Poetry in literary style

Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night.

The threshold chrysanthemum worries about smoke and tears, the curtain is light and cold, and the swallows fly away. The bright moon doesn't know how to leave sorrow and hate bitterness, and shines obliquely through Zhuhu Lake. -Yan Shu recently.

The first time I met you, in the crisp cup where I met you for the first time, it was so gentle, beautiful and affectionate that my face flushed when I took a sip. We danced and sang heartily, exhausted, and shook the peach fan feebly, from the late-night dance of Liushao Moon until the roof outside the house fell in the middle of the night. -Partridge Tianyan Dao Ji

Shui Yi Spring Festival, hope to send me, Jiangnan plum calyx. Fight for this life, drink for flowers and cry for Iraq. -Zhou Bangyan, Xie Lianhuan

Ling Bo doesn't cross Hengtang Road. But after reading it, Chen Fang left. Who is the golden flower? Qiao Yue Garden, a Zhu Hu with a locked window. Only spring knows this place. -Zhu He in the sapphire case.

Thousands of trees are blooming and stars are everywhere in the east night. BMW carved cars are full of incense. Phoenix flute moves, jade pot turns, fish dragon dances all night. —— Sapphire case Yuan Xin Qiji

At night, a lone boat rises in the lake. The grass is withering and the sun is setting. The fisherman is proud of Chen's kindness.

There are many more.

I won't list them one by one.