The red dust of the past, the marriage is staggered, and the transverse flute outside the city renders the night. This life is yesterday, but the memory is mottled. This rice paper is dotted with ink, how to hook the color of the jade people? Ask the wine speechlessly, the breeze provokes the flowers to fly down, and drink alone. Don't ask how sad it is, my heart is broken, how can I tell it? - Liu Xiaoyan

【Ask the Buddha】

Ask the Buddha: The world and the earthly world, the hurry Liao Shaohua, the green lantern ancient scroll, why am I?

Ask the Buddha: There is a boundary in the world, the heart is like a void, and the sand boundary is measured around, what is included?

Ask the Buddha: Flowers bloom and defeat the court, the five aggregates are empty, the courtyard flowers and leaves, what is the pure place?

Ask the Buddha: Disturbing fame, honor and disgrace, there is a hidden meaning in the heart, and it is difficult to give up a lot, how can I get rid of it?

Ask the Buddha: If you are not frightened, you will not be angry, and you will take refuge in meditation, can you be a Buddha?

Ask the Buddha: Everything in the world is impermanent, life and death are mutating, and there is no evil in one life, what about it?

Ask the Buddha: Zen is impermanent, there is nothing in the mind, and when you participate in Zen day and night, what is the place to understand?

Ask the Buddha: ** Not close to the six purities, because of the love of the world, if the world is the same, how to bear the fruit?

———【Experience】

The willow color on Mo is dark, the firewood is lightly opened, and the tea is still warm.

The old frost clouds and sideburns, the makeup table is full of dust, and the age is not proportionate.

The brocade sleeps coldly, embroidered mandarin duck pillows, and mocks fate.

Outside the ferry port in the south of the city, Fang Fei opened and lost, mottled with the old people.

【The Deceased】

The pipa gently plucks the wine warm,

Tsing Yi whisked a verb song.

Who is in tears?

Gewen has no intention of getting into the play.

Q: What do you remember?

(Text)

There is a girl next door, in the prime of her life,

Posture to avoid the moon, walking lotus.

There is a man next door, and the writing is full of flowers,

White-clothed folding fan, dignified and chic.

Say this for two or three months,

Who is the twenty-ninth spring and summer.

The willows on the shore are withered,

Ren Jiangban moon star,

But I can't wait for my old face to return.

She put the lute in her hand and treated him to him,

He was blue, white-haired, and hoarse.

This drama of life,

Who is the winner?

I bowed my head and walked into history,

Time was silent and pulled down the curtain.

【Life Storybook】

The snow falls like a feather, the silver rivers and mountains,

He stood in the court.

Dynasties have changed over the years,

But the memory is as white as ever.

That night,

The moonlight is like frost, and the living beings are killed.

The emperor's face was finally changed,

The long street is full of sores.

He did not accept the battle, and let the emperor burn the promise,

Finally withered away from the original dream.

now

Vast rivers and mountains, thousands of miles of snow.

But without you,

Even if it's picturesque,

It's just a bustling cloud.

【Imperial Capital Smoke Cloud】

The snow came too late,

You showed up too late,

to make each other regret.

I understand how far away it is,

I also know how sad I miss it,

That's why I let go of tomorrow.

Don't complain,

I'll bear the mistakes,

Don't embarrass yourself.

After the storm has passed,

and the sky is blue,

There will be a rainbow,

Racked on the horizon.

(Readme)

Painting the bridge Xiaoli,

The smoke and waves go east,

Spring water is as jade as jade every year.

hairpin hall green silk,

pear blossom with rain,

The deceased remembers you every day.

Don't ask about the past,

No later stage,

This move is unrepentant.

Owe me happiness,

How to make up?

Outside the window, the moonlight fell to the ground.

You kiss lightly,

Like snowflakes falling on the lips.

Let the years go by,

I was still stuck in the early spring of that year.

You are bewitching in red,

The red belt is flying.

I pick up the pen red dust,

Engrave you in your heart.

But you smile,

Perfunctory my seriousness.

I haven't had time to run away,

Memories begin to burn.

You sharpen innocence into a knife,

Pierce all the good.

If this is a debt,

How much do I owe you in my past life?

Why in this life,

Steal my heartbeat,

Then turn around and walk away.

It's just that time goes too slowly,

It makes waiting panic.

You say love is spring,

After that, only one petal remains.

