The Yellow River has thousands of miles of sand, and the waves and winds are blowing from the end of the world.
Now we go straight up the Milky Way to the home of the Morning Glory and the Weaver Girl.
Far up the cold mountain, the stone path is sloping, and there are people living deep in the white clouds.
I park my car and sit in the maple forest at night, the leaves are as red as the flowers in February due to frost.
It rains heavily during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road feel like dying.
Ask where the restaurant is, the shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village.
Li Bai was about to go on a boat when he suddenly heard singing on the shore.
The water in Peach Blossom Pond is a thousand feet deep, not as deep as Wang Lun’s love for me.
The old friend left the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and the fireworks went down to Yangzhou in March.
The shadow of the lone sail in the distance is gone in the blue sky, and only the Yangtze River can be seen flowing in the sky.
The Tianmen interrupts the opening of the Chu River, and the clear water flows eastwards to this point.
The green mountains on both sides of the strait face each other, and the lone sail is coming from the sun.
Thousands of miles of yellow clouds and white sun, and the north wind blows wild geese and snow.
Don’t worry, there will be no friends in the future. No one in the world will know you.