Poems describing life

we open your window over garden and field, to talk mulberry and hemp with our cups in our hands.

my path is full of petals -- I have swept it for no others, my thatch gate has been closed -- but opens now for you.

under the east fence of picking chrysanthemums, you can see Nanshan leisurely. Tao Yuanming's Drinking

In the morning, the reason for waste and filth was promoted, and Dai Yue returned home with a hoe. Tao Yuanming's Returning to the Garden

we open your window over garden and field, to talk mulberry and hemp with our cups in our hands. Meng Haoran's

Crossing the Old Man's Village

The eaves are long and clean without moss, and the flowers and trees are planted by hand. Wang Anshi's Mr. Yin's Wall in the Book Lake

talks and laughs with scholars, but there is no Bai Ding.

in Liu Yuxi's

Humble Room Inscription, I like children's scoundrels best, and I lie on my head and peel off the lotus. Xin Qiji's Qing Ping Le-Village Residence

has yellow hair and enjoys himself. Tao Yuanming's Peach Blossom Garden

is surrounded by barren hills, which does not cover the windy day; The short brown is knotted, and the ladybugs are empty. Tao Yuanming's Biography of Mr. Wuliu