a poem describing begonia.

1. In Tang and Han Dynasties, I saw Hua Wanshang holding her nose and reciting poetry, and I saw it alone on the wall in the afternoon. Blood-stained shuluoshan, fleshy red palace jinhai tangli. It's sad to want to praise nothing because you are crazy and sick. Look at it, but the east wind is returning, and the struggle for education is the most numerous.

2, Tang Han _ lazy to wake up and call the morning sleep, the spring heart is like a few. Pillow scars are dark and dark, and tears are pink and jade. Embroidered cigarettes in the cage rest, and the candle flame in Pingshan remains. Warm socks are too narrow, thin clothes are too wide. It rained at night last night, and now it's cold. Is the begonia flower there? Look on your side with the shutter.

3. Tang Xueneng Haitang should be everywhere without Shu Haitang, and it will bloom in one city at a time. Sunny weather makes the house low, and people scatter out of the wall after the rain.

4. People in Tang Xueneng Mianlou are playing with gauze by the stream, and there are begonia flowers downstairs. I hope that although I am pregnant with soil, I am passionate about buying a home. The front mountain should be like the outside, and this place is far away. There is no sorrow, and Liang Wang wants luxury.