1. Hsinchu is taller than the old bamboo branches and is supported by veteran cadres. _ _ _ _ Hsinchu in Zheng Xie
I am leaning alone in the dense bamboo, playing the piano and humming a song. _ _ _ _ Wang Wei's Bamboo House
3. Spotted bamboo branches, spotted bamboo branches, tears send acacia. _ _ _ _ Liu Yuxi's "Xiaoxiang God Spotted Bamboo Branches"
4. Why is there no moon at night? Where is there no bamboo and cypress? It's just the lack of free people like us. _ _ _ _ Su Shi's Night Tour in Chengtian Temple/Chengtian Night Tour
5. Bamboo shadow poetry is thin, and plum blossoms are fragrant in dreams. _ _ _ _ Wang Tingjun's quatrains, bamboo shadows and thin poems
6. under the west window, the wind shakes the bamboo, and it is suspected that it is an old friend. _ _ _ _ Qin Guan's "Man Fang Ting, Clear Water, Surprised Autumn"
7. Cover Chai Fei and thank him for staying with Zhu Mei in my study. _ _ _ _ Shen Zijin's "Yu Lian Rain Window Xiaoyong"
8. See smoke in the mountains and sunset in the bamboo. _ _ _ _ Wu Jun's Miscellaneous Poems in the Mountains
9. Under the light of our single lamp, we float in the smoke through cold, wet and wet bamboo. _ _ _ _ SiKongShu "Farewell to Shen Han at Yunyang Inn"
10. After a long silence, the sound of bamboo is still like a crescent moon. _ _ _ _ Li Yu's "Yu Meiren, the wind returns to the yard."
1 1. You can hear the sound of bamboo folding when it snows heavily at night. _ _ _ _ Bai Juyi's Snow at Night
12. Cross the thousands of feet Wave and you will find yourself leaning on a bamboo pole. _ _ _ _ Li Qiao's Wind
13. The courtyard is as empty as water, and the algae and grass in the water are intertwined and covered with bamboo and cypress. _ _ _ _ Su Shi's Night Tour in Chengtian Temple/Chengtian Night Tour
14. Xiangjiang River is wide, and bitter bamboo bushes are deep in the west. _ _ _ _ Zheng Gu partridge
15. There are dense insects in the deep bamboo bushes, not the wind. _ _ _ _ Yang Wanli's Chasing the Cool in Summer Night
16. There are remnants in the well, and mulberry and bamboo rot. _ _ _ _ Tao Yuanming's Four Returns to the Garden
2. Which master of ancient poetry can help me create an inscription poem and an ink bamboo poem?
-after a thousand years, the east wind blows again, and the ancient countries are prosperous. Even if you are modest, don't let Gao Jie hide moths.
-I write Zhu Lan in my own way, and all three thousand pieces of waste paper are Lu Xiao. I understand the nature of being an ancient teacher, and the sea, the moon and the mountains are in the picture.
Last night, there was a long wind dream, and the moonlight flowed in the path of frost condensation. Formerly known as Wang Ziyou, he lived in seclusion.
-it is difficult to sell wine in the middle of the night when you wake up without sleep and turn over books. Who shakes the shadow and sweeps the leaves, only two or three good bamboos are planted.
-Xiao Xuan incense thought, rolled up the old words under the lamp. Thin shadows shake the wind and sweep the stars, just when the moon is at the end of autumn.
-I am eager to soar in my arms. I write that bamboo is higher than mountain. Who is a real gentleman, but holding this branch as a fishing rod?
-With a wave of his hand, he stroked the cone and scratched the sand, and the water moistened the ink and stained the haze. Ten years later, the walls are like bamboo, and the wine is slightly smoked to write wild flowers.
-where can the long river reach this township before the wind is cold? In order to get rid of the gloomy spring rain, the winding water recalls the flow.
-Xin Tuo drew his sword and was arrogant. He Zeng and Wu were stubborn. Mengshan is far away, drinking moonlight.
-the mountain road turns a hundred times, and the bamboo forest half covers the old bridge. The clear spring flew down from the turtle top and went straight into the tide of the East China Sea.
-Leng Yue cold wind breaks chaos, copper branches and iron bones are childlike. Don't envy the gentleman in the greenhouse, be a real person independently.
-the bamboo forest is half covered with strange stones, and the old tree belongs to the crow wild family. Flowers fall in a shallow stream, dust is not dyed, and rogues stare at the sunset. (Wang Xinjian)