Man Jiang Hong
Angry hair rushing to the crown, leaning on the fence and drizzling. Looking up, screaming in the sky, strong and fierce. Thirty fame, dust and earth, eight thousand miles of clouds and the moon. Don't be idle, grow old together and be unhappy.
Jingkang shame, still not snow; When will courtiers hate it? Driving a long car, breaking through the lack of Helan Mountain. Eat pork when you are hungry, and drink Hun blood when you are thirsty. Stay from the beginning, clean up the old mountains and rivers, and go to the sky.
Manjianghong (feeling of climbing the Yellow Crane Tower)
Looking at the Central Plains from a distance, there are many battlements. Think of that year, flowers covered willows and protected Fengtai Long Ting. Long live the Pearl in front of the mountain, and Penghu Temple is full of songs. Today, the fighters are full of suburbs and the dust is evil.
The soldiers are there, and the ointment is on the front line. People live in peace and fill in the gaps. Sighing that mountains and rivers are the same, thousands of villages are sparse. Baori asked for a sharp brigade to cross the Qinghe River with a whip. However, I came back and continued my trip to Hanyang, riding a yellow crane.