?The five watch drum horn meets the Three Gorges Galaxy, the cry meets Yige, and the crouching dragon meets the Prancing Horse. Du Fu's tears were like rain from the sky, rolling and wet his face full of vicissitudes. As a guest in a foreign land, I am worried about thousands of miles away, I am old and sick and rely on the boat alone, my gray temples are full of bitterness and hatred, and white tears flow from my heart.
The lyre meets a talented Wenjun, "Zi Xu Fu" meets a handsome Xiangru, the dirty wine by the fireside meets the hand of a beloved wife, sigh that a good husband is hard to find! However, after the farewell, the two places fell in love with each other, and a thin letter to divorce his wife floated from Chang'an, thousands of miles away: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten million." There are no billions. But Wenjun's tears never fell: "I heard that you have two ideas, so I will break up with each other." The sound of the thirteen strings broke, and the beloved wife of Zhumen sighed: Lang, Lang, I wish that in the next life you will come as a woman and I will be a man. . Qingniao went to Chang'an with his wife's blood and tears in his mouth, and finally called Yang Liu's heart back. In the late spring, a man and a woman, with two tears, went to the toad palace with the wind.
Once out of Qishan, I met Ma Di, Jieting met Chang'an, and empty city met Sima. All the passion and pride turned into the failure of that street pavilion. With that fingertip, he covered his face with both hands, and immediately beheaded Ma Di while waving tears. However, how can the tears of this hand be exchanged for Ma Di's life, how can it be exchanged for the lost street pavilion, how can it be exchanged for the victory of the war, how can it be exchanged for the revitalization of the Shu Han. His tears were too many, so many that he cried out his flesh and blood. However, he failed to achieve hegemony and passed away halfway. The cold clouds of the Shu Road protect Zhuge's tomb, and the autumn wind of the Wei River blows the never-drying tears.
The sharp blade meets the lonely tears of the veteran, and the banner meets the heart of the general. I can't bear to wave the knife down, and I can't bear to leave the tears. You have fought independently for hundreds of days and nights, dragging your disastrous body to work hard for the Qing Dynasty. Although your heart has been vicissitudes, your love for the country will never grow old. The old minister is alone at the Maguan with tears and blood, and vows to take Yuquan to protect Yanhuang. Wen Zhong's posthumous title will be stained with your tears and walk through the long river of history.
In the thousands of years of China, the tears of the vast rivers have gathered into a river. Its weight exceeds the Great Wall and the Terracotta Warriors. It has flowed from ancient times to today. Tomorrow, he will gather your tears and my tears, and flow to the future across the ups and downs of thousands of mountains and rivers.
I long for your tears, whether they are tears of wandering, tears of love, tears of heartache, or tears of loyal service to the country.
This endless river of tears is full of the vicissitudes of life. No matter how the sky and the earth change, how the stars and the moon move, he will always feel sad and sad, like a river of spring water, flowing slowly eastward. . . . . . (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com