Return at night. Wen Xu Sheng.
One. The evening breeze is cool on the sparse sideburns, and the night is like a curtain to remove camouflage.
The oblique moon breaks through the clouds and the light is gradually full, and the lonely shadow is longer than sorrowful.
Two. A path is deep and a path is wind, and this heart is not the same as it was then.
The toad light shone rose-colored alone, and Qingqing blushed before noticing.
Three. The mobile phone wants to dial the sleep, and the noisy midnight heat steam.
A few o'clock cheers to leave old memories, and now there are only street lights on the same road.
Four. The old path is now a ride, and the sound of traffic is far away.
It's hard to keep the starlight, and the wind is leaning towards me.
Five. The moonlight is in the eye, and the past is lazy to sign.
Walking alone or can be picked up again, a little sweet in the wind that day.
Night. Wen Xu Sheng.
One. Thoughts are getting far away and the night is sinking, and some of the past is just like a needle.
Weaving a net of years, the struggling people are deep and deep.
Two. The case is empty and the jade shadow is slanted, and you can't give credit to the wine.
It's hard to see through my heart, and I'm afraid of pulling the curtains to cover the moon.
Three. There is never a desire to fight in the world, and the moon shines brightly in the sky.
Now he has been confused, and if he has a sincere heart, he will not be clear.
Four. There is a heart that is always flying, and the deep courtyard cannot be enclosed.
The boundless night is often nourished, and the wisps of acacia are gradually fattening.
Five. If you don't pick up the starlight and pick up the moonlight, the starlight is too chaotic and easy to hesitate.
The red dust is boundless and now asks, my heart ** pretends?
Tanabata. Wen Xu Sheng.
One. In the dream, this day is coming a hundred times, and the jade dew is poured and poured.
The magpie bridge was built to the shore of the Milky Way, and the people crossed the heart.
Two. The golden wind came to his ears again, and the thousand years of resentment were deep.
Don't ask how much you have met, and your tears should wet your hundred heavy clothes.
Three. The autumn wind snubbed the clothes of the deceased, and the heart has flown when it comes to a good day.
If you dream every year, you don't want to return after the Magpie Bridge.
Four. It is a trick that the clouds have now converged, and the Milky Way is boiling on both sides of the strait.
The golden wind and jade dew are put into the soup, and the acacia is fried for a few flavors.
Five. The old magpie bridge is so about, the long night is cool and the autumn breeze is thin.
The words in front of the lamp were once like yesterday.
About the Author. 
Xu Shengdai (pen name: Tianya Guke), Han nationality, native of Beiqi Town, Yangdong District, Yangjiang City, Guangdong, president of Lingxi Poetry Society, and editorial board member of "Huazhou Poetry Garden". His works were selected for "Pastoral", "Poetry is the Most Beautiful Struggler Song", and "Shanghai Poetry Leaves". Since childhood, he has been fond of literature, music, calligraphy and painting, and chess, especially classical Chinese poetry.