Long Yao's 70-year-old new era spans, and Shoushan poetry flies in the sky. He Zulong, the Year of the Loong, Shoubi Taishan. Li Tao is flourishing, and the poetry world is not old. Seventy years of spring is not easy, but how much is hard and sweet. Once you cross the sea, you also rely on helping the sages at home. I have been studying new ink with great concentration these days, and I am more interested in old poems. Now, I hope to dance in the court. I believe life is 200 years. There is a pine tree on the steep bank of Jinsha, eager to cultivate ancestors. When peaches and plums are in full bloom, they are lonely, and when there is frost and snow, they compete for green onions. Roots love sunny spring rain more, and leaves still pity the breeze in Cuigu. Teachers are admirable, rare and worthy of rejuvenation. Nanshan is so carefree. Now Zhang Guo is boasting about the harvest of veterans in the poetry garden, and the political show leads coquettish spring and snow to embrace. The bright moon and clear spring are still restraining you, so I will bless the flat peach.