a hundred mountains and no bird, a thousand paths without a footprint.
a little boat, a bamboo cloak, an old man fishing in the cold river-snow.
Wei Yingwu in the Tang Dynasty
lives alone in the secluded grass stream, and there are orioles singing in the trees.
The spring tide brings rain late and comes in a hurry, and no one crosses the river in the wild.
a night-mooring on the jiande river-Meng Haoran
while my little boat moves on its mooring of mist, and daylight wanes, old memories begin.
how wide the world was, how close the trees to heaven, and how clear in the water the nearness of the moon!.
Banquet-Wang Zhihuan
The spring water on the long dike is green and leisurely, and it flows into the Zhanghe River.
don't listen to the sound, you can't sail in the shallow place of Taoxi.
from a mooring on the tonglu to a friend in yangzhou-Meng Haoran
Listening to apes in Shanqing, and the river rushing through the night. The cross - strait wind Blow the branches and leaves rustling, the moonlight is reflected by the river, a river of a boat.
I, a stranger in this inland district, homesick for my Yangzhou friends. Recalling that I can not suppress tears in the two lines, looking at the west side of the west coast to send sad to Yangzhou.
Listen to the tune of flowing water-Wang Changling
Alone in the boat, the moon is on the maple grove, and the kite and the guest heart are divided.
the mountains are full of colors and heavy rains, and the strings are broken and the tears are deep.
bidding a friend farewell at jingmen ferry-Li Bai
sailing far off from Jingmen Ferry, soon you will be with people in the south. Where the mountains end and the plains begin, and the river winds through wilderness.
the moon is lifted like a mirror, sea-clouds gleam like palaces. And the water has brought you a touch of home, to draw your boat three hundred miles.
Early cold and pregnant-Meng Haoran
The geese fall in the Woods to the south, and the water is cold with a wind from the north. My home is wandering around the edge of the river, the sea of clouds is far away.
I go forward. I weep till my tears are spent, go back to the sky. The wind smoke blurred the ferry can be where, the vast river in the sunset ripples.
Send Du 14th to the south of the Yangtze River-Meng Haoran
Jingwu meets the water as a hometown, and it is slim for you to go to Chunjiang.
where will the sail be moored at sunset? As far as the horizon is concerned, it breaks people's intestines.
Yellow Crane Tower a farewell to meng haoran on his way to yangzhou-Li Bai
An old friend left the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and fireworks went down to Yangzhou in March.
The solitary sail shows the blue sky in the distance, and only the Yangtze River flows in the sky.