Ode to poppies
Article/Qingqing
The slender plant with a soft neck can be respected, and the blood stains can be seen from the original.
The butterflies go and sing this song, and the spring comes back to warm Hongmen several times.
The tears of mountains and rivers in dreams of colorful clouds, the soul of years in the shadow of clouds in the wind.
It’s not the poet who sighs with emotion, but the hero’s insight reaches dusk.
Nostalgia for the past under the Gaixia
As we walked down the Gaixia, we came to several villages, with light smoke and gentle rain and the grass was beginning to smell.
Whoever sings the songs of Chu has no plan, and a strong man cannot be said to be powerful.
The tears rolled down the beauty's face and she shed blood, and the love led the horse to comfort her in death.
Why should people be afraid when the green mountains are still there? The melancholy east wind is not the king.