is broken, and the gentle rain is heard in the lonely hall. It's sad to say farewell, and we are so confused. We forget to leave. The wine cup is deep and shallow, so that we can pass the music and writings over the wild geese. Donglai is not as far away as Penglai. Die Lian Hua has already summoned his relatives, and the night is spent with little joy. He dreams of Chang'an in vain, and recognizes the road to Chang'an. In order to report the good spring scenery this year, it is better to take pictures of the flowers and the moonlight. Although the cups and plates are casual, the wine is delicious and the plums are sour, just like a person's embrace. Don't laugh when you are drunk and arranging flowers. Poor people are like spring. A cut of plum blossoms and the fragrance of red lotus root remain in the jade mat of autumn. He undressed Luo Shang lightly and boarded the orchid boat alone. Who in the clouds sent brocade books? When Yan Zi returns, the moon is full on the west tower. The flowers float and the water flows. One kind of lovesickness, two places of idle sorrow. There is no way to eliminate this feeling, so I just frown, but it is in my heart. The fisherman is proud. The sky is connected to the clouds and waves, and the dawn mist is connected. The stars are about to turn and a thousand sails are dancing. It is like the soul of a dream returning to the emperor's residence, hearing the words of the sky, and asking me diligently where I am going. I reported to the road leader that the sun was setting, and I learned a poem with an astonishing line; the wind of ninety thousand miles is rising, the wind has stopped, and the boat is blowing to three mountains. Fisherman's Proud It is known in the snow that spring has arrived, the winter plum blossoms are dotted on the branches, the fragrant face is half-opened and charming, and in the court, the beauty is bathing in fresh makeup. The good fortune may be intentional, so the moon shines brightly on the land. ***The bounty is respected by the green ants, don't quit being drunk, this flower is not comparable to other flowers. Reduced word magnolia. On the flower seller's basket, I bought a branch ready to bloom. The tears are stained lightly and evenly, but still have traces of the dawn dew. Pinglang guessed that slave noodles are not as good as flower noodles. The hairpin on the temples is slanted, and the apprentice wants to teach the man to compare and look at it. The auspicious partridge and the double ginkgo are not very charming and graceful, but the sweet orange in front of you can be a slave. Who can pity me who lives in the rivers and lakes, whose jade bones and ice muscles refuse to wither? Who taught me to pick branches together with stems and stems? After being drunk, Emperor Ming relied on Taizhen. The layman is really interested in breaking it apart. He wants to sing the new flavor of the two families. Nian Nujiao Spring Love The courtyard is deserted, there is a slanting wind and drizzle, and the heavy doors must be closed. Favoring willows, delicate flowers, cold food, and all kinds of annoying weather. The rhyme of the poem is complete, and it is a leisurely feeling to hold one's head up and wake up from the drunkenness. After the war is over, it’s hard to express all the worries. It has been cold in spring for a few days upstairs, the curtains hang down on all sides, and the jade railings lean against them. The cold incense will dispel new dreams and sleep, and you can't afford to worry about others. The clear morning dew flows, the new tung trees begin to bloom, what a spring outing! The sun is high and the smoke is gathering. Do you think it will be sunny today? Happy Birthday to Nanchang. When the weather is slightly cold, I look at the six leaves beside the sun and the first appearance of the steps. I want to hang a hibiscus on the scene of love, but the remaining silver arrows are thrown back into the bucket. On this occasion of celebrating Gao Hong, a bright pearl was cut off in the palm of my hand. If you have good looks and good qualities, you will meet a good wife. Up to now, the hall is filled with nobles and nobles. Glory, walking in the Forbidden City, with gold medals and green ribbons. It is more valuable that Tangdi is connected with Yin, tiger is in charge of Xiongshi, and Jiahe is guarded separately.

