Poems about nan
The sound of the valley should sound like a bell and drum, and the wave shadow should sound like a pine.
Qian Qian heather, ten thousand privet trees.
there is no winter and spring in Dannan, and the leaves of Ke Lian are thick.
in the deep leaves of heather, there are two or three dusk sounds.
pines and cypresses can't wait, but pines and cypresses can't move.
Why not peck if there is millet in Shetian, and why not inhabit if there is a branch of heather.
the water is muddy with mica, and the wind sweeps the heather
the color of the Phoebe bournei is dark, and the riverside is covered with green.
leaning in front of Jiangnan Tree Cottage, it has been passed down from generation to generation for 2 years.
I don't know if it rains at night, but the heather is turbulent.
it's a vast expanse of smoke, dark and brown.
nan is dry and majestic, and no one in the township party remembers it.
the Chu river flows to the Chu temple, and the nanmu grows on the back of the red cliff.
Take a closer look at the heather, the leaves are vertical and the charm is lost to Iraq.