Hemp clothes are dusty for a long time,
The prefect of Poyang is a real person.
In early February,
Rot penetrates and drives away the soul.
Fried shredded pork with sweet and sour sauce
Fish float on the surface of the pool with tender grass,
Monks in Horae Water Temple opened their books.
The naked eye doesn't know the books in the sky,
Silk poetry is empty talk.
Kung Pao Chicken?
On the night when palaces crisscross,
The phoenix at the southern foot of Baoshan has a left wing.
What's wrong with the goose-skin crane?
Ding Xin and his view of spring mountain.
Sweet and Sour Spare Ribs
Frosting doesn't need to be sent on Monday.
Vinegar fried all the way to empty memories in my heart.
There are three expenses for arranging public holidays.
The bones are heavy and cold.
Cola Chicken Wings
Poor moon, reunion,
Yuefu should sing, and sing to Lotus.
The cock barks and the dog barks,
Wings sleep next to sleeves by frequency.
Wow! Seniors, we are all Tibetan poets!
Admire!