Kuang Qingyun is close at hand, and after entering Chengming day and night. Look at the colorful clothes competing for offerings, the orchids are ashamed of the jade wine. I wish you a long life, and use the pine tree to wish you longevity. Xingxiangzi The sky and the autumn light turn around the sadness of love, and explore Jin Yingzhi that the Double Ninth Festival is approaching. The first try on thin clothes, the new taste of green ants, gradually the wind, the rain, and the coolness. At dusk, the courtyard is desolate and panic-stricken, and when I wake up from the drunkenness, I feel sad about the past. It's an eternal night, the moon is bright and the bed is empty. When you hear the sound of an anvil pounding, the sound of crickets is thin and the sound of leaking is long. Xing Xiangzi, Chinese Valentine's Day, the cicadas sing in the grass, and the parasol trees fall in surprise, the world and the sky are filled with sorrow. The clouds, the moon and the earth are locked with thousands of layers of locks. Even if they come and go, they will not meet each other. The magpie rides on the star bridge, we only see each other after many years. If you want to leave love, don't hate it, it's hard to be poor. Morning Glory and Weaver Girl are nothing but Li Zhong. It will be sunny for a moment, rain for a moment, and windy for a moment. Lone Goose wakes up from sleep under the rattan bed and paper tent, with endless words and wonderful thoughts. The ashes of smoke are broken by the coldness of the jade furnace, and my feelings are like water. The flute played three times, the plum blossoms were broken, and there was so much love in spring. The gentle wind and drizzle made the ground rustle, prompting thousands more tears. When the flute player leaves the jade tower, who will he lean on with his broken heart? If you break a branch, there will be no one in the world or heaven to whom you can send it. The charming people feel the plum blossoms in the back pavilion. The jade is thin and fragrant, the sandalwood is deep and the snow is scattered. I hate that it is too late to explore the plum blossoms this year. Jianglou Chu Pavilion, the water is far between the clouds. The clear day is forever, leaning on the railing and the green curtain is rolled down. When a guest arrives, the wine in front of him is full, and the sound of singing is as loud as the water. The south branches can be planted, but they need to be pruned frequently. Don't wait for the west tower to sound the Qiang pipe several times. The courtyard is full of fragrance, the small pavilion hides spring, the idle window closes out the day, and the painting hall is infinitely deep and quiet. The seal incense is burned out, and the curtain hooks are cast under the shadow of the sun. It's better to plant Jiangmei by hand, so why bother to climb a building next to the water? No one is here, it's just like being lonely in Yangzhou. It has always been like a rhyme that beats the wind, but can't bear the rain and can't stand the wind. Whose horizontal flute can play the heavy sorrow? Don't regret the fragrance disappearing and the jade diminishing. You must believe in the truth and sweep away the traces. In an unspeakable place, there is a bright moonlight in a good window, and the sparse shadows are still romantic. I recall playing the flute on the Phoenix stage. The fragrant and cold golden turtle was rolled over by the red waves. I got up and combed my hair lazily. Ren Bao's dowry is covered with dust, and the sun is hanging on the curtain hook. Afraid of the pain of separation, there are so many things that I want to talk about but I still have to stop. Being new and thin is not due to illness and wine, nor is it a sad autumn. Rest! If I go back to Yangguan thousands of times, it will be difficult to stay. People who read Wuling are far away, and the smoke locks the Qin Tower. Only the running water in front of the building should miss me and stare at me all day long. From now on, there is a new sorrow in the place where I stare. Celebrating the Qing Dynasty slowly, the bans and gates are low, and the railings are cleverly guarded, so that they can monopolize the remaining spring. The guests are indifferent and show their innocence. After the flowers have passed, a new look will appear. Enchanting and gorgeous, jealous of the wind and the moon, and a long-term (evil belt) Dong Jun. On the edge of the east city, on the south road, there is the Zhengri