But I realized it too late,

The passing years have gradually withered.

If possible,

May the time go back to that time.

I don't care what I have in the afterlife,

I only hope that there are no regrets in this life

The meandering water bends and flows into the bridge;

Outside Xinghua Village, there is rain and smoke.

The breeze lingers, and the night listens to the remnants;

The snow clothes are like flowers, and life and death are at a loss.

I don't dare to add poems,

Despite the innocence of Jiangnan.

I just want to go into the alley,

Wait for a rain of smoke,

Wait for a paper umbrella,

Wait for a long-lost look.

The red dust is purple and mo, the rain falls on the other bank, and the white horse steps lightly on the pontoon bridge.

Mandarin ducks and green water, playing with smoke and waves, just a glimpse of the fall of marriage.

The wind pears the willow leaves, the time passes away, and the new branches are full of remnants.

If you are a passerby, why bother at that time, add light ink to the peach blossom fan.

【Peach Blossom Fan】

[Eight sad sentences]

1: The covenant is still there, it has come to an end, and when you turn around the world, there will be no end in time.

2: On the side of the bridge, pity each other, rub each other in the next life, strange eyebrows.

3: A song was in the past, two little guesses, the song ended with people scattered, and time did not wait.

4: Green and red pavilions, reeds and lotus piles of smoke;

5: Thousands of miles of clouds, red dust, willing to take a scoop, drunk me rest.

6: Hyacinths, love for the king, three degrees of pink, mandarin duck pillow.

7: The moon is in the evening, by the bridge under the willows, the transverse flute flies secretly, and the intestines of those who hear it are broken.

8: Grievances in the rivers and lakes are difficult to solve;

Jiaolong is in the dust, and his arrogance is on the side of the king.

Full of wisdom and open-mindedness, he went east to idle clouds and wild cranes.

【Oriental Shuo】

The dragon in the world, frolicking in the world, does not follow the stereotypes and accompanies the king's side.

Full of resourcefulness, learning rich and five cars, wanting to express his ambition and favor the crown and the fame.

The north defeated the slaves, expanded the territory and expanded the territory, and the merits were immeasurably deviated and witty.

Self-recommended to enter the court, keen to enter the office, concerned about the common people and secluded in the countryside.

The waning moon shines through the window dressing table, and the partridge cries outside the platform.

The passing years are like a dream, the Zheng is dumb, and the Lingdinghua is a phoenix.

【Autumn Thoughts】

The waning moon shines, the partridges cry, such a cold night, only I am alone on the platform.

The years are like dreams, and the memories are like yesterday, but things are not people, and the figures hang each other......

Xinjiang dust horseshoe disease, you fall on the battlefield, leave me alone to taste spring, autumn, winter and summer.

After all, you have become an injury that cannot be looked back, where should my thoughts go?

In the end, the screen is cold and cold, the human affection is like a veil, there is no trace of the years, and the white hair is beautiful.

The flowers and leaves on the other side cherish each other, and the thousand-year-old dream turns sad and helpless.

All the way, the gloomy eyes are full of tears, and the banks of the Lechuan River are blooming.

In the previous life, he held his hand for about three lifetimes, and in the next life, he was a stranger.

Staggered flowers bloom in marriage, for whom to add makeup and red clothes?

【Flower of the Other Side】

I don't know how important the years are, how many memories have finally become a dream?

Remember that time, when you met the lamplight, you wore an elegant plain clothes, standing in the breeze of pear blossoms, and the elegance was beyond the ordinary.

Life is long, like a white horse passing through the gap, and I don't realize that Shaohua has been lost.

In the past, the years of holding hands were passed, and now there are two sides of the world.

Leave me drunk to listen to the sheng flute, give poems lightly, let the old things fade, scatter the rain and smoke.

The end of the strangeness of the two phases, the catastrophe planted in fate still barren each other's complexity.

The moon is in the sky, and the lights are longing.

The blue boat is leisurely, and the smoke is heavy.

That year, the painting building was like a dream.

The green clothes and Luo fan, dancing and clearing.

Mandarin duck small print, green window and red light.

The flowers shine on the water, and the song is floating.

The stars are moving, and they are shocked.

How to continue the future when the ink is broken?

Put the wine in the wind, and the rain will break the spring sky.

Touched by red dust, people end up in dispersion.

