Ask for two ancient poems or small poems of about 130 words.

Spring snow in Qinyuan. Qinyuan Spring Changsha.

Qu Yuan's nine songs are all good.

唧 (jī) 唧 complex chirp, Mulan as a household weaving. I don't hear the sound of the machine (zhù), but I only hear the sigh of the woman. Ask the woman what she thinks, and ask the woman what she remembers.

Women don't think about anything, and women don't remember. Last night, I saw the military post (tiě), and the khan (kè hán) ordered the troops. There are twelve volumes of military books, and the scrolls have the name of the master.

Grandpa has no eldest son, and Mulan has no eldest brother. I am willing to be a saddle (ān) horse for the city of (wèi), and from now on for the grandfather.

The east market buys horses, the west market buys saddle sheath (jiān), the south market buys bridle (pèi) head, and the north market buys long whips. As soon as I leave my grandmother, I will stay by the Yellow River at dusk. I don't hear the voice of the grandmother calling the girl, but I hear the splashing of the Yellow River.

As soon as he left the Yellow River, he went to the head of Montenegro at dusk. I don't hear the voice of the grandmother calling the girl, but I hear the Yanshan Hu Qi (jì) Ming Chirp (jiū jiū).

Thousands of miles to the Rong (róng) plane, Guan Shan is like flying. 朔 (shuò) qi transmission golden 柝 (tuò), cold light iron clothing. The general died in a hundred battles, and the strong man returned in ten years.

When I returned to see the Son of Heaven, the Son of Heaven sat in the Ming Hall. Twelve turns of the Celestial Order, rewarding the hundred thousand strong (qiáng). Khan asked what he wanted, Mulan didn't need Shang Shulang, he was willing to gallop thousands of miles and send his son back to his hometown.

When the grandmother heard that the girl was coming, she came out of Guo Xiang to help the general (jiāng); 阿妹 (zǐ) Wen Mei came, and took care of the red makeup; When the younger brother heard that his sister came, he sharpened his knife to the pigs and sheep. Open the door of my east pavilion and sit on my west pavilion bed. Take off my wartime robe, and write (zhuó) my old time clothes (cháng).

When the window is cloudy sideburns (bìn), the mirror paste (tiē) is yellow. When I went out to see the fire companion, the fire companion was frightened. has been together for 12 years, but I don't know that Mulan is a girl.

The feet of the male rabbit are fluttering, and the eyes of the female rabbit are blurred; Double rabbit (bàng) walking, can Ann tell that I am male and female?

The willow is straight, and the smoke is blue.

On the Sui embankment, how many times have you seen it, blowing the water and sending it off?

Landing in the homeland. Who knows, Beijing is tired of customers?

Changting Road, in the past year, should be folded over a thousand feet.

Wander for the old. and wine took advantage of the mourning, and the lamp shone on the table.

Pear blossom elm fire promotes cold food.

sorrow an arrow the wind is fast, and the half-penny wave is warm

Go back and pass the handy number. looking at people in the north of the world.

Sadness, hatred accumulates. Gradually, Pu lingered, and Jin was silent.

The sun is rising and the spring is endless.

Reading the moon pavilion hand in hand, dew the bridge and listen to the flute.

Pondering the past, like in a dream, tears are dripping.

Send spring away. There is no way to go to the world in spring.

Outside the swing, the grass is in the sky, who sends the wind and sand to the dark Nanpu.

I am very impressed. Memory, Haimen flying flocculent.

The crows have been chaotic, the city is deserted, and the lights are not seen when they come.

Spring goes to the most bitter people. But the arrow goose is Shenbian, and Liang Yan has no owner.

The sound of the cuckoo wrapped in the twilight of the long door.

I want the jade tree to wither the soil, and the tears are like dew.

Xianyang Tuke has repeatedly reviewed. The slanting sun did not cross.

Spring goes. Not yet. Zhengjiang hated goodbye, and Yu Xin was sad.

Su Causeway is full of wind and rain.

Sigh the journey to the homeland, and remember the former degree.

Life is lost, Gu Ruzi, talking at night.

Roll bead foil, light rain and shade.

