If you know how good I am willing to give my life for you.
You are a guest in the cloud, and I take a boat from the sky.
You are from Hangzhou. I used to go fishing.
Ten years of cold window, nine to eight thoughts of acacia, forget the past.
An old friend, two glasses of old wine, three thoughts about lifelong love.
Flying flowers are floating, dresses are dancing, and how many feelings are flying.
Sleeves are flowing, fingers are condensed and clear water is floating.
After a hundred nights, who turns the lantern for me, who leans against the door to watch the fireworks for thousands of years.
There are few stars at night, who holds the lamp for me and who waits for the loneliness of the Millennium by leaning against the door alone.
Can someone help me with my arm? Unparalleled for thousands of years.
Who can pour my heart, an inch of land is like vanity.
Flying flowers and floating flocs. Dress and dance. How many feelings are flying.
Wide sleeves and clouds. The fingers of the piano are compressed. Clear water lotus leaves are noisy.
The south wind dreams of not returning.
I hope to spend the rest of my life with you.
The lonely mountain has no guests, no trips, no songs, no strings and no bamboo.
There is no tea, no wine, no words, no loneliness.
Climb the solitary base, the desolate pavilion, and look at Yanzhu.
I'm a little annoyed with the female neon hanging in the rain and the strong wind blowing on the threshold.
The breeze is not drunk, and the west moon is busy with pear blossoms.
Blue light never goes out, pens drag, pillows scrape, and books are bleak for a hundred days. You should be elegant.
The bamboo shadow is mottled and the water is empty, and the indus deep courtyard locks in the clear autumn.
Eternal love seems to meet again, and new sadness has become a hoary head.
If the years are long and carefree, and the rings are long, it seems unstoppable.
It's not an illusion to say I love you and set a time to come back to your life.
If life is just like the first time, you don't have to draw a fan in the autumn wind.
It is easy to change, and it is also easy to change.
In the Jianghu, I wanted to sing the world with my sword.
People are destined to wander in the rivers and lakes. It is also said that the bamboo building is at the foot of Nanshan.
Whispering love stories and writing love pictures.
Open a love flower and cover a blue tile.
Drink old wine and taste new wine. Forget the past, get drunk on your pillow and watch the sunset.
Regardless of good and evil, arguing with each other is just a common thing.
Poetry and books teach close reading and draw pictures of romantic figures.
Take your hand from your footsteps, put on a cloak and snow, and embark on the road of impermanence.
* * * Drink a cup of green tea and grind a bowl of green sand.
Roll up the veil and look at the crescent moon in the sky.
Don't suffer. Zeng Xiao's suffering is like an erosion of the soul. He can't bear to part with that fleeting time.
Mo Liyan and where will you go interpreted the injury as a passer-by.
On a moonlit night in Yin Hui, the Milky Way was dancing and falling in love.
At dusk, the sun is shining and the sky is red.
If you can, please don't forget to be together.
If you can, don't be at arm's length and regret it.
Let the heart burn into a fire, burn through this silence and cover the world with ashes.
Let the efforts converge into a river, the bubble will surge, and then there will be no aftermath.
Quiet, flowers like the moon, missing, never retreat.
Night, who is cold, never changes, unconsciously.
Passing clouds and smoke, flowing water produces flowers, how much I worry about the present.
In the command room, people are all wrong, and human feelings are hard to break.
Like a heart like water, like a feeling like water, the eyes are bright and clear.
Rouge bank, acacia dye, snow dance shock memory blue.
The sunset was silent. Lonely and speechless. Dig a hole and bend it. Looking at it, it's endless.
It is raining heavily tonight. I raised my glass in dismay. This life can only be like this. Meet again in a dream
I've been thinking, I'm confused about who it is.
The night is hard to disappear, and music is like a dream.
How to persuade people to return to Buddha in Zen bell? In exchange for tears, I fell to the West Lake in March.
But I know that previous lives were carved in stone. If Jiayuan has a dream, how many people will get it?
You are a scar that I can't get rid of when I drown in the deep sea.
You are the wound I hit on the south wall.
I don't talk nonsense, how can I deserve your high-heeled black silk.
I am not vicious, how can I deserve your charm.
In the forest, there are butterflies, curtains and swallows.
Green trees and moss, half sunset, think more.
You are a dream that can't be awakened by the west wind, and you are a wine that can't be swallowed with tears.
Your heart is broken, you dare not forget it, you are willing to gouge out your heart and don't want to let go.
Wild geese fall flat sand, smoke cages are cold, and Gu Lei breaks.
The green hills are faint, the leaves are rustling, and the crows in the sky are chaotic.
You turned around and lit a fire, thinking that the past could be completely burned.
You turned around and drank a pot of wine, thinking that you would have a hangover for the rest of your life.
Everything is bright, green core, spring dew and moonlight are carried repeatedly.
When the snow first overflowed, cherry blossoms floated around and went boating in the lake.
Chrysanthemum, wine, sweet-scented osmanthus and fragrant incense swept the rivers and lakes in Tsing Yi.
The eyebrows hidden in the sleeves are frosted, and the whole body is cold and shocking.
I love you like a bird in the deep forest.
I love you like a stream holding my feet.
Make a fire in the tent, make tea in the mountains and make wine by the river.
Under the moon, under my father's tree, flowers smell clouds before drunken cranes.
The wind and frost between the eyebrows is like a sheath for ten years.
There is no hope in the eyes, like a sword, breaking the half-life feud.