Don't boast about the good color, just let the air be full of dried Kun.
moist
The west wind is rustling all over the courtyard, and cold butterflies are hard to come by.
If I were Di Qing next year, I would report to Taohua.
"Yong" Tang Luobin Wang
Cicadas sing in the west, and guests think of the south. I can't bear the shadow of my temples, but I can say goodbye to my bald head.
He flies heavily in the fog, and his pure voice is drowned in the wind. Who knows if he is still singing? Who will listen to me? ?
The poem of lime is clear and modest.
A thousand hammers cut deep mountains, and the fire burns like a fool.
Don't be afraid of broken bones and mud, and leave innocence in the world.
Wang Anshi's plum blossom
There are some plums in the corner, and hanling opens them alone.
It's not snow in the distance, because there's a smell coming.
Zheng Xie Zhushi
Adhere to the castle peak and not relax, the root is breaking the rock.
Thousands of blows are still strong, and the wind is east, west, north and south.
Li He's Horse History
The desert sand is like snow, and the Yanshan moon is like a hook.
Don't be a golden brain, let's go and step on the clear autumn.