On the first day, the pupils are like Xiaoxia, the rain marks Xinji Dutousha; the stream is deep and a few curves of the cloud and the gorge, and the trees are thousands of years old and snowy flowers; the white birds go back to the side of the road, and the green cliffs are missing to see people; it takes only through this that the strange victories are passed through here, and there is no work on the river

On the first day, the pupils are like Xiaoxia, the rain marks are new jidutousha; the stream is deep and the clouds are hidden in the gorge, and the trees are old for thousands of years; the white birds go back to the road, and the green cliffs are missing to see people; the strange victories are passed through here, and there is no envy on the river. Mr. Wang Yangming's landscape poetry language is timeless and beautiful, borrowing natural landscapes, expounding the philosophy of the universe and life, and writing about my realm everywhere [smile] [smile]