In the morning mirror with the remnant makeup of self-love, the hairpin is oozing with green silk.
In a moment, the sun hits the swallow's fat cheek, and a red rose is about to melt.
Mountain springs flow loosely around the steps, and thousands of trees and peach blossoms reflect the small building.
I was leisurely reading Taoism before I got up, and I was combing my hair under the crystal curtain.
The red roses are fresh and the apricot gauze is tender and dusty.
First of all, don't think that the material and the ground are weak, a little unkempt is the most pleasant.
Once upon a time, there was no water in the sea, but nothing except Wushan was like clouds.
I look back lazily at the flowers, half destined to practice Taoism and half destined to be a king.
There are usually hundreds of flowers blooming together, but pear blossoms and white flowers are the only ones.
Today there are two or three trees at the head of the river, pitifully spending their last spring with their leaves.
If you fall in love, you won't let go