Seven or eight stars in the sky, two or three points of rain in front of the mountain - Xin Qiji's "Moon over the Xijiang River"
On July 7th, in the Palace of Eternal Life, in the middle of the night when no one is whispering.
I would like to be a winged bird in the sky, and a twig on the ground. -Bai Juyi's "Song of Everlasting Sorrow"
Seventy years old.
At night when the lotus root flowers are wet with rain,
When the cinnamon branches are blown by the wind on the hills.
How to eliminate it, you have to pour wine and recite poems.
Don’t leave the snow alone beside the bamboo.
Don’t miss the moon by the willow.
If you have too much time, you will become crazy.
No one cares about the business of growing flowers,
Only God knows the taste of flowers.
In the Laughing Mountain, the clouds rise early and the birds return late.
-Xin Qiji's "The Highest Building"