Three Qingping Diao Ci Poems by Li Bai
The clouds are like clothes, the flowers are like faces, the spring breeze is blowing on the threshold, and the dew is thick.
If we hadn't seen him at the top of the jade mountain, he would have met at Yaotai under the moon.
A branch of red dew is fragrant, and the clouds and rain in Wushan are in vain.
May I ask who is similar to the Han Palace? Poor Feiyan relies on her new makeup.
The two famous flowers in the country love each other so well that the king looks on with a smile.
Explain the infinite hatred of the spring breeze, Agarwood Pavilion leans against the railing in the north.
The clouds are like clothes, the flowers are like faces, the spring breeze is blowing the threshold, and the dew is thick.
This poem written to Concubine Yang has made me pursue it all my life, but I, a complete idiot, have forgotten that no matter how brilliant and brilliant the love between Yang Yuhuan and Li Longji was, it ultimately came to nothing, and my love was just a dream, a Qingping tune, and after one song, it has long since disappeared.