The flowers are shining and the moon is shadowing, the wine is beautiful and the plums are sour, the curling kettle is cold and rustling, why are the warm couches and quilts filled with tears? Rui Nao is fragrant, amber is deep, the wind is blowing, the snow is blowing, the beauty is haggard, the joy and love are not there, but is there still a whisper in the ear?
The rouge is thick, the ink marks are fragrant, the face is like jade, and the temples are like frost; the horses neigh, the wind shakes the shadows, the eyebrows are furrowed, the blood marks are light, and there is no sound in the hometown.
The musk-scented hibiscus quilt, the jade curtain and the blue tooth bed, the pitiful jade body lies across the night, the sun is warm and the pearls shed tears, and the golden toad gnaws at the lock. The fragrance is broken and the wine is full of evil feelings. The west wind urges the parasol trees to fall. The parasol trees have fallen, but autumn colors are still there, and loneliness is still there.
The bright moon is clear, the heavy rain is dark, the curtains are drooping and graceful, the tears are dyed lightly and evenly, revealing the traces of dawn, how long will it take to cherish them? Don't compare it to something novel. After being drunk, Emperor Ming relied on Taizhen.