-the east wind is blowing again after a thousand years, and the ancient country is proud of its new generation. Even if you are modest, don't let Gao Jie hide the moth.
-I write Lanzhu in my own way, and 3, pieces of waste paper are all over Xiaolu. Understand the nature of today's ancient teachers, and the sea, the moon and the mountains enter the painting.
-Last night, Changfeng had a dream, and the moonlight was frosty. Formerly known as Wang Ziyou, he lived in seclusion and seclusion.
-waking up without sleep and flipping through books, it is difficult to sell wine in the middle of the night. Who shakes the shadows and sweeps the leaves, only two or three good bamboos are planted.
-Xiao Xuan burned incense to clear his mind, and rolled up the old words under the lamp. The thin shadows shake the wind and sweep the stars, which is the time when the moon is on the autumn tip.
-I am ambitious in my arms, and I write that green bamboo is higher than mountains. Who is a real gentleman, but holding this branch as a fishing rod.
-stroke the plain cone with a wave of your hand to paddle the sand, and the water will nourish the ink and dye the haze. After ten years, the wall is like a bamboo, and the wine is slightly smoked to write wild flowers.
-when the wind comes, the instrument is not cold, where can the long river reach this hometown? In order to get rid of the gloomy spring rain, the winding water recalls the flow.
-Xinhuan draws his sword and is proud of the Eight Wastes. He Zeng and Wu Qunfang are stubborn. Mengshan clouds are far away, drinking moonlight heartily.
-a hundred turns around the mountain road, and the bamboo forest half covers the old bridge. The clear spring flew down from the top of the tortoise and went straight into the tide of the East China Sea.
-Leng Yue's cold wind breaks the chaos, and the copper branches are iron and childlike. Don't envy the gentlemen in the greenhouse, be a real person independently.
-the bamboo forest is half covered with strange rocks, and the old trees belong to the crow wild family. Flowers fall in a shallow stream, but the dust is not stained, and the rogue stares at the sunset. (Wang Xinjian)