After walking two or three miles, there were four or five houses in Yancun, with six or seven trees in front of their doors and eighty or ninety flowers.
On the 19th day of the lunar month, there are eight octants of the moon, seven talented people and six crazy people, there are four drums and three roosters singing at the fifth watch, and February sleeps with a pillow in my arms.
One big Qiao and two small Qiao, three inches of golden lotus and four inches of waist. Apply five, six or seven points of powder, and the makeup will look eighty or ninety.
One piece after another, two pieces, three pieces, four or five pieces. Six pieces, seven pieces, eighty-nine pieces flew into the reed flowers and disappeared.
11 Answers: Xiang Jue Xin Wu Ying - Jianghu Rookie Level 4 2008-11-15 22:35
Let me comment>>
Asker Comments on the answer: xie xie
Related content 6?1 Help me explain the number poetry: 6?1 Help me explain the number poetry four and five I don’t know the bitterness of nine 6?1 Poems and couplets containing numbers 6?1 Please collect some poems or couplets containing numbers, thank you! 6?1 Poems starting with numbers
More related questions>>
View questions with the same theme: Numbers Poetry
Other answers*** 1
The city gate assists the Three Qin Dynasties, and the wind and smoke look out to the Five Jin Dynasties.
The war rages on for three months, and a letter from home is worth ten thousand gold.
My homeland is three thousand miles away, and I have been in the palace for twenty years.
On the third day, he went to the kitchen, washed his hands and made soup.
The potential is divided into three tripods, and the industry is restored to five baht coins.
The knowledge of three independent dynasties, the knowledge of suicide.
Chu Sai and Sanxiang are connected, and Jingmen is connected to nine sects.
His success covers three parts of the country and is called the Eight Formations.
I have been dreaming of you for three nights, and I have seen you personally.
Three mountains and half fall outside the Qingshan Mountains, and two rivers separate Bailuzhou.
Three visits to the world have troubled the world, and two dynasties have helped the hearts of the old ministers.
Three divisions are based on Yu's planning, and a feather in the sky will last forever.
Three cities are garrisoned with white snow in the Xishan Mountains, and there are thousands of miles of bridges on the Qingjiang River in Nanpu.
Flying down three thousand feet, it is suspected that the Milky Way has fallen into the sky.
The white snow returns to the green tombs in the third spring, and the thousands of miles of Yellow River circles the Black Mountains.
In the setting moon of the river at night when the tide is falling, two stars and three stars are shining in Guazhou.
The Yunshan Mountains of the Three Jin Dynasties all face north, and the wind and rain of the Erling Mountains come from the east.
The fading temples of Sanxiang meet the autumn colors, and I return home from thousands of miles away to face the bright moon.
The cold light of thousands of miles creates snow, and the dawn on three sides stirs up dangerous signals.
The three or two sounds of the strings being plucked by the rotating shaft indicate feelings before the tune is formed.
Zhuo Wenjun: Sima Xiangru’s wife.
Representative number poem:
After a farewell, the two places are separated.
They say it was March or April, but who knew it was five or six years ago.
If you have no intention of playing the lyre, you cannot pass down the eight-line script.
The nine-link chain is broken in the middle, and the ten-mile long pavilion is about to be penetrated!
A hundred thoughts, a thousand thoughts. I have no choice but to blame the man.
There are thousands of words to talk about, and I am bored to the last ten columns.
Chongjiu climbs high to see the lonely geese. The moon is full in August and the Mid-Autumn Festival is not round.
In July and a half, I burn incense and hold candles to ask the sky.
In the dog days of June, everyone shakes fans and I feel chilled.
Pomegranates are like fire in May, but they are watered by bursts of cold rain.
In April, when the loquats are not yet yellow, I look at the mirror and feel confused.
In a hurry, the peach blossoms in March turn with the water;
In February, the kite string is broken,
I wish you would be my daughter in the next life, I am male.
I don’t know who cut out the thin leaves. The spring breeze in February is like scissors.
The water flows down three thousand feet, which is suspected to be the Milky Way falling from the sky.
The beauty of April in the world is gone, and the peach blossoms in the mountain temple are beginning to bloom.
The garden is full of spring scenery, and a branch of red apricot comes out of the wall.