Xu Zichu's Poetry and Zi Zichu's Poetry

Xu Zi's poem at the beginning: resting between the walls of Taoist temples in Western Qin Dynasty.

Author: Zhou Ding

Xu Fulou's boat can't go back, and the waves in Haimen East are like thunder.

You don't have to push the red medicine next to the Qingluan Dance Yaotai.

Robbery and cremation are scorched earth, and heavy springs are buried alone.

Immortals are not isolated from the world. Have a drink before they rot.

Classification: poems at the bottom of a cup

Su Changling's Painting: Zhang Yining

Xu Yuan Jun came all the way from Xijiang River and personally made a turquoise for perilla.

Three thousand years of loose iron makes the skin, and the stone is too cold and antique.

Several old trees are interdependent, and Ziggy dare not compete with them.

The boat swayed in front of the continent, and the short river was clear and blue.

Singing, I look up at the blue sky and the white shore.

Dongshan rises under the moon, and Chibi is boundless.

Tibetan dumplings dance out of the nest, storks fly, and Jiang Ji moves three times.

The people in the eyes are too white, and there is nothing unusual.

It is not easy to get a beautiful scenery in the world after hearing the love affair of our predecessors today.

Xu Jun added Ye Fu to play the flute.

Classification: flute-tailed poems

Quasi-cloud and loose rhyme

Author: Lan Ren

Xu Miao is a saint and Liu prays for God.

Drunk hometown has ancient meaning, and the old scenery makes people laugh.

There is no brown at the end of the year, and there is still no towel at its peak.

Never been scolded by the chief, or with the great saint.

Classification: Poems at the End of Lun

The first word is an ancient poem by Chen.

Li Bai's Zen Room with Friends and Cenlun

ChanJuan floating on the moon, shaking the bright laurel water cloud.

Beauty went alone, but I was safe.

Han Yixiao, wanqing points.

Thinking about the rosy clouds, I dreamed of rest.

Return to Hongdu Sanxiang, and walk a hundred times.

The blade dust stains the sword, and it falls in the daytime.

The spring breeze turns to Chu Guan, and the autumn sound falls in Wu Shan.

The vegetation is sad, and the sand is sad.

The past is permanent, and thoughts are like a cycle.

Fluttering is limited to Jiang nationality, and imagination is left blank.

Don't be full of tears when you are away from troubles.

I sat sadly at the end of the sky and looked out at Huang Yun.

What long eyes, plum blossom Nanlingtou.

If birds are destroyed in the sky, there is no boat to return to.

A sword is hard to hold, but a gold bag is hard to find.

If you have any problems coming back, Guishushan will live in seclusion.

I hope I can help you!