and tasting.
Thinking of a banquet table, I shelter the bed under the roof.
I would like to be Luo Shuai, in the wind and frost of the upper guard.
Sprinkle and clean up the pillow seats, and Chong Fen gives Di Xiang.
Heavy households are tied with gold, and Chinese stirrups are high.
The clothes are removed from the towel and powder, and the pictures are listed and the pillows are displayed.
The plain girl is my teacher, and her manners are plentiful.
All the husbands hope to see, the emperor of the old church.
Le Moss night music, toothless and unforgettable!
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
like a mirage,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
looming, smoky,
like a paradise on earth,
Pieces of green in different shades,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The stream is microwaved,
crystal clear,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
Bend it now and then,
sometimes lift it up,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Watching the outside world carefully,
There is a bridge over the creek,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,