Poems expressing admiration:

1. Nowadays, people praise God and admire all the spirits.

2, the light has not stopped, and it has been admired for thousands of years.

3. Wang Suncao outside the window, playing the piano in the bedside. I admire the breeze, and I know my bosom friend.

4. I occasionally look for wild temples and admire sages.

5. Admire the same interests. Its fragrance is like orchid. Beauty does not exist. Can you not sigh forever?

6. Look down at the flat ground and doubt the flowing water, admiring the high trace and blocking the dust far away.

7. How can the staff be loyal to benevolence? They admire Hengqu for its speed.

8. It's spring in the small stranger in the south of the city, but plum blossoms are nowhere to be seen. Jade bone has been a spring for a long time, and the ink marks still lock the dust between the walls.

9. The setting sun on the city draws a corner to mourn, and Shenyuan is not a revival of the old pool platform. Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, and it used to be a stunning photo.

1. It's really a miserable night when the dust is full and the curtains are floating. A few times, I secretly wiped my shirt tears, and suddenly I saw Cui Qiao next to the rhinoceros. Only hate, turn boring, even still out of fashion. The withered poplar leaves are exhausted, and the cold rain and the west wind hit the bridge. -"Yu Zhong Hao"

11. On the stranger, the grass is scented with fine grass, and the fish scales are wrinkled with water. Red beans in the south of the Yangtze River are bitter, and flowers bloom every year to remember you.

12. After 4 years of dreams, the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton. This body is a land of mountains and mountains, and it is still a trace of death.

13. Tears are swallowed silently, only ruining fickle feelings in the past. Relying on Dan Qing to save knowledge, Yingying. You can't draw a picture if you are sad. Don't be too specific. Wake up early at midnight. Qing word wakes up early, dreaming, and more. Crying endlessly, the rain bell is ringing at night. -Nanxiangzi

14, I sit here alone, mourning for us both, how many years do I lack now of my threescore and ten?. There have been better men than I to whom heaven denied a son, Pan Yue's mourning is still a waste of words. Even if can be buried can not tell a passions, the afterlife bond is how illusory hope. Yet my open eyes can see all night, that lifelong trouble of your brow.

15. Close the lock and cover the green moss again, and the porch and deep pavilion wander here. The prophet is dizzy in the wind and the moon, but the cold flowers are still blooming. The bat blows the curtain and turns, and the mouse turns over the window net to guess. I'm singing at night when I'm alone with my lamp on my back.

16. I wonder why my inlaid harp has fifty strings, each with its flower-like fret an interval of youth. The sage Chuangzi is day-dreaming, bewitched by butterflies, the spring-heart of Emperor Wang is crying in a cuckoo. Mermen weep their pearly tears down a moon-green sea, blue fields are breathing their jade to the sun. It's worth remembering, has come and gone before I knew. 17, ten years of life and death. Never think, never forget. Thousands of miles away in a lonely grave, there is nowhere to talk about desolation. Even if you don't know when you meet, your face is covered with dust and your temples are like frost.