[The pain of remembering, locked an empty city. The realm of unbelief is also the realm of the heart, and I don't know that I will be reborn after this calamity and nirvana. Everyone will be atoned for their sins, and no one will be spared. To myself.

A thought is born, and there is no resentment about the vicissitudes of life;

A thought is extinguished, and the words are thousands of years later.

Thinking is a catastrophe, gentle and unremitting.

He had waited too long, and the wind and snow soaked his brow.

Tonight the snow is full of mountains and rivers, and a white dress is coming in the distance,

Footsteps crushed the years.

Over the years, it is like a lifetime,

But the emaciated came so similarly.

The condensed air was relieved,

The lights at the head of the city were gradually extinguished.

He took her hand and looked at the vast rivers and mountains side by side,

Like fireworks in the heyday.

Turn around with life,

Write the last appearance of the history that will be passed down through the ages.

【To Mrs. Peach Blossom】

That night, the night was solemn, and he lifted the long front Pegasus to break the city.

When the wind struck, his heart trembled, this is where they are separated.

There is no whispering under the moon before the flower, and there is no choking on the willow embankment.

Some just say goodbye. And the thoughts are beyond the waiting of yin and yang, just for that uncrushed obsession.

The woman's eyebrows were like flames, and her flowery appearance was like a dream, and it gradually burned into scars in her memory, blooming like a nightmare.

Now Chang'an is prosperous and picturesque, but on the banks of the Luoshui River, his heart is as deep as a swamp.

He took out the jade flute, shallow and flowing, and let the catkins all over the city be like flowers, fluttering and flashy.

Holding the glory and power of the world, entangled in the concern of the corner of the eye. The red dust of the partition buried the moonlight of Loulan.

When the flowers are against the remnant sun, the floating stamen is down, and the words of this past are all paid to the dust in the end, and no one is left.

A pot of wind and snow, laughing and raising a glass. He opened his clenched hands and looked at her carved phoenix and jade hairpin, which had been worn down by the years. Then he bowed his head and groaned, and walked into the Qiong Tower. Outside the imperial palace, the snow fell one after another, and the battle was clear. He doesn't listen to the noise, and lets his thoughts spin to the beginning. On the day in the curtain, her flowery appearance of Qiluo's beaded clothes and fragrant sideburns bloomed on Loulan. Looking back, this thought amazed the years, and the blood stained the rivers and mountains. Now the wind is raging and ruffling his white hair, like the feeling of time passing by. Suddenly, an arrow struck, and he clearly heard the sound of the arrow, like mockery, as if regretful. His trembling hands looked at the phoenix hairpin falling, like a marriage, like a Yiren. He closed his eyes and fell. The snow is still falling like crazy, covering up the devastated rivers and mountains, and burying a period of the past.

The difference between a thought is a red face, and the beacon fire is pouring all over the world, and in the end, it is only exchanged for staying close to each other like the end of the world. He has been injured, and Qingfeng has been blunted. Her eyebrows are frozen, and her heart is locked. He was poor, pierced the curtain of memory, and listened to the red pavilion on the bank of the rainy river. Wanglan Zhou into the painting smoke and misty, Yiren boat head clothes fluttering. Obsessed with the note, affectionate weaving acacia. Unexpectedly, he was involved in honor, and so far he went to the dangerous building alone, and Luoyang looked at it. The red dust is three thousand east and the water is gone, and the yellow sorghum is intoxicating in the world. Several times sinking, a few souls, and the sword and iron hooves trample on the rivers and mountains. The temples have been spotted, the face has been disabled, and finally the blood is in the hands of the country, but the hearts of the people are far away.

Fishing fires are scattered, leaning on the side of the bridge, looking at the falling flowers dyed with the wind all over the river, sighing for the years of the water. You said that this song is sent to the king, do not ask for mercy, and the glitz and glamour of the world are difficult to break. Once the spring is gone, how many hearts are exchanged for tears?

On that day, you went up to Loulan alone, wore a Luo shirt, and danced to extinguish the smoke of the troubled times. And I'm over there, looking at the city and dyed with blood, and the king flag at the head of the building is changing. The rivers and mountains are picturesque, and finally a finger of quicksand, and the people of Iraq are like flowers, but the years are fluttering. Seeing each other, the white bones of the exchange are piled up like a mountain, and once the emperor becomes an emperor, he regains the old rivers and mountains. It's just that you have burned like smoke, leaving me to wait for a fruitless thought.

