Chai yuanbiao

Chai yuanbiao

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Chai yuanbiao, male, was born around 1270 A.D.

experience

The year of birth and death is unknown, and Du Zong of Song Dynasty lived around Xianchun. Try the official inspection. In Song Dynasty, Yu Cong, brother Wang and other four people lived in seclusion, and they were called "Chai's four hermits". Yuan Biao's work poems, with a collection of socks and thread, have been lost. It is now stored in the collection of Chai's four hidden works, Siku Zongmu.

works

Hit the soil song hit the soil song, hit the soil song, look up and see how I am. Moon mirror in the West Sea, sun pearl in the East China Sea. Let's hear my song. You do not see Danxi shepherd, service Ling meal loose into Jinhua. No Wuling fishermen, Yizhou green shore visit peach blossom. When an expert dies, he will be lucky or hungry. If the sky is not white in the East, it is not the sound of chickens and flies. The emperor collected gold, Zhang Mu, Xu Shi, and sent life and death in the mirror. Xiqu is like an arc. It's good to be a general in Fengcheng. The lack of fixation is not enough, and the sorrow is not enough. Autumn flowers lag behind spring flowers, what in the world is not withered and prosperous. Ten years of wandering to now, a poor ape into the forest. In my life, I feel comfortable and carefree, and my tongue is always sweet and silent. Whoa, whoa! Porcupine boots, green fur, talk and smile, that is the marquis. After the fish can cry in front of the fish, give it not grace, not fight. In the eyes of wealth, we must have a harmonious view. I will be old enough to walk and rest. XiuXiu, looking down at the eight foot body, is a drop in the ocean. Looking for Li Li in the past. Looking back, he Xiaoxiao, a hundred years is like a candle. But the song says: if you don't weave the grass, you will live in the white clouds, if you don't take off the coir, you will lie in the Yellow calf. He looks up at the sky and shouts at Wu Wu, and he holds the Yi Qi in his hand. Nai Geng wrote a song, saying: let's invite foreigners to gather together, and let's pull the garden together. The bamboo slips are carved in the tomb of the son, and the sheep are dressed in furs. The paper is carved in the tomb of the son. I dare to ask you if you were in the temple corridor, the abbot and his concubines were willing to do it. Singing golden thread (on the eve of the tea mausoleum in Xianchun and Guiyou, when wenwenshan raised punishment for Hunan). Just plum blossom, after the snow, lock the window cold quietly. It is in aoshanpeng island to advocate the noisy Tiandeng market. New year's day, golden rooster. In the light of Kuixing, how much do you know about the crystal and courtyard. Singing phoenix dance, flute curl.
The Taiping officials were laughing. Daoziwei and Kuixing get together and take photos. Borrow land to plant flowers in Heyang County, peach and plum are just right. Warm Qinru, Dongfeng pond. It's never night to see the auspicious smoke and auspicious mist around the tower. Business is full, Green Court grass. Water dragon chant (already Mao Mid Autumn Festival, home of Zhao Shijian, Zhangquan, Yushan, stay for the meeting of Yangui and Baju) Qiu Yunyuan had no intention, and he had to go back to his heart. Yangguan wine, Baqiao people far away, also must not go. □□□□，□□□□，□□□□。 There is the sound of mourning geese, mourning geese, quietly listening to people.
Looking back on the old hatred of pipa, I sigh about the west wind and the west wind. Jiangzuo hundred years, wind and clouds scattered, can not afford to re lift, how to return to the industry, Qiaoge answer each other, self compatible with. Why do we need to □, three five toad light, double ninth wind and rain. (Wuyin's autumn trip to Qiantang) the willows are flat and the rain is sparse. The sound of the wild geese calls to the flower village. In front of the pavilion, the fallen leaves and the westerly wind have no place to leave. It's time to go back. It's time to go back. The broken soul is crossing the West. The ship is full of empty load, and the dusk comes, and the tide roars and pushes away. the butterfly loves the flower (I've got a letter from my family on the chrysanthemum Festival, but I don't want to return) last year, I went to zhangtai. No one delivers wine, lonely yellow rain. It's the Double Ninth Festival and autumn is waning. The west wind hates who pays. I can't go back to my heart. But the dream of beauty, about my flower room. Suddenly I feel that I have no place to find. The sound of wild geese calls off xiaoxiangpu. Su mu (sitting alone among guests) at the beginning of the evening, the sun shines in the sky. The water is far away, the sail is far away. Who can stand alone in a hundred foot high building. Dropping Wutong, a tear of love. The horse hisses and the wind blows again. Intermittent cold anvil, and send to dusk. Everyone doesn't sleep when the moon shines. Worry about the sound of wild geese, more anxious about people's ears. Yangguan is the way to climb. After all, it's not like going home. The season is near the Mid Autumn Festival, it is more yellow rain. The wine is sickly and melancholy. And there's no one to share. It's like white clouds deep, deeper. cherish the parting (guest's heart) wait for the cold in the hall, the lamp is half off. To the lamp. This hate is hard to tell. I can ban the yellow flowers a few times. At first, it turns cold, but it's still cold. His words add more sorrow. I want to go home tonight. Whose moon will be broken by the sound of anvil. gaoyangtai (old tour of huaiqiantang) when Danbi comes back, the world is deserted and the earth is old, and the HUAFA is urging each other. See Qiantang, north peak more Cui Wei. Qionglin banquet hairpin place, twenty years, covered with moss. Qian, who lives for me.
Sad past rest heavy Province, and with emotion, Fujing Title cup. Warm and cold from the day, let him bloom. My heart is only the moon of the West Lake, still clinging to me. More affectionate, constantly faint, tide to tide.

Chinese PinYin : Chai Yuan Biao