Plum blossoms flying snow, Qian Qian fell in love with prose.

Plum blossoms are snowing, and they have fallen in love with Qian Qian.

A few stingrays, and then report to Ren Fangfei for rest. Cherish the spring and break the red. The rain is small and the wind is fierce, and the plum blossoms are green. Yongfeng willow, no one is full of snow.

Don't pull strings, you can talk about it. The sky is not old, and the love is hard to break. The heart is like a double screen with a Qian Qian knot in it. The night has passed and the east window is not white.

-Zhang Song Xian "Chitose years, counting rags"

When I read this word, it happened to be the cold winter in Guangzhou, and Huzhou must have been a remnant wind and light snow. Hundreds of years ago, Ye Zi was handy. She was famous for her insight into the east wind and the bright moon in the Northern Song Dynasty. After singing a sentence, all the warmth is revealed in the town, and the tender feelings like water are sharp-edged in the field of poetry and painting, unscathed in the tender building, and safe and sound under the rolling world of mortals.

Yes, at first, Ye Zi's brilliant ci style will also approach this famous gifted scholar and uncle. Although Yan Shu doesn't have the reputation of being a talented woman, there is a saying that "the heart is like a double screen with a Qian Qian knot inside", which is like a white poem written in sequence. It is a bunch of flowers, peaches and apricots, a painting pavilion, which falls under the east wind with no solution. It is a slow word that stumbles into people's hearts.

I don't know if Zhang Tuo is the same as me when splashing ink. He watched people coming and going in the bustling city and listened to farewell in the deserted alley. It is speculated that Ye Zi may not have the same intention as me. Zhang Laodang circled the shuttle of time in front of the book case with a bright candlelight path, with mottled tenderness. Looking through the stories of ancient notes, I am idle, but bored. Looking at the sadness between the lines and listening to the joys and sorrows outside the song, I am always so empty and powerless.

The cold wind shone on the wax and plums began to blossom. In Bai Causeway Dojo, I was holding a string of ancient rhyme songs and Yue's lyrics, which were so touching. I know that I have been tirelessly reading Chitose, and Zhang always agrees, because he knows that I was sent by him, with faint thoughts and distant emotional appeal, for nothing else, just because I was entangled in lingering knots. Yes, just like Ye Zi resigned herself to fate under her own woven silk screen.

Rhododendron is singing in the sky, full of spring. It seems that only the cuckoo's cry can set off the passing of spring, and only in this way can we add a little color to the lost time and lonely people. The dim night makes people sad, and that kind of twilight adds to the lovesickness of boudoir women. The residual red is folded, and some people are blooming. In the night of melancholy dreams, I cherish spring and don't sleep at the bottom of the ditch. I saw a cold lamp shining with wax, and someone was sitting around with a screen window on his back, worried about the residual red scattered all over the place, trying to hold it tightly but nowhere to be found. The rain is small and the wind is fierce, and the plum blossoms are green. In the sentimental situation, the affection between the girl and the boy in the poem is like a plum blossom in the early stage, and a dull gale episode comes. This expressionless rainstorm mercilessly bombarded the early plums. At this time, Yuanyang's feelings are like being split in half by a big knife, and no one can escape this disaster. Under the situation of the times, the women in the ci can only silently accept the arrival of suffering. Although spring comes, flying flowers fall, and tenderness is better than snow. Yongfeng willow, reflecting the residual snow, there is no one left in the garden. Suddenly, I remembered Qu Zi and said, "I'm afraid it will fade first, so as not to make my husband's grass smell bad." Yes, even the grass forgot to bloom in the groan of cuckoo, and we who are flesh and blood, under the emotional agitation, who can play the flagpole forgotten when leaving, and have no nostalgia under the carving of time? What's more, you can't find a place to cry when you die, and you can rest if you hate wheatgrass until you come back in spring. The poor woman's feelings for many years will be wasted, just like passers-by's haste, and like strong old wine, no matter how bitter or spicy it is, it must be swallowed in one gulp. Although spring is good, fate is inevitable, and falling flowers have no intention of making spring breeze, which makes people snuggle up and have nowhere to rely on.

At this moment, the wind is tight and the rain is light, the flowers are falling, the ice is clear, and the cuckoo's bloody cry gradually fades away when it is helpless. The true feelings of boxing and weeping willows are intertwined. At this moment, my lover's concubine's heart is as lonely as ash.