Outside the trunk, the smoke willow is eye-catching, and the herbs invade the red medicine.

The east wind is jealous of the flowers, blowing off the tender calyxes on the tips.

The mountains are covered, the water is tired, and the wine is timid.

Thinking about the old Jingluo, he is young and crazy, and he is fascinated by singing and laughing.

The mud barrier oil wall is combed and swept away, and it has been galloped with the same load.

Shanglin joined hands, and the light night was too early to make an appointment, and they were fighting for letters.

Lonely, happy thoughts.

Very pink and light clothes, the sound is broken, and the moon is like yesterday.

After saying goodbye to Huabiao, that time Shuanghe.

Acacia is in addition to being drunk, and forgetting for the time being.

Nian Nujiao two songs.

1 Jiuzhaigou.

In the vast Milky Way, in the years, how many stars have changed?

How many homesick dreams are there on a cold night?

Pity is long and short.

For many years, although his face has declined, his anger has not diminished.

Facing the night sky, counting the cold stars.

Living alone in the wilderness, the hut is small, but the seats are full of guests.

Everyone raised their glasses and sang, but they were sentimental.

It's not yesterday, I haven't cherished it, and the human affection is cold and warm.

One person has walked through, how many ditches and bumps?

2 Guanglingsan.

Fame and fortune are not mine.

Why bother?

Flick your sleeves and be angry to the end of the world, and there is no spring, summer, autumn and winter.

How many years have passed since Guangling was dispersed?

I don't hear the sound of poetry and books.

Looking forward to it, only to see the eagle in the sky.

The volcano erupted at my feet, thundered and roared, and the wind revived me.

Bearing the hatred and hatred of the world, fighting for thousands of miles.

What the whip refers to, all the people want, and the young rejoice in great achievements.

Strategize, and move the earth for a while.

Since it's an exhibition, let's get something imposing. Let's use *** poetry. Qinyuan Spring, Changsha, 1925, Independence Cold Autumn, Xiangjiang River North, Orange Island, see the red mountains all over, the forests are dyed.

The river is clear and transparent, hundreds of boats compete for the stream, the fish soars to the shallow bottom, and the ten thousand kinds of frost compete freely and ask the vast earth who is the master of the ups and downs.

Bringing hundreds of couples to Zeng You, reminiscing about the past and the eventful years, just classmates and young people, in the prime of life, scholarly business, scolding Fang Xuan, pointing out the country, inspiring words, dung, when ten thousand households were waiting for the memory, to hit the water in the middle stream, and the waves to curb the flying boat.

King of Lanling (130 words) - Zhou Bangyan.

The willow is straight, and the smoke is blue. On the Sui embankment, how many times have you seen it, blowing the water and sending it off? Coming to look at the homeland, who knows Jinghua tired guests?

Changting Road, in the past year, should be folded over a thousand feet. Idle looking for old traces, and drinking while mourning, the lamp shines and leaves the table. Pear blossom elm fire promotes cold food.

Worried about an arrow and the wind is fast, half a penny wave is warm, turning back and handing a few posts, looking at people in the north of the sky. Sadness, hatred accumulates. Gradually farewell Pu lingers, Jin is lonely, and the slanting sun is rising in spring.

Reading the moon pavilion hand in hand, dew the bridge and listen to the flute. Pondering the past, like in a dream, tears are dripping.

Da Yu (133 words) - Zhou Bangyan.

The smoke is harvested, the spring birds are quiet, and the high house is singing when the rain is flying. The wall is green and jade, the lead cream is exhausted, and the tender tips touch. Moisten the piano silk, the cold invades the pillow barrier, and the insect net blows the sticky curtain bamboo.

The post booth is nowhere to be found, listening to the sound of the eaves constantly, sleepy and first ripe. Nai is extremely frightened, dreams are light and difficult to remember, and self-pity is lonely. Pedestrians return to speed up, the first to read, flow and hinder the hub.

How can Xiang Lan become haggard, Wei Jue is clear, and when he is free, he is easy to hurt his own mind. Pingyang is not to blame, double tears fall, and the flute is lamenting. The situation is sluggish, Qingwu country, red grits pave the ground, and the thorn peach outside the door is like a mushroom.

