A poem describing the darkness before dawn

Four more chickens crow through the forest, and the chill invades the clothes and turns to sleep. At the bottom of the staff, the clouds are dawning, and the nine heroes are hanging a string of moons. The bigger the wave? Enter Jiuxiong Forest Street at dawn.

Busy dressing and whipping, hanging willow tips on the back of the moon;

It hasn't rained at two or three, and there are still seven or eight stars hanging in the sky.

Maodian chicken has opened its mouth, and the dog barking on the bamboo fence is startled;

I can't wait to launch Fusang Day, and the country is in sight. -Zhu Yuanzhang's March at Dawn

I'm not worried about my life. -Orfila's "Luo Chen Bingqiu Xi Baizhang Kang Lexiao Wild Step"

Oh, oh, the morning chicken called out of the city, and the basket suddenly fell asleep. -Zhu Yuanzhang's March at Dawn