A person whose poems are slightly attached to Pingbo,
A reddish face,
Mild wind color,
It passed under the dim street lamp.
In the fragrance of Zhu Ziqing's hair,
I saw the dim shadow of yesterday-
Far, far away.
On the tram, the third-class cars in Zheng Zhenduo are very crowded.
There are only three people in the first-class carriage.
There is only a glass door in the middle.
Stupid human beings,
Why don't you break this door?
Is everyone sitting comfortably?
"Peasant Miscellaneous Poem" River III is busy in the field.
It's also a month,
It's also the moon.
Xiang Tao, a region full of Xiang Tao,
Yi drifted in and picked a beautiful grass flower for me.
I was vaguely affected.
now
But I regret it!