Year: Modern Author: Lao She
The height of wood is ten feet, but life lasts forever.
Chrysanthemum Ao Shuang Mei Aoxue, male proud princes with swords!
See Mei in Baoci Temple after the rain in the mountains.
Year: Modern Author: Ma Yifu
I came to Xun Mei with a wooden chair.
It has been raining for several days, and it hasn't decreased.
Buddha's bun is ancient and his clothes are new.
Lin Shen is my sea, and all trees are fragrant.
Spring Rain and Muslim in Daan
Year: Modern Author: Shen Zufen
Looking at dusk, the clouds are heavy, the incense burner is wet, and the smoke building is slightly embarrassing.
The silk is sad and the shadows are chaotic. The bead curtain is low, and the jade hook touches lightly.
The sound of the piano and bones is far from the soul, and I have no intention of listening to the world.
I can't forget the past. Jianjiang is in the south, and the crisp plum will be ripe.
Sighing pillows adds cold, painting eaves and dreaming, and seeking defeat alone.
When the red flow accelerates, ask the traveler where to park the hub. Tears are all over the place, and the branches are flourishing, and the social swallows are looking for mud and leaning on dangerous buildings, and for whom? But I miss the sentimental moon, but I can't meet it. It's the old days.
Cold sunseeker gave birth to a powerful country.
The wind swept the curtains and cooled the snuff.
Who cuts candles at night?
After the rain
Year: Meta Author: Wang Mian
After the rain, Qian Shan is clean, and kitchen smoke is everywhere.
The world is cold, how pure is the custom? It's always a thorn in one's side, but it's empty.
I'm wearing a black towel.