Yang Kuisheng

Yang Kuisheng

Yang Kuisheng was a poet in Qing Dynasty. Bo Kui, born in the golden chamber (now Wuxi), is the son of poet Yang fangcan. Students, officials to Jizhou Zhizhou.

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Yang Kuisheng was a poet in Qing Dynasty. Bo Kui, born in the golden chamber (now Wuxi), is the son of poet Yang fangcan. Students, officials to Jizhou Zhizhou. The poems were cultivated in Tang and Song Dynasties, and there were also some leisurely works. In terms of Ci, it is said that the CI poets in the Northern Song Dynasty were too rigid, while the CI poets in the Southern Song Dynasty were too weak to correct. He can also write Ci and prose. There is zhensongge poetry collection.

Yang Kuisheng's continuation of Ci Poetry

Leisurely and leisurely, the forest is long and bright. The wind is blowing and a leaf is flying alone. Look far away, know from the micro. A butterfly in a dream is like a flower in a garment. When the strings end, the clouds become thinner. A crane's wings are not fat. The building of autumn water is not to be painted. When I meet you, I sing. Star is not rare, beautiful night. From it, dream and smoke borrow. The fragrance of lotus is like a cloud. The oil is too empty, and the green is all. It's the only way to make it. It's cold in the wind. We must drink the clouds and smell the turbulence. If the dragon is not tamed, the rainbow has no reason. Abnormal person feather clothes, dew words thunder noise. Dongting hidden scale, Cangwu Yi ape. The vitality is changing, creating a wonderful spectacle. Sad and tight, to send the king to, cherish the king and think deeply. If you want to fall in the daytime, the pool is full of Qi and Yin. Hundred years of Cunhui, wandering short chant. Song Huang you language, only guest pan Qin. Listen to the seven strings, the rain of Xiaoxiang. The fallen flower leaves the branch, the sad person swallow heart. Xiaoxing, the son of Weiwan, is the best way to send incense. When I hear the sound of spring, all the birds are singing. The flowers are blooming, and the bees are ready to move. Beauty, short harp. It's clear and silent, and it's cold as irony. The rolling curtain is green and overcast, and the drizzle is like a dream. Leisurely and elegant, I know only the light cold before the rain stops. The tea smoke is green in the day, and the vine is a branch. Autumn old Mao house, eaves insect hanging silk. Ye dantai is green, wine sleeps and realizes poetry. Drink true embrace and, immortal and period. It's called chance, but it's hard to think about. high cold overlooking the moss stone, singing long pine. Chiba million blow, awe inspiring Shuo winter. Take shelter from the wind and take advantage of the emptiness. Jiao Jiao goes alone and hopes to be lost. Open Yuanguan at night, and listen to the bell. Light full eyebrows, meet with the fight. The sky is clear, the sky is clear, the duck hairpin is on the side. Egrets stand in the rain and spray on one shoulder. Pick white apple, Jiangnan Xiaoyan. Looking for the mirror to reflect the spring and writing lotus in every pond. The fishing boat is still in the past. If you don't want to say good words, you will get them naturally. Shu Jun, Zhuo Zhuo wild crane, beyond the group. The family of Tian is defeated by the hedge, and the orchid is more than the fragrance. Will seek far, wine is not alcohol. Yushan up, Shuhua kerchief. Come on, piccolo, roar into the clouds. Xuanxiaju, a man with a man's face is better than a man's. I'm lonely and thin, I'm sorry, I'm walking alone, I'm worried. If you understand the table, heaven and earth can seek it. Pavilion dangerous peak, reflection blue flow. The empty mountain is cold and the old plum is worried. The taste is not full, the bow is a couple. Pointing to the end of the wood, a monk on the first floor. Refining is like moxie sword and steelmaking. Gold and stone in the middle, bandits said forever. My heart and stomach, my spirit and light. The water is flowing, the stars are not scattered. From nine doubts, deep blue. If you give up everything and take it, you'll find a brocade bag. Linghuo tiansun shuttle, wrist without pause. Squilla throw rice and jump stars. Lotus dew into the grip, Ju Xiang to the bottle. Like a spring over a mountain, like a house built in a hilltop. The sound of emptiness gathers sound, and the shadow of flow is illusory. Four no one to speak, Buddha Pavilion a bell. Baidu Encyclopedia content is shared by netizens. If you find that your data content is inaccurate or incomplete, you are welcome to use your own data service (free) to participate in the correction. Go to > > now

Chinese PinYin : Yang Kui Sheng