Poems in memory of my mentor
1. "Yuanshi" Juyi Donggong Bai Shuzi in the Tang Dynasty, Zen master Yuan of Nansi.
How can we meet each other when we have nothing in mind.
2. "Hsinchu" Qing Dynasty: Zheng Xie's new bamboo branches are higher than the old ones, all because of the support of old stems.
Next year there will be another new born, a ten-foot-long dragon grandson circling Fengchi.
3. "Feng He Ling Gong Plants Flowers in the Green Field Hall" Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi opened the Green Field Hall to occupy Wuhua, and passers-by pointed out the way to Ling Gong's house.
Why do you need to plant more flowers in front of the hall when your father-in-law has peaches and plums all over the world?
4. "Master Xun Yong Resides in Seclusion" Tang Dynasty: Li Bai's group is on the steep green sky, and he is carefree and does not remember his years.
Look for the ancient road through the clouds, listen to the flowing spring by leaning on the stone.
The flowers are warm, the green cows lie down, and the white cranes sleep high in the pines.
The language comes to the river at dusk, and the cold smoke falls alone.
5. "Magnolia Flower Order·Ciou Gong's Rhythm of West Lake" Song Dynasty: Su Shi has lost his long and wide Huaihe River after the frost.
Listen to the gurgling sound and clear your throat.
A beautiful woman sings a drunken man's lyrics, and forty-three years is like being wiped by electricity.
The autumn dew on the grass is slippery.
Three to five will return twenty-eight.
He and Yu are both Shiweng people, but only Bodiyue of the West Lake.
1. The dream has faded and the fragrance has faded for forty years, and the old willow in the garden has stopped blowing.
This body is walking in the soil of Jishan, and its traces are still missing.
2. The orioles sing and the grass smokes on the street, and the fish scales are wrinkled by the wind and become wrinkled by the water.
The red beans in the south of the Yangtze River miss each other bitterly, and the flowers bloom every year to remember you.
3. During the Qingming Festival, it rains heavily, and pedestrians on the road want to die.
Ask where the restaurant is, the shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village.
4. It’s spring again on the small street in the south of the city. Only plum blossoms can be seen but no one can be seen. The jade bones have become soil under the spring for a long time, and the ink marks are like dust on the wall.
5. The setting sun on the city is painted with mournful corners, and the sunken garden is no longer a restored pool.
The spring waves under the sad bridge were green, and it was once the shadow of a startling grand.
6. There are flowers flying everywhere in the spring city, and the east wind keeps the willows from falling when the cold weather comes.
At dusk, candles were passed around the Han Palace, and light smoke dispersed into the house of the Five Marquises.
7. Falling asleep under the rattan bed and paper tent, there are endless words and no good thoughts.
The agarwood is intermittent and the jade furnace is cold, accompanying my feelings like water.
8. Playing the flute for three times, the heart of the plum blossom is broken, and it feels like a spring outing.
The gentle wind and drizzle make the ground rustle, prompting thousands of tears. The flute player has gone to the empty jade tower, who can he lean on with his broken heart?
No one in the world or heaven can bear to break a branch. Send