A dream with you for a thousand years has turned into a rain of acacia, which is popular all over the world.

Wan Li is empty, and a dream with you for a thousand years has turned into a rain of lovesickness, which is popular all over the world.

A song full of passion, full of blood, often get together in dreams tonight, drunk with wine.

Smiling vaguely, wandering under the moon after waking up from a dream, longing to tell the red tone, tears filled my cheeks.

A tree of red plums warms the heart like fire, and the cold wind blows acacia with the moon.

I don't know, no one complains, and the red fine print is crazy.

Empty storage goes with the flow, but I haven't changed my dream. My feelings are sent to heaven with red notes.

Peach blossoms are full of apricot branches, and I want to cry, and I miss my dreams in the wind.

Three thousand miles, twelve floors, don't write your heart in fine print.

The sky is high and wild, and I vaguely remember my old face, and the sunset glow is red.

Half the world is empty, and a dream is like a floating canopy. Don't change your ambition, laugh at the sunset.

A passionate Dan Xin, a man who always thinks about Mao Zedong.

In my dream, the south of the Yangtze River is foggy and rainy, and the green water is empty. I am eager to tell you that I am red.

The ship Wan Li is empty, and the soul dreams with you. It's hard to complain about the hazy scenery of falling red.

If you don't cry, you will be inclined and fall into the water.

White-haired ladies shed tears, lowered their hands and eyebrows, and could not bear to sing. They are always concerned about the temperature changes in the Spring and Autumn Period.

Watching fishing, Weng Yi talks about Sang Ma, rising and falling several times in the Spring and Autumn Period, and having a cup of tea on earth.

Spring and autumn brushwork, warm and cold world, don't say "grow old together, rich and glorious."

Look at the world in the spring and autumn, write about life at will, don't ask the rivers and lakes, just catch the white head and sell wine.

How did you meet? When you are old, you just have one finger in the spring and autumn, and you don't need much human warmth.

The vicissitudes of life in the spring and autumn period and half a century are well known. Bald men are old, and the sunset glow shines on willows.

Whitehead is relatively boring, and he is still alive when he is old. Thirty years of spring and autumn is like a dream, and the world is cold and warm.

A few years of spring and autumn are thick, and it is always difficult to rest when it is warm and cold.

Weng Yi faltered, lowered his head and hung his eyebrows. Spring and Autumn is a thing of the past, and the world is always cold and warm.

Gone with the wind, in winter in Ren Woxing, Xia Chunqiu, fishing for the bright moon, Chinese Pulsatilla enjoys a happy life.

Sighing in the air, catching smoke in the Weihe River, common things in the Spring and Autumn Period, a cup of tea on earth.

At night, the stars hang down the Beidou, Weng You sits in the west wing, and the joys and sorrows of Spring and Autumn are gathered together.

Who is like a gentleman in spring and autumn? I don't know if I'm young when I'm old.

In just a few years, it's great to go or stay, so don't go fishing for the prince of Whitehead Water.

The west wind blows cold and warm, and in the East China Sea of Hideteru in Spring and Autumn, the mountains and rivers are all white.

The water man hasn't come back yet, and Mo and Weng have already occupied half of the country.

Xiao Qiaodong, A Dai Li Weng, was mistaken for Jiang Gong in the late morning.

An old man, sitting alone in the autumn wind fishing, did not feel the sunset with a pole, laughing at the fish into the basket.

Breaking the surface, the fish laughed all over the cabin, and the flowers were firmly grasped by the river.

It's a little red to fish alone in the cold river. The old fisherman has a long pole pointing at the fish that hit the night breeze.

Late in the morning, I was sleepy. The fish swam in shallow water to play with hibiscus and caught a weeping willow by the lake.

An old man, Kun Weng, was drunk and let the wind shout. He didn't ask the world of mortals, but smiled at the fish.

Sunset hangs on a pole, fish play in the evening breeze, catch three or two flowers and idle away.

A man was fishing with a fisherman in the cold river, and hung down his pole to prevent the fish from playing in the evening breeze.

The head of the pole is a little red, and the fish swim shallow and catch the river alone, laughing at the passing clouds.

Playing duckweed in shallow water, the three-pole dream is not awake, and Mo Yu Tao Weng catches the stars alone.

An old man, sitting alone fishing in the autumn wind, hung up his pole and didn't realize the sunset was late. The fish swam eastward from the long water.

Reading late at night, learning nothing to watch fish, shot a neighbor.

Fish are happy, and long poles don't think the sun will be tilted. He sat alone by the Qingxi River, catching fresh fish scales with wine and tea.

An old dragon on the Han River fished alone, and a fisherman with one hat fished alone, hanging a pole and not asking the fish to play in the evening breeze.

Pulsatilla in the cold river is bright in the moonlight, and there is no fish in the morning.

