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Anonymous users2024-02-13The thousand-year-old jasmine, after withering, only leaves this elegant.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of people with hearts do not declare that there are tears left in the inkstone.
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Anonymous users2024-02-12It should be: jasmine, withered, before germinating.
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Anonymous users2024-02-11Not a thousand years, it's the year before last.
Jasmine the year before.
After withering, only this elegance is left."
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Anonymous users2024-02-10Three hundred poems are occasionally read by passers-by.
Who hath brought the frost on the ground to my bedside?
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Jasmine the year before.
After withering, only this elegance is left."
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
Ahem, to sum up, it should be: the jasmine of the previous year, after withering, only left this elegant, hazy moon and you up. Hope.
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Anonymous users2024-02-09"Millennial Jasmine"? The landlord refers to the sentence in "Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing Dynasties". It's hard to say how to sing it. It's hard to learn and sing, it's just the reason why there are too many ingredients in the palace tune. Pay attention to listen to the singing a few times, maybe you will have some insights.
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Anonymous users2024-02-08Post-processing, other similar to electroacoustics, ** sound, etc., you can do it yourself under au!
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Anonymous users2024-02-07This is processed in the studio with audio technology.
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Anonymous users2024-02-06Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties - rear chord.
Three hundred songs are occasionally read by passers-by.
Who hath brought the frost on the ground to my bedside?
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
"Millennial Jasmine"?
After withering, only this elegance is left."
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
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Anonymous users2024-02-05Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
There are hidden poems here, oh hehe, listen quietly, and slowly understand.
Thanks for supporting the boss! Grip the claw.
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Anonymous users2024-02-04It's reverberating in your ears, just because of the biting characteristics of the back strings, so you may sound like a rushing stream echoing in your ears. I hope that if you are satisfied with this answer.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Lyrics: Back chord.
Three hundred poems are read by occasional passers-by, who persuaded the frost on the ground to return to my bed) The cold window read hard and lost his face.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume. Those who take care of it do not declare.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Jasmine sings :) Jasmine in the book.
After withering, only this elegance is left."
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume. Those who take care of it do not declare.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
-
Anonymous users2024-02-03Singing: Rear chord.
Three hundred songs are occasionally read by passers-by.
Who hath brought the frost on the ground to my bedside?
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
"Millennial Jasmine"?
After withering, only this elegance is left."
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
-
Anonymous users2024-02-02ti: Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties].
ar: rear chord].
al: The East is undefeated].
by:baiyishg]
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties - rear chord.
Three hundred songs are occasionally read by passers-by.
Who hath brought the frost on the ground to my bedside?
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Begonia leaves are on their minds.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Produced by Chen Xiang. Jasmine in the book.
After withering, only this elegance is left."
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is in the loud (I, in this life, don't want to miss it again).
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume of unannounced hearts.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
-
Anonymous users2024-02-01Song: "Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing Dynasties".
Affiliation**: Undefeated in the East.
Singer: Hou Xian.
Lyrics: Rear chord.
Composer: Postchord.
Lyrics: (300 songs occasionally read by passers-by, who persuaded the frost on the ground to return to my bed) The cold window read hard and lost his face.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume. Those who take care of it do not declare.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
The twenty-four bridges are finally shallow and bright.
The poem that hides his head can't bear to spit goodbye.
Shake off the ash on the pillow.
The tail note still reverberates in my ears.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Reading Tibetan poems: Tang Ye is very important.
The send-off poem is useless.
Far away from the old people.
Tomorrow night rain does not understand.
The light flowers are gone.
It's been a few days of dreaming.
Don't hide your makeup with tears.
Last year, the spring breeze was cut.
The article is lonely and borrows the paper to continue.
The remnant dream revisits the past, and it can't go back to the past.
A song of farewell. Silk and bamboo have been wasted for many years.
Dust four or five cents.
The pen is attached to me to fill in "Xijiang Moon".
The heart of the piano lingers and you sigh "Spring Goes".
Wake up to the beauty of the poem.
The rhyme is tireless, even if it is far away.
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Jasmine singing: The jasmine in the book, after withering, only leaves this elegant and hazy moon to turn up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song and Yuan have said goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
I, in this life, don't want to miss it again)
The hazy moon turns up with you.
The night of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties.
Hide from who drip a few books of wounds.
We sing softly.
I will sing seven words, and you will count six strings.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties must finally say goodbye.
Looking back, the lights are gone.
Only loneliness is loud.
Whose face has been lost by reading hard in the cold window.
Lanting has been picked up in front of you.
A blank volume. Those who take care of it do not declare.
The inkstone is left with tears and thoughts.
Xia, Shang, Zhou, Qin, Han.
Wei, Jin, Southern and Northern Sui. >>>More
The Criminal Department is the agency in charge of the national criminal punishment decree and the examination of criminal names, and the final trial and review of major cases with the Inspectorate and the Dali Temple are in charge of the final trial and review. The specific duties of the Criminal Department are: to examine and approve various laws, to review criminal cases sent to the Ministry in various localities, to hear death sentences and cases "pending in prison" in conjunction with Jiuqing, and to directly try cases above the level of conviction in the Gyeonggi area. >>>More
Three hundred songs are occasionally read by passers-by.
Who hath brought the frost on the ground to my bedside? >>>More
1. Tao Zhu Gong: A person in the late Spring and Autumn Period, that is, Fan Li, a great sage who helped King Goujian of Yue to destroy Wu in World War I, can be called the originator of abandoning politics and business in history and creating a model of personal wealth records. "Historical Records" contains "three golds in 19 years, and huge amounts of wealth", of course, it was selected and recommended as the first of the "Top Ten Richest People in China". >>>More
Such as architecture, street aspects, etc.