Bai Shu crow in the atrium, Coody Leng silent wet osmanthus. I don't know who Qiu Si will meet tonight.
I can finally send my messenger, the wild goose, back to Luoyang.
I am always outside. Every spring, I am alone in the country, sitting under a tree and drinking. The trees on the tree should also know my homesickness.
How can we turn this body into tens of millions, scattered to the heads of state's homes to see!
But I looked at my hometown, and the twilight was getting thicker, and the mist of sadness was filled on the river waves.
I looked up at the moon and looked down, feeling nostalgic.
Jiang Nanan spring breeze is green, when will the bright moon shine on me?
I advise you to have a glass of wine. There is no reason not to go out.
Where the sun sails, the horizon breaks people's intestines.
My friend's sail shadow faded away and disappeared at the end of the blue sky, only seeing the first line of the Yangtze River and heading for the distant horizon.
Know yourself in the sea, and heaven is still our neighbor.
I hope people will live for a long time and have a good scenery thousands of miles away.
I am a lonely stranger in a strange land, and I miss my family more often during the holidays.
How bright the moonlight is at home! Home is the best and final destination of a poet's soul. Let's listen to the poet's exposition of home.
What is home?
Home is the cold plum in Wang Wei's Miscellaneous Poems. "Before going to bed tomorrow, will the first cold flower bloom?" .
Home is the bright moon in Li Bai's "Thinking of a Quiet Night", "Looking up, I found it was moonlight, and then looking back, I suddenly thought of home".
Home is the nine ileum of Ma Zhiyuan's "Qiu Si" in which "when the sun sets, heartbroken people are at the end of the world".
Home is, but I look towards home, the twilight is getting deeper and deeper, and the river waves of the Yellow Crane Tower in Cui Hao are covered with a sad mist. A wisp of melancholy.
Home is Li Bai's "Smelling Flutes in Luoyang on a Spring Night", "The rest of the flutes fly in the dark, scattered in the spring breeze, and full of Los Angeles". That sultry nocturne.
Home is the nocturne of "Hanshan Temple outside Gusu City, the midnight bell goes to the passenger ship" in Zhang Ji's a night-mooring near maple bridge.
Home is Wang Anshi's "Dengguazhou", "Spring breeze is green in Jiang Nanan, when will the bright moon shine on me?"
Home is a note written by Li Shangyin to a friend in the north on a rainy night. * * * Cut the candle at the west window, it's time to say it's raining late.