The clouds are flowing thousands of feet away and I can lie down drunk. Who is drinking alone under the moon?
Dance to figure out the shadows and sigh that all the years have been wasted in an instant
Who can laugh through the floating life and turn off the lights on the tower?
Looking back, I see the flowers blooming and the smoke rising.
The dew was like crying in the eyes, and the fireworks could not be cut. At that time, the orchid boat was leisurely going to the horizon in my eyes.
The dream soul is unrestrained, lingering in the past life, suddenly sitting alone under the curtain and enjoying the moonlight
When you shine on the flowers near the water, they fade easily. Who can understand this lingering hatred?
The clouds are flying and the mist is disappearing, the jade is broken into pieces, and I can't see any other way out, so I can't help but sigh.
Could it be that I was obsessed with butterflies in my dream, a night in the small building in the spring rain?
A chance encounter outside a flower and under a willow tree for the first time turned out to be the marriage of three lifetimes
Thousands of mountains hate to be parted, and Qingshang is gone.