Second, if life is just like the first sight, the autumn wind is sad, the painting fan is idle, but the heart is so old, but the heart is changeable.
Third, at first glance, the mottled waning moon and the rising wind in Ran Ran passed by.
Fourth, the number of points in this sleepless month, white sand and waterfront are colder.
Think of my lover from the hustle and bustle. Where can I make up and sing the breeze for you?
Sixth, if you win, you will lose, worry and resent. There is wine today, and I will be drunk tomorrow.
Seven, suddenly smell the rain outside the window, the flowers are not full, and the beauty has gone.
Eight, from the monarch, dark in the mirror. How can you be poor when you think that a gentleman is like running water?
Nine, hibiscus flowers are warm and intoxicating, beautiful as the world.
Ten, touch the sandalwood lips, purple boundary red. In the dead of night, rain sends dusk. Dressed in blue. Looking at Qiu Guang's old age, who will hide my half-life glass?
Eleven, green water is worry-free, because the wind wrinkles the face; Castle peak is not old, it is a snow-white head.
Twelve, those busy and unwilling to take a curtain call, there is a flower that will never bloom.
Thirteen, the long tassel whistling in the west wind, for a lifetime.
14. Fate came and went, but it was just a dream, and it woke up without a trace.
In fifteen or a hundred years, only a few words and strokes touched a page lightly.
Sixteen, open the HarmonyOS system, who is the lover? It's all about romance.
17. I don't regret laughing when I see the pomegranate in the water, and I am drunk with you now.
Eighteen, not ended, endless thoughts, empty red dust songs, if the heart is boundless, the heart has no shore, I would like to dust, follow you all my life, but can you?
Nineteen, the right side of happiness is barren.
Twenty, the process and the ending are all there, and then entangled, even I feel greedy.
Twenty-one, leaning alone at the night gate, overlooking the other shore, the residual dream is silent, like snow falling on my heart, and time is full of sadness. ...
Twenty-two, the cold light of the bloody meeting is also hot and chic, chilling and down-and-out, and all the way is bumpy and courageous.
Twenty-three, I always wanted to live in this troubled times, but I began to regret when the world was set, regretting why I couldn't die in troubled times.
Twenty-four, there used to be tall buildings that sang at night and had dancing sleeves on them.
Twenty-five, in a trance, time is stagnant, and the years are quiet. Just like ten years ago.
Twenty-six, prosperous times or killing people for a moment into the book, eliminating his loneliness, sadness and joy. Does anyone care?
Draw a life-and-death game and write an ending for our story.
Twenty-eight, qingluan bronze mirror failed to live up to the splendid Yu Zi's knock on the incense and stop the sound.
Twenty-nine, looking for bluestone to see the sunset light blowing me from Qin Feng.
Thirty, looking at the sun and the moon that day, there was silence; Green mountains and green waters are continuous from generation to generation.
Thirty-one, illusory, boundless, once met, I will never forget it. What's wrong with leaving a smile when you don't know your host?
Thirty-two, the burnt-out elegance, for whom to turn into the other shore flower?
Thirty-three, unless dreaming, the past is chasing, time flies, and people are haggard; Rouge fades, and your heart is like ashes. You face it day and night.