Reduced to a wanderer, high-spirited in the distance.
Years pass generously, and distance
The world is so big that never an inch really belongs to you.
The city is busy and has no right to enjoy it. Only the right is used.
Full moon is romantic, no matter how long you stay.
Green mountains and green waters, no matter how madly in love, are the mountains and rivers of others.
Do as the Romans do.
If you are not careful, you will show your true colors.
Try to count the classics and forget your ancestors.
I can't get into the family tree.
Only the end
In the eyes of people far away, you are a slave delivered to the door.
As soon as the hometown people met, they coldly asked the guests where they came from.
Far away! There is nothing but far away.
Yes! This is a thriving loneliness.
Yes! It is a long-term homesickness.
Yes! This is a struggle that you can't stop.
Come back! Mother may be in rags.
But the stream in front of the village has been carefully washed.
Let you go.
Come back! A girl with the same plums and purity
Wait for you to rest at sunset and work at sunrise.
southern slope
Poems written in the distance are unique.
Can only satisfy a moment of curiosity.
Poems written in my hometown are simple and sincere.
Often make people cry and wet their skirts.