I lay sprawled in my lonely country, not feeling sad about my situation, but thinking about defending the frontier of the country.
Lying in the dead of night listening to the wind and rain, iron horse glacier dream.
Liu Kezhuang from Beilai.
Try to say that eastern things add white hair to people.
The garden is full of stone horses and the temple is full of weeping bronze camels.
Hu is difficult for a long time, but Huang Lao is easy to listen to.
Desolate old Beijing woman, makeup bun is still xuanhe.
Recall the classics of youth.
Infinite official willow, no willow painting Ge, no root walker.
Nanshan is still seeing each other off, only separated by high city people.
To Liu Kezhuang, the fifth of Jiang Zui's six songs.
In the spring of the battlefield, blood is still flowing, and the remnants of the bonfire are full of heads.
Grazing was forbidden in the Ming dynasty, and people felt sorry for themselves when they saw the mountain.
Xin kai qi Xuan Cheng Yuanzhen Chen Biao Ouyang xiu
Bamboo is growing, and the porch window becomes quiet.
The world is cold and the birds are silent.
The spring is misty and the mountains are still cold.
Take the heart of thousands of years alone and compete here.
Wang Anshi is in the suburbs.
Soft mulberry leaves are all green and thin, and reed-leaf silkworms become dense cocoons.
Chat with the villagers and ask the custom: how hard-working and hungry?