Until today, no one has offered sacrifices to the tomb of Wang Ling in the Han and Tang Dynasties. There are many pear trees on the road between the stream and the river.
The wind is fragrant and dew is heavy and pear is wet, and there is no lamp sorrow in the hut.
Suddenly, like a night wind blowing, like a pear tree in bloom.
The courtyard is lonely and the spring scenery is dying; Pear flower falls, close the door.
I wonder who this beautiful night belongs to.
Pear blossoms are quiet and birds live.
Qushui fragrance does not return, and pear blossoms fall into the autumn garden.
In March, pear blossoms flew in Luoyang, and pedestrians in Qin recalled spring.
When you are surrounded by pear blossoms, it is the water color in February.
The garden is new to Japan, and the spring wine drinks pear flowers.
A tall branch still deceives birds by sticking out its tongue, and a pear flower with leaves sends spring alone.
The blue mountains are reflected in the distance, and the night breeze in pear flower falls is a tree.
Pear blossoms and a pile of snow, who will do it next year?
The dragon believes that pear flowers want to live, and grass should grow on the door.
Three, spending the night in the snow shouldn't hurt China. Just because spring is coming to an end, I keep pear flowers.
Plum blossoms are thin, Sydney is rainy, and the mind is not fragrant.
When the sun sets, there is no one in the deep lane, and pear blossoms fly in pieces.
Huangmaodian in Pear Flower Garden embroiders the same cold night in spring.