Dielianhua

People in Fengwei Qingge Tower are in the moonlight, reciting poems and saying wonderful things, and the eternity will depend on Lanque. Don't shed red tears on the flower branches, and leave the emerald cup empty when you are drunk. The fragrant strings are broken and the snow on the Yaotai is filled with fragrance. It is red and haggard, and I walk back to the corridor in tattered clothes. When I want to go down the cold steps, I flutter my sleeves, and the dew condensation breaks up a pool of water. "Butterfly Loves Flowers" Song: part of me Words: Feng Yi The green butterfly falls from the hairpin into the temples, and the agarwood lingers around the beam. Drinking wine at dusk, chrysanthemum remaining in the breeze, cup of good tea I don't know that Loulan is deserted and boasts about the moonlit sky. There are traces of flying flowers deep in the corridor, and the solitary lamp still shines on the wall The phoenix tail plucks the strings and turns quickly to reflect the moon. The black eyebrows are tilted The branches are broken to offer sacrifices to the dancers and the songs are gone, and the pale ink moss makes the old people's hearts dizzy. Walking alone on Yangguan Road, carving stones, playing chess, holding the sword that was destroyed by frost, I still think about it. Mei Ruyu, under the butterfly, shares a fate of life and death with you. The wind and smoke can't stop singing, and the half game of chess in the world has been cloudy and clear, and the sky is blue. But now I can't send it to you People are dimly visible on the bead curtain and jade screen, and the clouds and mist are light on the carved windows. The golden wind wants to caress the immortal, who will he fight with while drunk? The maple fire burned up a pool of green, and no one can see the sound of today's people singing The red eaves of the high pavilion and the motes of dust can be remembered for a long time Don't talk about it. All sentient beings don't understand its meaning. Don't tell me that all the emotions at that time were all lies. The fragrance disappears and the leaves are trampled. The old friend sighs In front of Loulan when the moon sets, black frost and clear paper render, a frivolous madman lifts his sword in vain The plum blossoms under the butterfly are like blood, and I prophesy with you that life and death are determined by heaven. The road is farther up the mountain, the green water is clear and the sun is setting, and I read in detail the past grudges and grudges. Thirty-five percent of this knot cannot be resolved A man looks at the moon with a snap of his fingers, attracts green butterflies with red faces and white bones, and is unable to distinguish them. The blue robe floats in the wind and returns to the underworld. The candle is extinguished even more deeply. The soul is broken and the hatred is exhausted. Burning incense moves the seven strings and tunes the Chinese music to life. Look at each other and sing a song Farewell morning and evening. After farewell, we will remember the flowers and butterflies year after year. Dielianhua grows up all night long, sleepless and bright. The fierce and bright blood turns into flying smoke and rain for several days. The sky is buried, the moon is broken, the blue butterfly is in love Green butterflies flow, fireflies drunken flowers, agarwood melts into the gold cauldron The fragrant postures in the painting hall reflect the sparse shadows, and the pulse of water is cold and clear. A branch of red, yesterday is not today, a silver bottle of fragrant dew I once remembered that Xiang bamboo embroidered rose clothes and the path was filled with maple blossoms. Intention: