Cherish the scorpion turtle, the output is slightly less; Annie, the explosion is high enough. A generation is arrogant, and what widows do can only be fun. The past is over, count the romantic figures and make patches.
Spring outing of Yellow Crane Tower in Qinyuan
Glazed tiles, gold hooks on the corners, and a breeze. When reading Hanshui, the fairy returns to quiet, the tortoise and snake turn around, and the crane goes to the empty building. When the bronze sparrow terrace was dark, Zhang Hua was short. I came here to help you abandon the Chu Palace. A leaf is far away, the smoke waves are straight, and the eyes are endless.
How many poets have been angered by this magical work that has fallen into the sky. Pincuisheng is a swan song, deeply nostalgic, elegant and elegant, admired by poets and immortals, and not endowed with mediocre talents. Draw a Qionghua and carve a Yushu. Who was in a drunken dream? The clouds piled up late, the sun set and the sky turned red.
Qinyuan spring rain
Southland scenery, thousands of miles water bath, Wan Li water bath. Looking at the river bank, the vegetation is lush; Up and down the mountains and rivers, the sky is blue. The sun, the moon and the stars are hidden, and the mountains are diving, trying to compete with the moon. Waiting for the rain, the sarong landscape is particularly enchanting.
There are many beautiful scenery here, and countless poets lament their beauty. Cherish the purple layman and lose martial arts; Qu Yuan traveled on land, but he was inferior in fencing. A generation of poets, old and young, only know how to dance and write calligraphy. These characters are gone, a few heroes who can make contributions, look at today's people.
Pear Poems in Qinyuan Spring Rain
South wind and rain, thousands of miles of lightning, Wan Li ring. Looking inside and outside the Yangtze River, the sun is shining; The river goes up and down, but I am surging. The cloud holds the silver snake, the wind vibrates the golden drum, and the gods will be angry for nine days. Look at the red, orange, yellow and green on a sunny day, and the color training is enchanting.
The sky is so vast that countless writers stand late at night. Sighing Li Xian Du Sheng, Tianzong is smart; When the white devils go to prison, eight fights can get high. Wang Changling, a gifted scholar, rode out of the traffic like a flood. Come back and see the decline of poetry and why it is now.