A famous poem about hometown:

Spring breeze is green in Jiang Nanan, when will the bright moon shine on me?

a wanderer hears drums portending battle, a wild goose in autumn, he knows that the dews tonight will be frost, how much brighter the moonlight is at home!, o my brothers, lost and scattered, what is life to me without you?, yet if missives in time of peace go wrong and what can I hope for during war?.

lifting myself to look, I found that it was moonlight, sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.

wealth does not return to the hometown, just like a night trip in brocade, who knows.

when the sun sets, heartbroken people are far away.

The sound of Yu Di flies in the dark, and the spring breeze fills Los Angeles. No one can miss the national conditions in this nocturne.

a glass of wine in the spring breeze of peaches and plums is a lamp in the Jianghu for ten years.

but since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords, it's even sadder to raise a glass to ease your worries.

Being away from hate is like spring grass. You can go further and live.

There are trees everywhere, so how can you be partial to your hometown?

I am old and sad, and I miss my hometown every year.

Sparrows always smell like lightning, and ants have the color of roots.

suddenly an old song fills, my heart with home, my eyes with tears.

the spring scenery in the two places ends on the same day, so people are homesick for the guests.

evening rain rose in autumn pool before you asked him to return home.

I shall think of you in a floating cloud, so in the sunset think of me.

there should be no hate, and when it grows round.

Candles have a heart to say goodbye and weep for others until dawn.

but how much love has the inch-long grass, won the third spring festival.

when the wind rises in cloud flying, Vega will return to his hometown in the sea, and the valiant soldier will stay in all directions.

how much sorrow you can have is like a river flowing eastward.

the small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers in the Ming dynasty.

The river is 3, miles long, and there are 15 lines of letters from home. There is nothing else to say when you travel, except to return home early.

but I look toward home, and twilight grows dark? There was a mist hanging over the river, bringing deep melancholy to the people.

Being a stranger in a foreign land, I miss my family more every festive season.

Think of wine and flowers as brothers. Duling is cold and eats grass.