The pavilions are six or seven, and the flowers bloom in eighty or ninety.
"Two orioles sing green willows, and egrets cover the sky."
My window framed the snow-covered western hills. My door often says "goodbye" to ships sailing eastward.
One, two, three or four, five, six, seven or eight.
Nine dollars, ten dollars, countless dollars, all missing when flying into Mei.
Unique leaf, as a poet of 23, walked through six beaches and seven bays with four paddles and five sails, but it was a pity that it was ten minutes late.
No one walks in Shili Pavilion, and there are stars in the sky. All ships in Bahe River are closed, and all seven thousand counties are closed.
Six palaces and five houses belong to the official slaughter, and the four seas and three rivers fish. The bell rang on the second floor, and a bright moon filled Kun.
One year old, day after day, autumn after autumn, one generation urges another. Meeting and parting, we have happiness and sadness. Lying on the sofa, dreaming all my life. Find a group of acquaintances, meet for a while, play for a while, and sing for a while.
A sail, an oar, a fishing boat, a fisherman and a hook. A bow and a smile, a bright moon and an autumn.
A busy, a busy, a walk, a really ordinary. Every day is beautiful and cool. A little clear light, surrounded by the setting sun. One breath crosses the other. The knot of the elixir of God is the extension of life. A spirit permeates people and cloud rooms. A pair of golden boys, a piece of fairy land.