Wushan is a cloud and misses his hometown
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
The rain is cheap and the yellow flowers are thin, and the frost is clear and the water is cold.
The flat boat made waves. To whom the waves of heart turn.
The geese go to the clouds without a trace, and the poetry is spotted.
My hometown is separated by thousands of mountains. Where to ask for peace.
Wulingchun travels in early spring and misses his hometown
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
The water reads the clouds, the plum misses the snow, and the grass is Changchun's heart.
Guo waisheng smoke birds flutter in the forest, and the sunset is drunk with flowers.
Rest freely Yang Hua everywhere, laugh at me and read my bosom friend.
Don't ask how deep the lovesickness is, and say goodbye to now.
Bead curtain roll homesickness
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
Thousands of piles of snow, thousands of mountains, Cheng Cheng is not a township.
The autumn water is empty and the moon is bright, and the waves in the middle of the lake are turning.
Pouring hatred is only sorrowful for eternity, and the cloak is strangely cold.
Love is deep in the wine glass, people are easy to get drunk, and dreams are difficult.
Partridge day nostalgia
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
The waves of the island are far away from the sky, and the sycamore is less in the rain.
Sorrow is like wine under the sun, and the past is like smoke in the ancient city.
Bear a land, read the double bell. Jingling is famous in a hundred cities.
Mengduo repeated his return to Zhanggang, and the Han River flowed and sang the gale.
The tallest building Wangxiang
Wen Tianya is a tired guest.
The sun sets, and the mountains and rivers are boundless. Swift swallow around the forest spring.
The breeze does not like the flat tide, but the light smoke loves to form a melon garden.
Twilight is late, people are lonely, and it is a cold day.
The most bitter thing is that you can't return to it.
What's more bitter is that the end of the world has become a tired guest.
This hope has endured for years.
Dancing in front of the wind with white hair, kneeling in front of the mother in a sad dream.
Hate is long, the heart is bitter, and tears ripple.
Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life.