Is it possible to read a longer poem in three minutes?

You don't see it, the water of the Yellow River comes up from the sky, rushes to the sea and never returns.

You don't see it, Gao Tang Mingjing is sad and white-haired, and the morning is like green silk turning into snow at dusk.

Life must be happy, don't make the gold bottle empty to the moon.

I am born to be useful, and my daughter will come back when I am gone.

Cooking sheep and slaughtering cattle for pleasure will require 300 cups of drink.

Master Cen, Dan Qiusheng, will enter the wine, and you will not stop.

A song with you, please listen to it for me.

The bells and drums are not expensive enough, but I hope that I will not wake up after being drunk for a long time.

The ancient sages were all lonely, and only the drinker left his name.

In the past, King Chen feasted peacefully, and fought wine for ten thousand years.

What is the owner's words, he has to sell the right gentleman.

Five-flowered horses, daughters and daughters, Hu'er will exchange for fine wine, and sell eternal sorrow with you.

Press] Han Yuefu poem title, belongs to "Drum Song Cymbal Song".

The meeting mustache] should.

Cen and Dan] Cen Xun (a native of Nanyang, the author of Yan Zhenqing's book "Xijing Qianfu Temple Duobao Pagoda Induction Tablet"), Yuan Danqiu (a Taoist friend whom Li met in Anlu).

Bells, drums, and jade] The rich and noble people ring the bell when they eat. "Huanghuang Jingluo Xing" "Spend money to stay and sit down, and wait for the bell to ring".

Long Hate Song", "Pipa Xing", "Spring River Flower Moonlit Night".

The intake is too short

How about a long hate song?

Or new poetry.

Shelley's Ode to the Skylark?

I love it.

Spring River Flower Moonlit Night.

Sleepwalking in Tianmu Mountain and singing farewell songs.

The watchman can read it in about 2 minutes.

Mother, I can't go back.

I can't see the way I came.

I can't remember the street sign when I came.

I'm in this strange world.

Reminiscing about the clear mountains and beautiful waters of his hometown.

I don't know when.

The world is blurred.

I don't know when.

Tree buds no longer grow.

I came to this place where I couldn't see the blue sky.

Facing cold, hard asphalt roads.

I wept bitterly.

Facing piles of steel trees.

There was a hollow numbness in my eyes.

Go home, right! Go home.

Back to the riverside where there is no black water.

Go back to the plane tree where a hundred birds gather.

When you return there, you can see the bright stars in the night sky.

But Mother.

I can't go back.

I can only sink and sink in this world that makes me feel dirty.

Struggling, struggling, in this air that suffocates me.

In my struggle, I slowly despaired.

Despair of this chaotic world.

Mother, I can't go back.

There's no going back.

endured the confinement of the stone bench and iron window.

I can't find my way to freedom.

Can anyone tell me.

** is the original country.

I think of the gentle afterglow of the sunset in my hometown.

I don't want to face this headlamp without warmth anymore.

I can no longer smell the sun.

I was fascinated by the smell.

How can I get back to the country road?

I've been all the way.

Missed the season when the azaleas bloom in their hometown.

I can only hold the shapeless plastic and be confused.

I went all the way.

The spirit of May Fourth - an immortal monument.