There are poems that ancient writers say make dreams fly. I need it badly. I need it on Sunday

Li Bai dreamed of climbing Tianmu Mountain.

Li He wrote it.

The old rabbit and the cold toad shouted at the sky.

The half-open wall of Yunlou is white at an angle.

Rolling the jade wheel and exposing it to moist strong light,

Luan Pei met a stranger in Gui Xiang.

Yellow dust, clear water and three mountains,

Into a thousand years.

Looking at nine cigarettes in the distance of qi zhou,

A large amount of seawater overflowed the cup.

And Li He's Arabian Nights is also about dreams.