The wine near the flag pavilion is delicious and drunk after a long time. Singing and laughing with people, lazy makeup comb.
Outdoor spring is a horse. The red candle in front of the bed calls Lu at night, and meeting can still solve the feelings.
2, "Young Beauty Listening to the Rain" (Song) Jie Jiang
Listening to the rain song upstairs, the red candle is faint. In the prime of life, the boat is listening to the rain, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind.
Now listening to the rain monk Lu, there are stars on his temples. Sorrow and joy are always ruthless, and will last until dawn before the next step.
3. Bodhisattva Man Paints a Red Candle in the Rain (Song Dynasty)
The drizzle on the eaves in the painting is a red candle. Sparse stars and neglect cold jade.
Gambling like the blue sky. Jinbo is more about ships.
The day before the bottle. Look down at the flowers.
The sky is grey and the water is long. Lonely building.
4. Huanxisha (Song)
Golden songs and red candles are rare. Liangzhou dance is a bit awkward. When you are awake or lonely.
Draw a building with high clouds and weak warm air in the window. There are many fallen leaves on the green branches.
5. Huanxisha (Song) Zhao Yanduan
I greet you under the flower, under the shoulder and under the moon. Avoid whispering, and your face is rosy. The painting hall is covered with red candles.
Sick wine worries about spring sleep, and all day long the rain clears up. Use your head to think clearly.
2. The poem "Red Candle" (Wen Yiduo)
"Every night, the candle will dry the wick."
-Li Shangyin
Red candle!
Such a red candle!
poet
Spit out your heart and compare it,
But what about ordinary colors?
Red candle!
Who made the wax?-for your body.
Who lit the fire-lit the soul?
Why do you have to burn the wax to ashes?
And let it out?
Repeated mistakes;
Contradiction! Conflict! "
Red candle!
Nothing wrong, nothing wrong!
It should "light" your light-
This is the natural way.
Red candle!
Once made, it will burn!
Burn it! Burn it!
The dream of burning the world,
The blood of the boiling world-
Save their souls,
Smash their prison!
Red candle!
When your heart is burning,
It was the day when tears began.
Red candle!
The craftsman created you,
It was originally used for burning. "
Now it's burning,
Why are you crying?
Oh! I know!
It is the residual wind that invades your light,
When your fever is unstable,
I was so anxious that I cried!
Red candle!
Flow! How can it not flow?
Please put your cream,
Constantly flowing to the world,
Cultivate comfortable flowers,
Form a happy fruit!
Red candle!
You shed a tear and the ash was distracted.
Depression, tears for your fruit,
Create light for your career.
Red candle!
"Mo Wen harvests, but requires farming."
3. Silkworms will weave until they die in spring. A poem about candles says that when candles turn to dust, tears begin to dry.
As night fell, the palace was busy lighting candles, and smoke drifted to the house of the prince and the marquis.
Phoenix candle shines. There is no incense screen in that house.
The curtain leans against the tree, feeling infinite, and the candle is faint and fragrant.
Glancing at the silver wax, I hurried down the brothel.
Silver candle cold painting screen, light Luo small fan flapping fireflies
Although I blew out the candles, it didn't get dark, and although I put on my coat, it didn't get warm.
Meng Haoran and Zhang Jiang watched the thistle lanterns which were different from the local customs, and replaced the New Year with the old ones. Jimen looked at the wahoo and suspected that it was burned by Candle dragon. Wei lived alone in the mound house, the mountains and moons were as bright as candles, and the wind and frost moved bamboo. Birds are frightened in the middle of the night, and people leave windows alone. Zhang Ji drinks Shili's house. The door is open in spring and at night, and the lights and candles are shining. I was drunk, drank a toast and stayed up all night. It's always messy to suck candles and step on fairy mud in the spring cave of ancient mines. I don't know what Taoist priest it is, with a supernatural scroll in his hand. Twelve poems written by Quan Deyu in Yutai style. After the empty boudoir put out the candle, Luobo slept alone. Tears are hurting my heart, but I don't know.
