An ancient poem written by myself.

Autumn rain overlooks Xijiang River.

The autumn wind is thick, and the tender willows dance clothes.

The mighty river is full of anger and homesickness.

The wind is cold and the fallen leaves are swept away.

Lying listening to the rain, drinking a glass of wine alone.

Laojie old scene

For the first time, Zhumen was opened in the deep lane, and the shadows of heavy buildings and jade fences lingered.

I always look at the river when I climb the mountain, and I still come back alone every year.