The poems wishing for peace are as follows:
1. The evening beacon is not near. I wish you peace every day. The light from the wall is small, and the clouds are dim. According to Qin Tong's alarm, it was difficult to cross Longzi. When he heard about Penglai Hall, thousands of gates immediately came to see it.
2. The road to the east of my motherland is long, and my sleeves are full of tears. We will meet soon without pen and paper, so I can rely on you to send messages of peace.
3. The high party in the painting hall was overwintered. Lean on the railing. All of a sudden. Thousands of miles away from mountains, I often hate seeing Yi Di. Even now that we have met, we are still the same, separated by Guanshan Mountain. Beautiful people send messages asking for peace. Save yourself the trouble. Stop crying. Crying hurts the eyes, not like the old days. I found two pomegranate leaves, sent them to me, and placed them in the clouds.
4. Shidai sweeps the clear mountains of Nandu, and the thin clothes can withstand the cold and the east wind overnight. The begonia blossoms are fading, and you can watch them with the curtains rolled up upstairs. Today, the sun is shining brightly, and the south road is warm and carved. When I admire the old garden, I am happy that there is no wind and rain, and the spring birds announce peace.
5. The safe letter arrived just half a page long, with a few pairs of characters like "Mandarin Duck". Flowers bloom and you can travel far, jade alleviates spring events, and swallows fly in the thatched cottage in the east wind.
6. Drinking longevity wine is more than enough. Zhu Yan has a white mustache. Two hundred years old exactly multiplies and divides. After a marriage, there are still children left to worship, and Ping An often opens letters from his maternal family. Picture of the longevity star in the niannian hall.
7. After asking for the safety of bamboo several times, the wild goose script is full of words about lovesickness. There are half a tree at the root of the fence, a solitary boat in the depth of the village, and many leaning against the railings. There are grass and clouds in the distance, frozen rivers and snow, and luggage at this time. Looking back at countless miles, Bingzhou looked back, and also crossed the Sanggan River.
Laughing, I have traveled thousands of miles. In a hurry, it becomes a plan to return. Jiangkong is late in the year, and the habitat is still there, with Wu's head and Chu's tail. The sparse willows are in the cold weather, and the moon is floating on the broken branches, still haggard. When we meet again, we talk about missing each other, and our thoughts are also there in missing each other.