How to write poetry on the white camphor tree.

"Send to Xu'an Road to Zhangshudian"

Kong Wuzhong of the Song Dynasty

The narrow southeast road stretches to the sky with purple green peaks.

The light clouds are still covering the sun, and the light rain is urging the farmers.

The valley birds are rushing to throw branches, and the mountain flowers are thickly falling in the streams.

I don’t want to return the rock now, but we are chatting and laughing happily.

"Camphor Tree"

Shu Yuexiang of the Song Dynasty

A horned dragon walks on the flat ground among the branches, and the wind and rain are cold in the middle of the high trunk.

When spring comes and the red leaves fall, who will put the poem on the beach?

"Wugong Temple in Zhangshu Town"

Hezhong of the Yuan Dynasty

I am tired of being restrained and restrained for a long time, and I am relaxed and relaxed for a while.

Get close to the door of Zen, choose a step to experience the moss.

The pines are heavy and the shadow is heavy, and the water is shining far away.

The lingering fragrance of the remaining flowers is lingering, and the new twittering of the birds is heard.

The empty corridor is clear and the day is long, and eminent monks sit and talk.

If you are ignorant of what you have learned, you will be distracted by your worries.

You will know your return when you move the sundial, and the forest will be full of smoke at night.

"Zhangshu Zhen Zhou Zhongzhu"

Ming Dynasty Yang Ji

Nong is a fisherman from Wusong, and his family grew up in the Wujiang Estuary.

The slow and long-flying birds fly first, and the roundabout ones fall behind everyone.

Fathers, old and young know each other in the city, and children in the countryside also see each other being bullied.

I copied the "Biography of Gao Shi" carefully for a few days, and the poem "Kaopan" in large seal script on the wall.

The spring breeze washes the flowers with a hundred grasses, and throws the fishing coops at the wedding slip.

Xu Shi still mocks officials for neglecting their affairs, and his wife and children want to laugh at the vulgarity.

The poor horse may not be able to survive the long journey. When will your grace allow you to give him a hairpin?

The half-canopied autumn rain mist covers the water, and a few cold stars and moon fill the pond.