It was not late at night, and he was gone, ignoring her tears in the moonlight. Two years in a blink of an eye, on both sides of the world. Her heartbreak healed, and he reappeared, rippling her years like water. The tenderness is still there, and the throbbing gradually calms down. She said to give her a season, she wants to be warm and cold. His heart is like a mirror, but he is perfunctory. She said that the parting after the reunion was too heartbreaking, and it was better not to see it. He said he couldn't sleep at night and just wanted to see a good face. The love silk in two places messed up Meiyu Xintian. He and her decision is to test whether to be tired or want a piece of freedom. In the end, he stood in the rain, bowed his head and was silent, holding an umbrella and stepping into the rain and smoke.

You sit under the Bodhi tree with a smile and look at the vast night sky and row down lonely. How many times has I walked through the five aggregates, but the sorrow cannot survive the years. You say that love is inherent, and mundane things are impermanent and impermanent. If you are deeply involved, this life will be miserable. Why is it that my face has changed in life, but I can't let go of your old appearance? It's another year of colorful flowers, smoke and rain, and the bells of the wild temple are ringing in the distance, and the shepherd's flute is blowing melodiously. I hugged the pipa back, played the worries and worries, and threw away the years, and clung to the quicksand and missed the pampa leaves. If you forget the bowl of Meng Po soup in front of the stage and drink it, and then rub it with you when you come, will you turn a blind eye or tears will rain down?

Chun: You came from the riverside where the willows are like smoke, and the appearance of celadon like water ripples my mirror-like years. I lightly buttoned the paper fan and watched you walk into the purple and red Mo Shangyu Alley, until the flowers fell and the shoulders began to wake up. Xia: The light rain is added, the small lotus is turned, you hold a small boat into the depths of the hibiscus. Looking back, there are thousands of tenderness. The pond is full of clear water, reflecting the green lotus like a painting, and the lotus incense is condensed. I engrave my thoughts on your nostalgia. Autumn: Alone in the old alleys, looking at each other across the river. The other shore is now shattered, and there is only one season of frost left. Who are you cutting candles with at night, composing the years together? Leaving me to look at each other near the water, like across Yinchuan, there is nowhere to talk to my heart. Winter: The wind and snow are full of rivers and mountains, and the personnel are mottled. I am a stranger, full of affection, but self-pity. You are a red dust guest, amazing, and in an instant. The last one was ruthless snow, how much infatuation was frostbite?

The rain hits the plum blossom buckle firewood, lightly twist the floating stamen, and is slightly drunk. Personnel are not ruthless, the wind sends dusk, and the railing alone. How can you fall asleep when the night is dry and the wine is dry? I only tell my heart about the cup of mellow, burn it gently, and there is no gossip in the music book. The end of the world is goodbye, the spring sky is thin, and the new lotus is blooming. The bridgehead is full of strange passers-by, living up to a pool of clear water and blue sky. Gently collect the bamboo sails, drunk and lie on the head of the boat, and the eyes reflect the passing years. Now your natal chart, who accompanies your old face?

That year, I rode into the bluestone slab bridge in the light rain. When the umbrella is first opened, your eyes are like water, and you slowly step into the rain and smoke. The apricot blossoms are sparse and the years are fluttering, and the red dust is a dream in the snap of a finger. Therefore, it is difficult to find, leaving only picturesque rivers and mountains. The promise of a long stream of water fell in Ruosu's years, and his heart was as silent as an orchid. My red sleeves add fragrance, and I explain the first glimpse of it. But it is difficult to write new words in the middle of the ink, and he sighs at the moon. That's it, since you are already a stranger to the end of the world, why do you need to get drunk and drunk. It's just that the land you owe me is desolate, and I don't know when I will be able to pay it back?

You say that you will pour out your life, and your white head will not leave, and the fine water will flow for years, and you will be accompanied by clothes. You said that the cold window is ten years, and the group of books is exposition, if you add fame, you will live up to your reputation. But you have been going for eighteen years, and the spring moon boils autumn frost. Waiting for the willow bank of the embankment, Hongyu misses the sadness. Now the red medicine is full of ferries, the boat is in the rain and smoke, the green umbrella is opened two or three, and the eaves are connected to the hills. I walked alone, looking at the spring color full of curtains, and cut my old face. Sigh your promise, hollowing out my years.

"I've written a lot more about these first"