Li Yu's words began to shine, and the dragon and candle would fight. (Under "Kong Tie")
Tian e's miscellaneous songs hurt the night alone, put out the candle and lie in the blue room. I'm afraid I'm sentimental about the moon. I'll take care of the bed.
* * * Miscellaneous songs 6. There is no figure in the boudoir candle, and Luo Ping has a dream soul. I'm tired of music recently, and I watch the military gate all day.
Zhang's miscellaneous songs and words, the Palace of Flowers and Beauty, the Floating Luan Hall, and the anvil sound across the Phoenix Building. The water sill sings, and the red candle welcomes autumn first.
Xue's ballads, ancient songs, beautiful women near red candles, candles sitting and cutting new brocade. You know you haven't slept at night by playing with a knife often.
His beauty has become haggard since he became a king (Jia's poem). Thinking of you is like a candle, frying your heart and containing your tears.
A great monarch (Jia Shi) is a monarch. I miss you like a candle at night, and I weep a thousand times.
Yang Shidao sings and dances (poems by Yang Shidao). Twenty-eight is like snow, and three spring flowers are early. Branches turn into candles, a kind of oblique wind.
Jiang's two ancient songs, Beauty Pass red candle sitting alone to cut new brocade. Play with scissors often, and you will know when it is cold at night.
Meng Haoran and Zhang Jiang watched the thistle lanterns which were different from the local customs, and replaced the New Year with the old ones. Jimen looked at the wahoo and suspected that it was burned by Candle dragon.
Wei lived alone in the mound house, the mountains and moons were as bright as candles, and the wind and frost moved bamboo. Birds are frightened in the middle of the night, and people leave windows alone.
Zhang Ji drinks Shili's house. The door is open in spring and at night, and the lights and candles are shining. I was drunk, drank a toast and stayed up all night.
It's always messy to suck candles and step on fairy mud in the spring cave of ancient mines. I don't know what Taoist priest it is, with a supernatural scroll in his hand.
Twelve poems written by Quan Deyu in Yutai style. After the empty boudoir put out the candle, Luobo slept alone. Tears are hurting my heart, but I don't know.
And the three halls of Wei Liu have new names: Twenty-one Chants, the moon pool is cold, the bright moon is in the sky, and the crescent moon is beside the pool. If you don't envy Qing Yan, you will become a candle.
4. A poem about a temple, "Send a spiritual master"
Year: Tang Author: Liu Changqing
Blue chikurinji, near the distant bell in the middle of the night.
The sunset with a hat gradually returned to Qingshan.
Jiangnan spring
Year: Tang Author: Du Mu
Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills.
More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.
Above Ji Xiang Temple
Year: Tang Author: Wang Wei
I don't know where Ji Xiang Temple is, so I climbed several miles into the clouds and peaks.
Ancient trees are towering, but there are no pedestrian paths, and there are bells in the mountains in the temple.
Spring listens to swallow dangerous stones, and the sun is tempered by pines.
In the evening, come to the empty pool and meditate quietly to suppress the dragon.
Huanxisha swims in autumn waters in Qingquan Temple.
Year: Song Author: Su Shi
Play Qingquan Temple in Qishui, next to the temple is Lanxi, and the stream flows west.
The buds just growing at the foot of the mountain are soaked in the stream, and the sand road between the pine trees is washed away by the rain. In the evening, the rain began to trickle down, and cuckoo calls came from the pine forest.
Who says life can't go back to adolescence? The water in front of the door can also flow west! Don't bemoan the passage of old age!
