The pillow is fragrant, and the flower diameter leaks. Meet each other and whisper after dusk. The season is thin and cold, the wine is sick, the pear blossom shovel, and the east wind is thin all night.

Cover the silver screen and hang down your sleeves. Where the flute is played, the pulse is slightly funny. Heartbroken moon and cardamom, the moon seems to be at that time, and people seem to be at that time.

Blue wet mourning

There are too many sad things recently. Who can I tell about the long night? Everything is subject to fate. In early spring, the green shadows are dancing outside the window, the geese are returning, and the orioles are singing and dancing, and tears are streaming down their faces.

I enjoyed the beautiful scenery with you in the past, but now I have lost it and failed to live up to my past affection. Suddenly a gust of wind blew and the breeze shook. I thought it was your soul, but I can only wait for the end of love.

Qinyuanchun

Three days before Ding Si's Double Ninth Festival, the woman who died in the dream was dressed in plain clothes, holding her hand and sobbing. Many words have been forgotten. However, there is a parting cloud: "I hope to hate the sky and the moon, but I will still pay a New Year call to Yuen Long every year." I don't know why I got this, because I didn't write a poem, but I felt endowed after I felt it.

It's so unlucky that it's fleeting. How can you forget it when you are depressed? Remember to embroider the couch when you are free, and blow and rain; Carve a hole, bend a corner and lean against the sunset. Dreams are hard to stay, poems can't be long, and you win deeper tears. The body is still there, but my spirit is soaring. I am not allowed to see it anymore.

Find the blue sky again. Short hair is expected, and there will be frost in the future. It is heaven and earth, and the dust is unbreakable; Spring flowers and autumn leaves still hurt. If you plan ahead, you will be surprised and lose all the fragrance of Xun Yu yesterday. Really helpless, the sound of money is adjacent to the flute, and the ileum records.

In mid-July, the fourth night is stormy, and tomorrow is the birthday of the dead woman.

Dust filled the curtains and floated around, which really made the darkness miserable. A few times, I secretly wiped my shirt tears and suddenly saw Cui Qiao next to the rhinoceros.

Only hate becomes boring. Fifth, it is still in the morning. The withered poplar leaves are difficult to finish, and the cold rain and wind hit the bridge.

Nan Xiangzi wrote an inscription for his dead wife.

Tears are silent, only regret to get rid of fickle feelings, and rely on the painter to keep knowledge. Yingying. You can't draw it if you are sad.

Don't be too specific Wake up early in the middle of the night. Qing wakes up early and dreams more. Call the rain bell at night.

I felt this hatred when the dead woman died.

Lost step, cold rain rest, buried flowers. I had a long dream for three years. I think I woke up. Material also has feelings, and the world is tasteless. Not as cold and lonely as the dust on the night platform. The card issuer made a promise, but then abandoned it.

If there are Pisces in Chongquan. It is good to know him, who he has been suffering from, and who he is relying on. I turned around from midnight, and I endured listening to Xiang Xian's excuse. When it's over, he'll know himself. I'm afraid it's unlucky for both of them, and they're going to live in the wind and sleep outdoors again. Clear tears, confetti.

I know several mourning poems about Nalan.