Poems in memory of the old man's death

I miss my parents' tears all night and will take them back in the morning. Afraid of hurting my mother's feelings, I secretly flowed to the pillow.

The old spring will be brewed in Ji Minruo's grave. Who will the wine be sold to on a night without Li Bai?

Ten years of life and death are two boundless, disapproving and unforgettable. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about.

Care for each other without words, only tears thousands of lines are expected to break the heart, and the moon and night are short and loose.

When the bones are sad and foggy, the ice muscles have their own fairy wind. In the sea, I sent the probe into the fragrant bush and hung the green hair upside down.

The paper tent of the rattan bed is sleeping without end. The agarwood is intermittent and the jade furnace is cold, and my feelings are like water.

The tiller calls for love boats, and the spring grass is green and boundless. Try going to Wumen to see the county outline. There are some new cigarettes in Qingming.

In late spring, Chang 'an city is full of songs and dances, and countless flowers fall. The east wind of the Cold Food Festival blows on the willow trees in the royal garden. As night fell, the palace was busy lighting candles, and smoke drifted to the house of the prince and the marquis.

I'm sitting here alone, mourning for both of us. How many years is my seventy years old? . There is a better person than me, and God rejected a son. Pan Yue's mourning is still a waste of language.

Go through the gate again and you'll be fine. Like what? What is the difference? Wutong was half dead. After first frost, Bai Yuanyang lost her partner.