5. Five poems about accumulating red candles 1 When a person goes to a tryst at night, the birds don't call the wind and the houses on both sides of the street stand silently. It's my own anklet that makes me shy. When I stood on the balcony, listening to his footsteps, the leaves didn't shake, and the river was still like a sword on the knee of the sleeping sentry. It's my own heart pounding _ _ I don't know what to do. When my body trembled, my eyelids drooped, the night deepened, the wind blew out the lights, and the clouds dragged over the veils on the stars. It's the baby on my chest that shines. I don't know how to hide it. If you are busy filling water bottles, come on, come to my lake. The lake will surround your feet and whisper its secrets. There are shadows of the coming rain clouds on the beach. Like the thick hair on your eyebrows, I am deeply familiar with the rhythm of your footsteps, knocking in my heart. Come on, come to my lake, if you have to fill the water bottle. If you want to sit around, let your water bottle float on the water. Come on, come to my lake, the grass is green and there are countless wild flowers. Your thoughts will fly out of your black eyes, just like birds fly out of their nests. Your veil will fade. Blue water will not pass you, nor will it drown you. Water waves will tiptoe to kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Come on, if you want to jump into the water, come to my lake. If you want to go crazy and die, come to my lake. Cold and bottomless. It is as dark as dreamless sleep. In its depths, night is day and singing is silent. Come on, if you want to die, come to my lake. I just want to stand behind the trees in the forest. Tiredness still lingers in the eyes of dawn, crying in the air. The lazy breath of wet grass hangs in the mist on the ground. Under the banyan tree, you milk with your soft hands like cream. I stood still. I don't say a word. It's the hidden birds singing in the dense leaves. Mango trees spread flowers on the village road, and bees will buzz around. The worshippers began to chant. You put the jar on your knee and milk it. I stood there with an empty bucket. I didn't come near you. The sky woke up with the gong in the temple. The dust in the street fluttered under the driven cow's hoof. I hugged the bubbling water bottle and the women came from the river. Your bracelet jingled and the milk foam overflowed the jar. The morning light faded and I didn't come near you. Bamboo branches rustled in the wind. The bipedal cuckoo with oblique shadow and outstretched arms is tired of singing. I'm walking on the side of the road, and I don't know why. The low shade covered the hut by the water. Someone is busy at work, and her cymbals are playing in a corner. I stood in front of the hut, I don't know why. The winding path passes through a mustard field and several layers of mango trees. It passes the village temple and the ferry. I don't know why. One day a few years ago, the March wind blew, spring whispered wearily, and mango flowers fell to the ground. The waves jumped over the copper bottle standing on the doorstep of the ferry. I think I don't know why on this day when the wind blows in March. The shadows deepened and the cattle returned to the fence. The deserted pasture was pale and the villagers waited by the river. I went back slowly, and I don't know why. I am like a musk deer. Crazy about my own perfume. The night is in mid-May, and the breeze is the breeze in the south. I lost my way, I wandered, I pursued what I couldn't get, and I got what I didn't pursue. The image of my own wishes emerged from my heart and danced. This flashing image flew by. I tried to hold on to it, but it dodged and flew away with me. I pursued what I couldn't get, and I got what I didn't pursue. This began the record of our hearts. It was a moonlit night in March. The air smells of impatiens; My flute was thrown on the ground, and your flowers were not woven well. The love between you and me is as simple as a song. Your orange veil charmed my eyes. The jasmine wreath you knitted for me made my heart tremble, as if I had been praised. This is a game of giving and staying, hiding and showing. Some smiles, some shyness, and some sweet and useless obstacles. The love between you and me is as simple as a song. There is no mystery beyond the present; Don't force the impossible; There is no shadow behind charm; There is no exploration in the dark. The love between you and me is as simple as a song. We didn't go out of all languages and enter eternal silence; We didn't raise our hands to the sky except hope. We give, we get, that's enough. We didn't grind happiness into powder to extract the wine of pain. The love between you and me is as simple as a song. He comes and goes every day. Go ahead and give him the flowers from my head, my friend. If he asks who is the giver, I ask you not to tell him my name, because he has come and gone. He sat on the ground under the tree and paved his seat with flowers and thick leaves, my friend. His eyes were melancholy, which brought melancholy to my heart. He didn't say what he thought; He just came and went. Why did this young vagrant come to my door at dawn? Every time I pass by him, my eyes will be attracted by his face. I don't know whether I should talk to him or keep silent. Why did he come to me specially? The cloudy night in July is dark; The sky in autumn is light blue, and the south wind makes spring restless. Every time he creates a new song with a new tune, my eyes are foggy when I put down my work. Why did he come to me specially? When she hurried past me, her skirt touched me. Suddenly, the warmth of spring blew from the nameless island of a heart. A moment's flirting swept through me and then disappeared, like a torn petal fluttering in the breeze. It falls on my heart, like a sigh of her body and a whisper of her heart. Don't hide the secret in your heart, my friend, tell me in private. 68860.68686868661You smile so gently and speak so gently that my heart will listen to you, not my ears. The night is deep, the court is quiet and the bird's nest is shrouded in sleep. I never hesitate.