Empty self-pity, let the wind blow, who sits alone in Mo Wen?

Where there is no shortage of fish, three sticks are uncomfortable, and Xiao Mo Shan Weng is holding a book alone.

Wonderful work of heaven and earth, Wan Li Gankun churned and surged, and bamboo with great strength led the way.

Water fishing, rivers and seas ups and downs for several years, drunk and dreamy.

There are many ups and downs in the rivers and seas, and the dream in the morning of the third day is not true. Who's the host when you're drunk? I'm a guest in the pot.

As you have decided, heaven and earth are boundless, and the three poles are still awake. I don't know who Jiang Hai will go to.

Lofty-minded, crazy about the mighty Gankun, thousands of miles across the river, fishing alone, laughing at the vicissitudes of life.

Without a new hook, Ren Woxing's rivers and seas are ups and downs, and the fish are dry and the clouds are light.

I don't want to rest at a loss. I'm a prisoner when I'm drunk.

Wanli, I am king, and I am still awake between heaven and earth, so what's wrong with being at a loss?

The thunderbolt was earth-shattering, and the dry Kun moved ghosts and gods, and the rivers and seas crossed and the bamboo swept away the floating dust.

Catch a cold fish with one pole, take Wan Li Road to Jianghaizhou, and look around Gankun Heaven and Earth.

Send a micro-body, the dream is not true, I want to invite Gankun Tiandi as a guest.

Three-point tripod feet dry Kun tripod, Qishan heaven and earth surprised, a hundred feet pole head Jiang Hai a duckweed.

A bottle of wine, a thousand dreams, a sea of thunder, a new spring and autumn.

Jianghai shakes fishing away from the world of mortals, and the sun and the moon are new in the pot of Gankun sleeve.

Wan Li is a misty cloud, Ren Woxing is dry, and rivers and seas can cross to fish and laugh for a lifetime.

Jianghai is magnificent, the shoulder pole is not late, and the sleeves are dry and bright.

Let me float, catch a bird and get drunk. I am a hero.

A long whistle shook Kun, and I was honored between heaven and earth, and the rivers and seas floated and sank.

The night is still early, restless, hanging a bright moon in front of the window, looking at the horizon with two lines of tears.

Where is my home, the moon and the breeze * * * taste tea, and the night is quiet and a wisp of drunken haze is deeper.

A bright moon shines on thousands of people, and the horizon of Wan Li is here in China, which makes people intoxicated. Tonight, I can't sleep for the western Western jackdaw.

I don't remember when I got drunk. The breeze has been with me, and I can't find my way home at the end of the world.

The sun shadow is oblique, and Wangjing Flower can't sleep in the middle of the night. The moon is full of dreams, everywhere.

Watching snuff in the middle of the night, I came to my house in a daze and drunk. The moonlight shines through the ages, and acacia is infinite in the horizon.

The moon is bright and the breeze is at home, and there is nowhere to find a confidant. A cup of acacia with turbid wine.

Cape * * * ChanJuan, the moon breeze is deeper, people don't sleep, raise a glass to invite intoxicating poems.

Acacia is drunk, and the rain knocks on the window at night. When to take care of me, it is difficult to send.

Looking forward to your return, you can watch the sunset, the moon and the breeze with a lamp. You know what I mean. Where can you find Fang Fei at the end of the world?

The moon and the breeze are dim. Where is your hometown? It's still early to miss the night with a glass of turbid wine.

Where there is a faint breeze on the horizon, the night is deeper, drunk and sad.

What's wrong with getting drunk? Leaning against the fence and homesick, the bright moon is close at hand.

People who don't sleep can't sleep, raise a glass and invite friends to get drunk together. Where is the romantic corner?

No sleep, no reward, no sleep, no tears.

Looking for a bosom friend, according to my heart, the night is quieter and the shadows are drunk.

Find a friend, the breeze * * * At this time, the night is still deeper and people can't sleep. A glass of muddy wine makes a poem.

Sleepless wandering, drunk Yi Deng alone mourning, where the bright moon to find Penglai.

The breeze and the bright moon know each other, and at this time, the horizon is * * *, and it is a delusion to stay at the window and not wake up.

My heart is like duckweed chasing water, when will the wind, flowers and snow stop, and my hair will turn white with the years.

Warm the house, the wine is too short for three rounds, the plum blossoms are just right, and a cup of drink is the spring.

Plum blossoms are proud in the snow, and green ants in the cup are drunk. There is wine to drink tonight, and tomorrow's stove can't be idle.

A tragedy adds sorrow to love, frost and snow are feelings, and the stove is tempered into life, and it is endless.

Boil Sanjiang, pour wine, the ice disappears, and spring comes again. Push the cup and change the bowl, you are young and strong.

Blow the snow all over the world, give a toast to Sang Ma, drink three rounds of wine and make new tea.

-Zheng Huixian