Wang Hanxing's Poetry and Prose

Grandma's temple fair, spring comes to the bottom of the cliff, and the impression is that the west is on fire in March, and the spring blossoms. Wang Hanxing: This is an era when poets don't need to sigh, and love and other "three faces" originated. The "pearl yellow" in Tang Dongrong's impression is full of true colors, and it can't help Sichuan in the rain. My girl is a beautiful town called Xuexiang. Six poems describing the happy life in the crowd recall two or three things about my father's association with Mr. Qin Wei.