What ancient poems can't go back?

Self-creation:

Untitled

How many things are there to talk about?

Don't talk about ancient and modern trivia,

Be ashamed to say it.

Everything is over. ...

In the drunken dream of the spring rain,

Liu Fei with green eyes.

Cherish the residual red rain into the mud,

Hate spring fades away quietly,

In case you regret it.

Hua Peng spreads his wings and borrows the wind.

Look at those red and green mountains.