"White Head Song" by Zhuo Wenjun
It is as white as snow on the mountain. It is as bright as the moon among the clouds.
I heard that you have two opinions, so I came here to decide.
Today is a drinking party, at the head of the ditch in the Ming Dynasty.
Wang Yuyu The ditch stops and the ditch water flows from east to west.
It is so sad and so sad that there is no need to cry when you get married.
I wish to have the person of my heart and we will never be apart until we grow old together.
Why do the bamboo poles curl up, and why do the fish move around?
Men value loyalty, so why use money and knives?
Another "Poetry of a Resentful Man"
After a farewell, the two places are separated.
Although it is March and April, who knows it will be five or six years.
The lyre has no heart to play, the eight-line script cannot be passed down,
The nine-link chain is broken from it, and the gaze of the ten-mile long pavilion is about to penetrate.
Thousands of thoughts, thousands of thoughts, all helpless to complain.
Thousands of words are endless, and I am bored and just leaning on the railing.
Chongjiu climbs high to see the lonely geese. The moon is full in August and mid-autumn, but not round.
In July and a half, I hold a candle and burn incense and ask the sky. In the dog days of June, I shake my fan and feel chilled.
Pomegranates are like water in May, but they are watered by bursts of cold rain.
In April, the loquats are not yet yellow, and I want to look in the mirror and feel confused.
Suddenly, the peach blossoms in March drifted with the water, and the kite string broke in February.
Hey, Lang, Lang, I hope that in the next life, you will be a girl and I will be a boy.
There is also "Farewell Book"
Spring flowers compete with each other, the five colors are exquisite, the harp is still in the palace, and the new sound replaces the old one! There are mandarin ducks in the Jin River, and water in the Han Palace. These things are new, and people who lament the world are so greedy that they don't realize it! The red string is broken, the bright mirror is missing, the morning dew is shining, the fragrance is resting, the old head is groaning, the pain is parting, try your best to eat more and don't miss the concubine, the golden water is soup, and we will say goodbye to you!
They are all works by Zhuo Wenjun. But to digress, I think it’s better to write something myself. Maybe I’m not as talented as Wenjun and can’t write any good works, but I can explain my true thoughts, and there’s no need to write these seven or five words. For reference only.