Looking for the Appreciation of Yangjiang Poems on the Tip of the Tongue

That night, I saw off guests on Xunyang River, and maple leaves and rushes rustled in autumn-Bai Juyi's pipa trip.

Stop and sit in the maple forest until late at night, and the frost leaves turn red in February-Mutu's mountain road.

Hanging sails in the Ming dynasty, maple leaves falling behind me-nostalgia of Li Bai's "Sleeping under Niuzhu Mountain".

There are thousands of maple leaves, lush foliage, shaded rivers and bridges, and the sails are late —— In Jiangling, I am anxious to send my son back to peace.

I painted the Qinghe River, and I love the sadness of the maple leaves in the evening pavilion-I love the autumn fragrance in Tang Yin.