(1) Ancient style poetry
The Yanshan Mountain is lingering,
It falls into the cold pool.
Red leaves in the frosty sky,
The wild geese sing at the pass.
Thinking of you and seeing the future,
Thin water and solitary sail.
The dew on the reeds is heavy, and the crape myrtle flowers are withered.
Rest all the yellow dogs,
Dou Yi and the lamp.
If I don’t see you for three nights,
I will shed tears through my shirt.
If we can see each other on the third night of the year,
The fragrance will flow through the shirt.
(2) Ancient style poetry
The night is fragrant and the geese are returning home,
The bamboo fence is late in autumn.
The calamus is broken and the lotus pond is broken,
The mountains are covered with wormwood.
The crickets are whining and the silver hook is on the plate,
It is difficult to play the light hook.
Recalling the spring boudoir on the bend of Emei,
Peach blossoms, pear and sandalwood.
The suona sounds and the beauty is drunk,
The red carpet is decorated with incense candles.
Looking at the bamboo gui with a single shadow,
The dossier is cold.
The moon comes to the door, and the bamboo slips are on firewood.
Xue Tao is full of notes.
(3) Ancient style poetry
Autumn flowers are singing,
Morning flowers are still blooming.
The black magpie leaves the fence,
The waterfall is hidden.
The smoke is curling up,
The distant mountains are towering.
Please send it to me as a guest,
The mist is thick.
I am a guest,
The morning light in my hometown.
The ruined temple in Quxi,
The parasol trees are perched there.
I miss my girlfriend in autumn,
What is a good time?