A poem containing (helplessness)

A new song and a glass of wine. The weather was old last year. When did the sun set?

There is nothing to do, flowers bloom and fall, and it seems familiar that Yan returns. Wandering alone in the small garden, fragrant path.

Huanxisha sushi

Xu Miao can be a saint in wine. Liu Ling is on the floor and the sky is clear. Who is Pan Lang Bai Bi related to? It is better to go back to the old castle peak than to have new white hair. I hate it when no one borrows money to buy a mountain.

Qinyuanchun Ge Changgeng

For a while, they gathered like a ping, but suddenly they scattered like a cloud, helpless. To the ends of the earth, two lines of tears, romantic, a debauchery. I cried and stopped living in the dark and looked at the poor grass. Who hates me more? After the yellow, I feel sorry for the blue lantern. The wine is sad. Dreaming in a dream, you know it is impossible to recall the past. The higher you get, the thinner you get. He is worried that Pan's temples will be embarrassed in the past. When I went to Yanlaihong, I asked Liu, I learned from him. Where the soul disappears, it disappears and the mountains surround it.

Manjiang Chen Hongzhu

Dream of Beijing, suddenly smell, the legacy of court flowers. When I woke up, I was full of worries. Spring is not empty, the small board follows the jade. Want to go to the end of the world, reduced to Du Qiuniang, green. Who cares, barren chrysanthemum. Who can ask, Ping Zhu An. Over time, it became a shame. There is no choice but to climb mountains and mountains. But when people meet, they will ask when Mai Qingqing is ripe.