Hengchi Pavilion, where people race on the incense wheel. When the feast is over, who can succeed Fang Chen? It's better to be in the palace of bright light. A few branches are close to the sun and even out, the golden statue falls down, and all the candles are used up, regardless of the dusk. Everlasting Happiness The setting sun melts gold, the dusk clouds merge together, where are the people? The willows are dyed with thick smoke, and the plum flute is played with resentment. How much do you know about the spring spirit? During the Lantern Festival, the weather is harmonious, and there will be no wind and rain? Come to greet him, bring him a car and a BMW, and thank him for his wine, friends, and poets. It's a prosperous day in Zhongzhou, and there is a lot of free time in the boudoir. Remember to focus on the three or five. Cover with emerald green crowns, pick up gold and snow willows, and fight for the benefit of Chu. Now I am haggard, my hair is covered with frost, and I am afraid of going out at night. It's better to go under the curtain and listen to people's laughter. Dolly Ode to the White Chrysanthemum The small building is cold, the night is long and the curtains are drooped. Hate Xiaoxiao, ruthless wind and rain, the night comes and rubs the beautiful skin. It doesn't look like the imperial concubine's drunken face, nor does it look like Sun Shou's frown. Han Ling steals the fragrance, Xu Niangfu fans, don't compare it with the novel, take a closer look, Qu Ping Tao Ling, the charm is just right. The breeze rises, and the fragrance brews, not reducing the fragrance. Autumn is approaching, the snow is clear and the jade is thin, relying infinitely on people. It seems like sorrow is condensing, Han Fu is undressing, like tears are falling, Wan fan is writing poems. The moon is bright, the breeze is clear, the smoke is thick and the rain is dark, the heavenly religion is haggard and thin. Even though I cherish it, I don’t know how long I will keep it from now on. The favor is good, why should we remember it more? The east fence beside the river. The auspicious partridge and the double ginkgo are not very charming and graceful, but the sweet orange in front of you can be a slave. Who can pity me who lives in the rivers and lakes, whose jade bones and ice muscles refuse to wither? Who taught me how to pick branches with stems and stems together? After being drunk, Emperor Ming relied on Taizhen. The layman is really interested in breaking it apart. He wants to sing the new flavor of the two families. Like a dream, I often remember that the sun is setting in the creek pavilion, and I am so drunk that I don’t know my way back. Returning to the boat late after all the fun, I strayed into the depths of lotus flowers. Fighting for the crossing, fighting for the crossing, startling a pool of gulls and herons. Like a dream, it rained and the wind blew suddenly last night, and the remaining wine could not be consumed by a heavy sleep. When I asked the person behind the curtain, I found that Begonia was still the same. Do you know, do you know, it should be green fat, red and thin. Nian Nujiao Spring Love The courtyard is deserted, there is a slanting wind and drizzle, and the heavy doors must be closed. Favoring willows, delicate flowers, cold food, and all kinds of annoying weather. The rhyme of the poem is complete, and it is a leisurely feeling to hold one's head up and wake up from the drunkenness. After the war is over, it’s hard to express all the worries. It has been cold in spring for a few days upstairs, the curtains hang down on all sides, and the jade railings lean against them. The cold incense will dispel new dreams and sleep, and you can't afford to worry about others. The clear morning dew flows, the new tung trees begin to bloom, what a spring outing! The sun is high and the smoke is gathering. Do you think it will be sunny today? Summer Quatrains (Poetry) Live as a hero, and die as a ghost. I still miss Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong. Su Shi (1037-1101), also known as Zizhan and Hezhong, also known as "Dongpo Jushi", was given the posthumous title of "Wenzhong" by Emperor Gaozong of the Southern Song Dynasty. He was a native of Meishan, Meizhou (now Meishan, Sichuan), Han nationality. The eldest son of his father Su Xun was a famous writer, calligrapher, painter, essayist and poet in the Northern Song Dynasty. When will the bright moon appear? Ask the sky for wine.

Three parts of the spring scenery, two parts of the dust, one part of the flowing water. Who left the stone screen? There are traces of ink and ink on it. I hope that people will live forever. A thousand miles away, the people of Chanjuan have their joys and sorrows. The moon is cloudy and sunny, but it lacks a little aura. Thousands of miles away, the wind looks back. It has always been a desolate place. When I return, there is no wind, rain or sunshine. The bamboo stick and mango shoes can beat the horse lightly. Who is afraid? Let the misty rain fall for the rest of my life! I pick up all the cold branches and refuse to live there. There are few willow cotton blowing on the cold branches on the lonely sandbank. There is no grass anywhere in the world. The laughter gradually disappears and the sound becomes quieter. I am sentimental but I am ruthlessly annoyed. I always hate that this body is not mine. Yes, when did we forget about camp? The boat passed away from then on, and the remaining years of my life were left in the river and sea. Life and death were uncertain for ten years. ． Don't think about it. ． Unforgettable since I went eastward across the Yangtze River, all the waves were gone, and the romantic figures of the ages wandered to the ends of the earth and thought endlessly! Now that we have met, I want to express my longing for you. I shed a thousand tears, but they cannot be shed. There is love in the east of Chujiang, and the tide is coming. I send the tide ruthlessly and say goodbye. Everything turns around in vain. Before I turn around, we all dream of meeting each other. I am drunk and the love is already high. Chasing the dawn sky, not dreaming of pear blossoms, I want to compare the West Lake to the West. Light makeup and heavy makeup are always suitable. I don’t know the true face of Mount Lu. Just because I am here in the mountains, a spring night is worth a lot of money. The flowers are fragrant, and the moon is full of flowers and butterflies are flying on the shadowy road. The country and the mountains are like those of the past. The rich and noble people are showing their hair. Behind them, the flowers on the streets are romantic. The old hairpins are not ashamed of themselves. The flowers should be ashamed of the old people's heads. The rivers and mountains are so unrequited. The river god sees strange police. I am a stubborn person like Qiu Hong. There is a letter. Things are like a spring dream without a trace. Thousands of trees at the head of the river are about to get dark in spring. It is better to be brothers with you from generation to generation. Because there are two or three peach blossoms outside the bamboo, the water in the spring river is warm. I don’t hate the duck prophet who died in the southern wilderness. This is the best time in your life! Who embellishes the scattered clouds and the bright moon, the sky is clear and clear, and the sky is low, and the falcons are nowhere to be seen. When the green mountains rise, it is the mist and rain of Lushan Mountain in the Central Plains, and the tide of Zhejiang. Before it arrives, I can't help but miss the prime minister in white. Liu Yong (about 987-about 1053) , a native of Chong'an (now Wuyishan, Fujian). Poet of the Northern Song Dynasty, founder of the Wanyue School. The original name was Sanbian, with the courtesy name Jingzhuang. Later, his name was changed to Yong, with the courtesy name Qiqing. Ranked seventh, also known as Liu Qi. He was a Jinshi in the Renzong Dynasty of the Song Dynasty, and became a tuntian Yuanwailang. In his old life, he was called Liu tuntian. Due to the bumpy official career and poor life, he turned from pursuing fame to becoming tired of officialdom. He indulged in the beautiful and prosperous urban life and found sustenance in "leaning on the red and nestling in the green" and "singing in a low voice". As the first ci writer in the Northern Song Dynasty who devoted himself to writing lyrics, he not only developed the theme and content of ci words, but also produced a large number of slow ci words, developed narrative techniques, promoted the popularization and colloquialism of ci words, and produced a relatively large number of poems in the history of ci words. Big impact. Jingyou was a Jinshi and a foreign official in the field. He was dissolute and unruly, and lived in poverty all his life. When he died, prostitutes donated money for his burial. His poems mostly describe the city scenery and the life of singing girls, and are especially good at expressing the feelings of traveling and traveling. The lyrics are widely circulated, "Anyone who has a well to drink from can sing willow lyrics." There is "Collection of Movements". The rain is ringing, the cicadas are mournful, it is late in the pavilion, and the showers are beginning to stop. There is no trace of drinking in the capital tent, and the orchid boat destroys the hair in the place of nostalgia. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked. Thoughts go by, thousands of miles of mist, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast. Since ancient times, sentimental feelings have hurt parting, and even more embarrassing and neglected Qingqiu Festival. Where can I wake up from my drunkenness tonight? On the bank of willows and the waning moon in the morning breeze. After so many years, it should be a good time and good scenery. Even if there are thousands of customs, who can tell them? Die Lian Hua stands leaning against the dangerous building and the gentle breeze blows, looking at the extremely sad spring, the gloomy sky. In the lingering light of the grass-colored smoke, there is no word as to who would lean on the fence. I plan to get drunk and sing to the wine, but the strong music is still tasteless. The belt becomes wider and wider, but I don't regret it anymore. I feel haggard because of the beauty. Looking at the sea tide, the southeast shape is beautiful, Sanwu City, Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times. Smoked willow painted bridges, wind curtains and green curtains, there are hundreds of thousands of homes. Clouds and trees surround the dike and sand. Angry waves roll up frost and snow, and the sky is boundless. The city is lined with pearls, the households are full of luxury goods, and the luxury is high. There are many lakes and Qingjia. There are osmanthus seeds in three autumns and lotus flowers in ten miles. The Qiang pipe clears the sky, the watermelon song fills the night, and the old lotus babies play and fish. Thousands of horses and tall teeth. Get drunk and listen to the drums and chant the haze. There will be good scenery in the future, go back to Fengchi to praise it. The eight sounds of Ganzhou are reflected in the Xiaoxiao dusk rain that sprinkles the river sky to wash away the autumn. The wind is getting colder and frostier, the Guanhe River is deserted, and the remaining light shines on the building. The redness and greenness of this place have declined, and the beauty of the place has ceased. Only the water of the Yangtze River flows eastward without words. I can't bear to climb high and look far away, looking at the distance of my hometown. I can't bear to think about it. Sighing at the traces of the past years, what trouble is left behind? Thinking of a beautiful woman, I look up at the building. I miss it a few times, and I know that I have returned to the boat. Zhengzhimei, leaning against the lantern, is staring at melancholy (also known as "Ningmu"). Set the storm Since spring comes, the green is sad and the red is sad, and the heart is full of things. On the bright sun, orioles wear willow belts and lie still under incense quilts. The warmth disappears, and the greasy clouds enjoy the meal. I'm tired and combing my clothes all day long. None! Once the hatred and ruthlessness are gone, there will be no message or letter. If I had known this, I would have regretted not locking the carved saddle. To the chicken window, only with the barbarian paper elephant in charge, restraint to teach chanting lessons. Stay with me, don't hide. I sit with Yi while sewing and threading. Come with me, so that your young years will not be wasted. Cranes soar to the sky, on the gold list, but occasionally miss the lead. How to pay tribute to the virtuous people temporarily left in the Ming Dynasty? If the situation fails, there will be no need to talk about gains and losses. A talented poet is naturally a prime minister in white clothes. Fireworks in the alleys, picturesque barriers according to the agreement. Fortunately, I find the right person to look for. And nestle in the red and green, and your romantic affairs will be smooth in your life. Youth lasts for a while. Forbearing the false reputation, I drank the wine and sang in a low voice. Huang Ying'er Who owns the garden on a sunny day and in spring? The warm rhythm is latent, the valley is harmonious, the orioles are flying, and the fragrant trees are suddenly moving. Watching the dew wet golden clothes, the leaves reflect like whispers. The branches on the branches at dawn seem to be whispering their hearts and deep meanings. No evidence. As soon as the warm smoke comes out, the bees disappear again. Wild traces, two by two calling each other, finally singing in the wind and dancing in the fog. When I was a willow farmer in Shangyuan, I was deep in the flowers in the villa. At this time, Haiyan was partial to Rao, and I gave up my time. The snowy plum blossoms are fragrant, the scenery is desolate, and the dilapidated building stands alone in the clear sky. Song Yu responded to the sad autumn mood at that time. The lonely smoke in the fishing market is cold and green, and the remaining leaves in the water village dance in sad red. The Chu sky is vast, the waves are soaked in the setting sun, and thousands of miles are melting. I miss the beauty when facing the wind, I look sad after leaving, and my eyebrows are narrowed. It's a pity that the rain and clouds were all over the place that year.

The elegant and graceful posture is harmonious, the falling flowers and flowing water suddenly appear from the west to the east. There is no hatred and hatred, but love and affection, and I will give my all to Zhenghong. Colorful clouds return, Henggao sails toward the evening boat. Qie Yunfan, Shuiyi Fish Village. At dusk, the sky is as clear as a clear painting, the river is quiet, and the bright moon is shining brightly. That Kan Ting, Qiang Guan from a distant village, leads away people to break their hearts. At this time, the waves are flowing and the wind is flowing, and the years are endless. It hurts. The morning and evening feasts are sentimental and endowed with desolation. It's the most bitter thing to say goodbye, but as promised, there is still fragrance left in the sleeves. If you think about it, you will have a mandarin duck quilt and a phoenix pillow, and you will never think about it at night. In the place of love, only when there is a difference, a sentence will be unforgettable.