"Whistle All Over the Twilight and Little Wind"

There is little wind in the twilight, the village is green, and the summer is warm and warm.

Flying birds, looking at the countryside, counting many days of clear blue distance.

The late rice is green, verdant and rich, duckweed and reeds, and the river boat behind the house is shallow.

The melons are ripe and sweet, weeping and fruitful, separated from dense vines.

Mu Jianyan danced with light wings. See egrets hovering in the air.

There are also seasonal vegetables, outdoor smoke, and beautiful soup.

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Cherish the flow of youth. Songhai Cangyu has changed in a thousand ways.

The world is soft, and I look back for several years as a return.

Like the front edge of a dream, falling flowers and stamens, lingering thousands of Luo skirts.

If the night is starry and the fog is clear, the strings of the piano are flicked.

Remembering last night's ethereal poems. The makeup color is delicate and the jade snail is delicate. Step shake hairpin, plain selection.

Heart-to-heart is speechless, and time together is slow. Suddenly, a quick trip to the year, on the banks of the Hebi River.

The night is long, and I wish to be affectionate and the moon reflects the sky.

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