Luo Zhihai Poems

Downpour over the top of brain
Being very worried about the geostrophic wind
Dark fragrance full in the sleeve, autumn moon goes through
Sparse shadows transverse on the window, spring heart beats like phoenix
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Lotus flowers reflecting the sun are red
Lotus leaves connecting the sky are luxuriant green
The bright moon and cool breeze, the autumn colors are drunk
The beauty and mellow wine, fragrans fragrance is thick
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People don't greedy hijack in the high realm
Buddha comes near this world to show theurgy
A touch of spring feeling is shallow on the branch
Two bends of missing on the forehead are thick
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The vast sky and the autumn water in the tweedle
The lonely mallard and the sunset glow of the remnant in the moonlight
On the Swallow Rock, a ship breaks the waves
Outside the Peach Blossom Cave, fog twines pines
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Revisit the old haunt, the scenery is charming
A commonplace talk of an old scholar, the moonlight is dim
Two banks of the peach blossoms are charming red
One river of the spring water is sparkling green
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A sound of sigh, youth is distant and out of sight
Several wisps of sorrows, white hairs grow
The ancient road and the setting sun, shadow of the horse alone
A pleasant day coupled with a fine landscape, the singing orioles
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Visited all the beautiful scenery in China
Married a pretty beauty beyond the Great Wall
Crowing of cocks at daybreak scared your dream
Emerald bamboos greeted spring, played the phoenix music
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Break sounds of orioles, the spring month willows
Urges apricots red, the rolling curtain wind
Landscape clear and pretty, the West Lake scenery
A place propitious for giving birth to great men, the Guangdong small-fruited fig tree
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Curling up to the sky several wisps of the cooking smoke
Around the bank thousand layers of the shadows of willows
One touch of desolation, the returning wild geese are remote
Thirty percent of chilliness, the fallen plum blossom in sorrow
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Long live in the mountain, don't see immortals
Lonely walk below the moon, miss my wife
The green tea can be tasted half a day of leisure
My pen difficult to write things through the time
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