Who holds the candle during the night tour?

Song head (136 words) - Tang Zhuangzong.

Enjoy the spring, the warm breeze flutters. The warbler cries in the green trees, and the light smoke cage is in the evening pavilion. Apricot pink, open calyx.

Linghe Palace, forbidden willow thousand lines of oblique, golden silk. There are many clouds in summer, the strange peaks are like cutting, the fan is slightly cool, and the silk is thin. The rainy season is shining, and the fire clouds are shining.

Near the water threshold, escape the heat forever, and drink widely. Revlon, cold and high. Carved leaves, a flash of evening breeze.

The sound of cicadas and the new rain rest, regret this time, such as flowing water, when the chrysanthemum is left, sigh Xiao Suo. Accumulation of clouds, twilight of the year. The scene is difficult to stay, and I don't feel that my face is lost.

Good looks, and must call guests. The long night in the West Garden, feasting on cloud ballads. Singing and having fun.

Dolly (139 words) - Chao mends it.

The new autumn is approaching, and the Jin Gong Annex has a feast. When the Qing Dynasty is happy, the cup is happy, and the green field hall is not spared. The embroidered screen is deep, the beauty is out at first, and the thunderstorm is in the middle of the sitting.

The flowers are warm, the ice is condensed, and the Baochai shakes and falls into the gold. has not been played, Zhaojun has a grudge, and the four seats are already sad. In the west wind, Xiangjie is stationed on the horse, and the laughter is passed on.

It has never been commonplace, and the beginning of the broken intestine is against the clouds. The night will be the lower leaves, and the bricks will resound the cicadas. Lai Duo was worried, Xunyang Sima, who was not in front of the feast at that time.

Competing for appreciation, leaning on the trough, and being drunk to the boat. Fangchun tune, red and green calyx, re-change into a new Yan...

King of Lanling. The willow is straight, and the smoke is blue.

On the Sui embankment, how many times have you seen it, blowing the water and sending it off?

Landing in the homeland. Who knows, Beijing is tired of customers?

Changting Road, in the past year, should be folded over a thousand feet.

Wander for the old. and wine took advantage of the mourning, and the lamp shone on the table.

Pear blossom elm fire promotes cold food.

sorrow an arrow the wind is fast, and the half-penny wave is warm

Go back and pass the handy number. looking at people in the north of the world.

Sadness, hatred accumulates. Gradually, Pu lingered, and Jin was silent.

The sun is rising and the spring is endless.

Reading the moon pavilion hand in hand, dew the bridge and listen to the flute.

Pondering the past, like in a dream, tears are dripping.

Send spring away. There is no way to go to the world in spring.

Outside the swing, the grass is in the sky, who sends the wind and sand to the dark Nanpu.

I am very impressed. Memory, Haimen flying flocculent.

The crows have been chaotic, the city is deserted, and the lights are not seen when they come.

Spring goes to the most bitter people. But the arrow goose is on the side, and Liang Jingfu Yan has no owner.

The sound of the cuckoo wrapped in the twilight of the long door.

Think of Yushu. The soil is withered, and the tears are like dew.

Xianyang Tuke has repeatedly reviewed. The slanting sun did not cross.

Spring goes. Not yet. Zhengjiang Ling hated goodbye, Yu Xin.

Roll bead foil, light rain and shade.

Outside the trunk, the smoke willow is eye-catching, and the herbs invade the red medicine.

The east wind is jealous of the flowers, blowing down the tender calyx of the tip.

Ping shan. Cover, sink and smoke, and the wine is timid.

Thinking about the old Jingluo, he is young and crazy, and he is fascinated by singing and laughing.

The mud barrier oil wall is combed and swept away, and it has been the same. Carry. Kamibayashi.

Hand in hand, the beginning of the night is too early to make an appointment, and the letter is drifting.

Lonely, happy thoughts.

Very pink and light clothes, the sound is broken, and the moon is like yesterday.

After saying goodbye, Huabiao.

That time, Shuanghe. Acacia is in addition to being in the world, and Xiang Zuiliang accompanies the world and forgets it for the time being.