Who knows a modern poem as modern and refined as Zheng Chouyu's Miscellaneous Characters and Bian's Broken Chapters?

Three generations in Cang Kejia

Children bathe in the mud;

Dad is sweating in the soil;

Grandpa was buried in the soil.

Cang Kejia's old horse

You have to ask the cart to fill it up. It didn't say a word anyway.

The pressure on the back buckled into the meat, and it hung its head heavily!

I don't know the fate of the next moment, but it only swallows tears in its heart.

A whip shadow floated before his eyes, and he looked up at the front.

Gu cheng's generation

The night gave me black eyes.

I use it to find the light.