6. Poet about candles: Li Shangyin Age: Tang Style: Seven Laws Category: Boudoir Love
It was a long time ago that I met her, but since we separated, the time has become longer, the east wind is blowing and a hundred flowers are blooming.
Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night.
In the morning, she saw her hair cloud changing in the mirror, but she bravely faced the cold of the moonlight with her evening song.
There are not many roads to Pengshan. Oh, Bluebird, listen! -Give me what she said! .
Modern poetry and red candles.
Ah!
Such a red candle!
poet
Spit out your heart and compare it,
But what about ordinary colors?
Ah!
Who made the wax?-for your body.
Who lit the fire-lit the soul?
Why do you have to burn the wax to ashes?
And let it out?
Repeated mistakes;
Contradiction! Conflict!
Ah!
Nothing wrong, nothing wrong!
It should "light" your light-
This is the natural way.
Red candle!
Once made, it will burn!
Burn it! Burn it!
The dream of burning the world,
The blood of the boiling world-
Save their souls,
Smash their prison!
Red candle!
you
Luminous period,
It was the day when tears began.
Red candle!
Made you,
It was originally used for burning.
Now it's burning,
Why are you crying?
Oh! I know!
It is the residual wind that invades your light,
When your fever is unstable,
I was so anxious that I cried!
Red candle!
Flow! How can it not flow?
Please put your cream,
Constantly flowing to the world,
Cultivate comfortable flowers,
Form a happy fruit!
Red candle!
Liu Ni
Gray is upset.
Depression, tears for your fruit,
Create light for your career.
Red candle!
Mo Wen harvests, but requires cultivation.
7. Poems about Candles Du Mu's Farewell
Affectionate but always ruthless,
I just want to smile before I die.
Candle has a heart, say goodbye,
Cry for others until dawn.
Li Yu's words began to shine, and the dragon and candle would fight. (Under "Kong Tie")
Tian e's miscellaneous songs hurt the night alone, put out the candle and lie in the blue room. I'm afraid I'm sentimental about the moon. I'll take care of the bed. ***
Miscellaneous songs, the sixth song, there is no figure in the boudoir candle, and Luo Ping has a dream soul. I'm tired of music recently, and I watch the military gate all day. Zhang
Miscellaneous songs, palace music, moonlight, colorful floating Luan hall, anvil sound across the phoenix building. The water sill sings, and the red candle welcomes autumn first.
Xue's ballads, ancient songs, beautiful women near red candles, candles sitting and cutting new brocade. You know you haven't slept at night by playing with a knife often. His beauty has become haggard since he became a king (Jia's poem). Thinking of you is like a candle, frying your heart and containing your tears. the Chen Dynasty
From the monarch (Jia Shi), from the monarch, the mirror is red. I miss you like a candle at night, and I weep a thousand times. Yangshi island
Dance (Yang Xidao's poems) is like snow, but also like early flowers in spring. Branches turn into candles, a kind of oblique wind. Jiang's two ancient songs, Beauty Pass red candle sitting alone to cut new brocade. Play with scissors often, and you will know when it is cold at night.