Xu Ling
In March and May of Guanshan, guests recalled Qinchuan.
Think of a woman upstairs, when the window should be awake.
The stars and stripes are reflected in Shule, and Qilian is on the cloud.
How many years have you been in the army since the war is so fierce?
Dingxifan
Wei Zhuang
Pick up all the golden light, shine, people are burning, slowly leak, when they are awake.
Leaning against the silver screen, I was speechless and worried about my brow. Smothering the rain with phoenix trees, dripping acacia.
Four poems by Cui Ti
Hanhe
The bright moon shines in the atrium, and the begonia flowers fall. Independent and leisurely, the wind is moving.
After the rain, the garden was covered with moss, and the Hongye Building in first frost. On the idle steps, the sun sets, and parrots are worried.
The wine is too strong to sleep, and the street drums smell unscrupulous. If it wants to be colder tomorrow, the east wind will rain through the window.
The curtain is cold in spring, and the embroidered window is sleepless. It rained all night in South Lake, so the lotus boat should be wet.