Clouds turn to rain, snow turns to wind, and nights turn to clear skies. Come to Hongtun, stay with birds and birds. Three-foot sword, six-bow, north of Lingjiang River. The Summer Palace on the ground and the Guanghan Palace in the sky. The two sides of the strait are green with smoke, and the garden is full of spring rain and apricot flowers. The wind and frost on the temple, the guests who left early on the journey; A misty rain, a person was late by the stream.
Along the way, we are different from each other, the old man to Huang Tong. River wind is to sea fog, shepherd is to fisherman. Xiang Yan is poor, Ruan Tu is poor, and northern Hebei faces Liaodong. The pool is full of water and the wind is blowing outside the door. Emperor Liang gave lectures in Tongtai Hall, and Emperor Han bought wine in Weiyang Palace. Worried by dust, lazy to caress the seven strings; Frost is full of temples, shame to see bronze.
Poverty is to wealth, congestion to communication, and barbarism to children. The temples are green to the eyebrows and the teeth are red to the lips. The sky is high and the clouds are light, and the sword bends against the bow. Half a brook is green, and thousands of trees are red. Wild crossing swallows wear willow rain, fragrant pond fish play with the wind. Women have slender eyebrows and a crescent moon under their foreheads; Men are strong and full of pride.