1.
Song Xin Qijiqing Pingle Village Residence
The thatched roof of the hut is low and small, and the stream is covered with green grass.
Drunk Wu local drunk, gentle voice, white-haired old man who is it?
The eldest son is weeding in the bean field on the east side of the stream, and the second son is busy knitting chicken cages.
My favorite is my youngest son, who is lying in the grass, peeling the lotus just picked.
2.
The humble room inscription by Yuxi, Liu Tang
The mountain is not high, and the fairy is famous. The water is not deep, and the dragon is the spirit. I am a humble room, but I am virtuous. The moss on the stage is green, and the curtain grass is green. There is no Ding Bai who laughs and has a university. You can tune the pipa and read Jin Dian. There is no confusion, and there is no complicated form. Zhuge Lu in Nanyang and Ting Yun Pavilion in West Shu. Kong Ziyun: What's wrong?
3.
Wei's "Pastoral in Spring"
Pigeons sing on the house in spring, and apricot flowers are white on the edge of the village. Hold an axe to cut far and wide, and hoe the spring pulse.
Yan knows his lair, so he looks at the new calendar. If you are in a hurry, you will not be royal, and if you are far away, you will travel far.
4.
Song Yang Wanli's Cold Food on the Tomb
Go straight to your husband! Can this bridge be out of danger?
The maple leaves in the distant mountains are pale outside, and the broken houses are beside the lonely wheat.
The spring breeze is coming again, and all the new buildings are gone.
Pear blossoms are cold food, and it is only when you enter the festival that you are worried.
5.
Tang Du Fu's Autumn Wind Breaking the Cottage
In August and autumn, the wind roared and rolled up my three hairs. Hair flew over the river and sprinkled on the periphery of the river. The highest one hangs a long forest tip, and the lower one floats to Shentang 'ao.
The children in Nancun bully me, and I can't stand being a thief in the opposite direction and openly carrying Mao into the bamboo forest. My lips are burnt, my mouth is dry, and I can't breathe. When I came back, I sighed at my staff.
In an instant, the wind will set the color of the clouds and ink, and the autumn will be bleak and dark. This cloth has been as cold as iron for many years, and Joule has been lying down and cracking. There is no dry place in the bedside table, and the feet are numb with rain. What's the point of getting wet all night?
There are tens of millions of luxury houses in Ande, which greatly protect the poor in the world, with a spring breeze and a mountain of wind and rain. Oh! When I suddenly see this house in front of me, I will freeze to death alone!