Think about the lyrics of "research poetry into snow"

When you take the old leaves and cook them, put time into the string spectrum and study the color of snow

The heart has no place to say, but also holds a cup of pouring and feeling

Last night, Han Hong did not live, only to explore the branches

I've read the dust and ink books and recited the former poems again and again. I'm not as old as I am

The only reason to trace back, the only record of worldly sophistication lost

This chant is not too complicated, only lingers in the old time

The snow in the small building is in the beginning, and the silver catkins dance with the wind

There are three plum trees in the poem

The soul on the paper seems to be calling, where to read the past

Wandering and recalling

There is no difference in the stories of CHEN Si Man Ying

What is love in the world

Empty hate this from Chu, afraid of the world reluctant to have a home

I don't know my family

●

When the snow comes late, the evening will be cut away with the west wind

Drunk and tired of the world

Is and is not needle through the bone to cure every heart thin also have no

Seeking for benevolence and skills

Old friends used to write the same Fu, but now they ponder in two places

Acacia taste bitter fate, three words and hesitation

Snow branches and plum blossom clusters can count people's feelings and sophistication

Who knows me when we meet again

You can know the world, so I

—END—