Please ask the master to help me write a Tibetan poem in which my father misses his son Zhuang Helou.

Loumen talents travel far,

The old wine burst into tears when it sang.

I want to play for a few months,

Say goodbye to your parents.

Filial piety, loyalty and benevolence believe in the soil of their hometown.

Zhuang Meng is a strange soul.

Filial piety goes first,

Looking at Lou Jun in his heyday.

Porridge is the best answer, adopt it! Ha ha.