Wan Juan, sound dust, worry about pipa strings. This wisp of melancholy, nowhere to pour out, stirred in her heart again. At this point, she is utterly confused. Think about her early heart, and now she can only sing a few songs to show her respect. Singing a song hurts people. Please don't pluck the strings of that ancient pipa. You are not the best pianist in the world. How can you keep playing with the sadness in my heart? I am full of lovesickness. Who can cure me? You are not me, how can you know my sadness? No matter how old the day is, no one makes it up, and it is hard to get rid of it. Li He of Shi Gui once said, "If there is love in the sky, it will grow old", but yes, the love in Ye Zi's works has nothing to do with the existence of God. Gao Xiao people are old, and all their feelings are like water, which can't be waved away. Love here is higher than the sky and deeper than the sea. When people went to the eastern part of Hua Shao, their love at that time was faintly undiminished. Yes, there is love infatuation in the world, but they only hate it. You know, every meeting is a departure from past lives. If you meet in this life, you must devote yourself to it. Life is only a few decades. Since you love, you should love deeply, even if you can't beat Yuanyang, it's not a waste of the world of mortals.

If the heart has a net, it has its own Qian Qian knot. I still remember, at that time, the starry sky was deep, the flowers were splendid, the white clothes were fluttering, the youth was beautiful, and we met at the right time under the breeze. You, put black tea on your temples, gently twist the pipa, and come with elegant Sanskrit sound. At night, it looks like a woman with a bronze door and a deep wall. The man couldn't help admiring her, so he walked up to the man in three steps and listened carefully. After a caress, the girl noticed the arrival of the man, and it turned out to be a smile that could never end. At this moment, the man saw the time back in her eyes, and it was that moment that aroused the tenderness and admiration of the man. The woman shyly lowered her eyebrows and hugged the pipa lightly, and their feelings were lingering.

In those youthful years, a loving heart was like all-encompassing silks and satins. Squeezing an inch from the eyebrows is a lot of affection, but there is no way to start hugging each other. Women keep daydreaming, and for a long time in the future, he will be accompanied by his ink in Huatang Lake and his poems in ordinary alleys. Thought of here, the woman's shy cheeks gently raised a smile. In countless afternoons when flowers are in full bloom, men fill words with wine, splash ink with tea, women gently pull and sing, and occasionally dance and dance, thus weaving a legendary romance.

Flowers fall after the rain, but the east is not white at midnight, and the waning moon is often accompanied. A roll of old times is a melancholy in people's hearts. What I just didn't expect was that the farewell person would never come back, and even the carrier pigeons who delivered the letters were weak and incompetent. One night, the moon in Zhu Jiang was very cold and the white head was smiling. Unfinished feelings, the spring night has gone, the east window can't understand the moon, and it's hard to tell Qian Qian's heart in vain. Even two of a kind, who swore an oath, was so strong that he had to bow his head and leave. After leaving, I miss you and remember your heart. I can't give you my love. I have a beautiful bald head.

Thrush crowing, spring scenery full of gardens, beautiful scenery in that year, Zhu Jiang hand in hand to draw a boat. When time passes, it comes and goes in a hurry. Who can pity it? Flowers and willows are complex, Chun Lv is red, feelings are still the same, temples are still the same, and the volume is hard to pay. Those young passions, those brilliant affairs, Ye Zi must also be nostalgic:

That dusty event in Qian Shan.

Flowers and waning moons, snow and willows

Touching vows, strange and bright words

Those stories about past lives's repayment.

The battered world of mortals.

What the hell is going on?

Only a weak string can play your song.

Lonely words can write down your lovesickness

It was that relationship that became a net.

On a sad night

After all, I am still alone.

What is this?

In exchange for the snuggling of time.

Smiling faces of employees

A solitary lamp glowed with wax. That night, someone gently lit the candle, but could not light the inner love lamp. In the silent night, they can only sing a solo, write a beautiful lovesickness, and make a new decision in frivolous gentleness. Perhaps only in this way can the poet find himself in the vast sea of people. A flower flew away, but it was spring, and the wind was so sad. Yes, how deep it is, the catkins are flying. In those flying years, there was a man who was independent of the cabinet and could not be calm for a long time.