The sun sets slowly near the western hills, and the Yellow River flows into the East China Sea.

Make further progress. Wang Chun [Tang] Du Fu

Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested.

Petals fall like tears, lonely birds sing their sadness,

In March, a letter from home is worth a ton of gold.

Twisting with melancholy, scratching my head and thinking, the more I scratch my white hair, I can hardly insert a hairpin. Mountain autumn worm [Tang] Wang Wei

The empty mountains are bathed in a new rain, and feel the early autumn at night.

Moonlight shines in the pine forest, and Qingquanshi is a stream.

The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.

My friend's prince, what does it matter if spring is over and you are still here? Sent their friends away.

Green mountains are located on the north side of the city wall, and the sparkling water surrounds the east of the city.

Here we say goodbye to each other, and you, like losing your father, are floating in the wind and traveling far away.

Floating clouds are like wanderers, like wandering, and the sunset slowly goes down the mountain, which seems to be nostalgic.

We waved goodbye, remembering the old days when we were sleeping at the foot of Niuzhu Mountain, and my horse was neighing again and again.

On the west side of the river this night, there was not a cloud in the whole blue sky.

I looked at the moon on the deck and thought of the old general Xie in vain.

I have poems; I can read. He hears others, but it's not mine.

Tomorrow I will raise my sail, the maple leaves falling behind me, in Heron Villa, Wang Zhihuan, Xiao Chun and Meng Haoran.

The sun sets slowly near the western hills, and the Yellow River flows into the East China Sea. Sleeping sickness in spring unconsciously broke the morning, and the chirping of birds disturbed my sleep.

By going up one flight of stairs, I have seen more than a thousand miles, but now I remember that night, that storm, a song by Liu Changqing, Li Bai and Qiu Pu, the owners of Furong Mountain. I don't know how many flowers were broken.

White hair three thousands of feet, sorrow like a beard. The setting sun is far away, the weather is cold and the house is poor.

I don't know where to get autumn frost in the mirror. Chai Men heard dogs barking, and Liu Zongyuan of Jiang Xue returned on a snowy night, and Li Shangyin of Leyouling.

There are no birds flying over those mountains, and there are no traces of people in those paths. In the evening, I was unhappy and drove to Gu.

A boat on the river, a fisherman wearing his webworm moth; Fishing alone is not afraid of snow and ice. Sunset, infinitely beautiful, only near dusk.

Farewell to the viceroy and go to the post of "looking at the moon and thinking about the distant Zhang Jiuling"

Across the wall of Sanqin, across a layer of fog, across a river. The moon, at this time is at sea, over the end of the world.

We said goodbye sadly, and our two officials went in opposite directions. People who love hate long nights and sleepless nights and miss their loved ones.

Know yourself in the sea, and heaven is still our neighbor. Put out the candle to love this moonlit room, and I wander in the deep night dew in my clothes.

Why are you wandering at the fork in the road? The child is holding a towel. You can't have beautiful moonlight, just want to meet you in your dreams.