Old fisherman
-Liu Zongyuan
The fisherman rests on the western hills at night, learns the clear water in the morning, and cooks for firewood.
Then, at sunrise, he walked through the fog. Alas, it was a green landscape.
Looking back, the fishing boat has drifted below the horizon, and white clouds are floating in the mountains, chasing each other.
Banqiao road
-Bai Juyi
Liangyuan is twenty miles west of the city, with a canal and thousands of willows.
If the road is blocked today, the boss bridge was built fifteen years ago.
I once bid farewell to Yu Yan Bridge, but I didn't know the news until now.