The introduction of the poem with numbers is as follows:
After going two or three miles, there are four or five houses in Yancun, six or seven pavilions, and eighty or ninety flowers. After a farewell, the two places Xiangxuan, only said it was March or April, but who knew it was five or six years.
The lyre has no heart to play, the eight-line script cannot be passed down, the nine-link chain is broken in the middle, and the gaze of the ten-mile long pavilion is about to penetrate. Hundreds of thoughts, thousands of thoughts, all helpless to complain.
One big Qiao and two small Qiao, three inches of golden lotus and four inches of waist. Apply five, six or seven points of powder, and the makeup will look eighty or ninety.
After parting ways, the two places are separated. Everyone said it was March or April, but who knew it was five or six years ago.
If you have no intention of playing the lyre, you cannot pass down the eight-line script. The nine-link chain is broken in the middle, and the ten-mile long pavilion is about to be penetrated! Thousands of words can't be finished, and I can't stand it until I'm bored.
Chongjiu climbs high to see the lonely geese. The moon is full in August and the Mid-Autumn Festival is not round. In July and a half, I burn incense and hold candles to ask the sky. In the dog days of June, everyone shakes fans and I feel chilled.
Pomegranates are like fire in May, but they are watered by bursts of cold rain. In April, when the loquats are not yet yellow, I look at the mirror and feel confused.
In a hurry, the peach blossoms in March turn with the water; in February, the kite strings are broken. I wish that in the next life, you will be a girl and I will be a boy. One piece after another, two pieces, three pieces, four or five pieces.
Six pieces, seven pieces, eighty-nine pieces flew into the reed flowers and disappeared. A foot of red roses shades the blue stream, and a thousand feet of willow silk stretches to the west.
It is difficult to learn from the two-nest swallow, and the half-pillow always hates the five-night chicken. For nine days, my body and mind were filled with dreams. Thousands of clouds and water gathered on all sides.
70% to 80% out of 10 are virtual phenomena, winning three springs and two tears. Poems containing numbers: After going two or three miles, there are four or five houses in Yancun, six or seven pavilions, and eighty or ninety flowers.