ancient style poetry
Stories of
念奴娇
Zhang Xiaoxiang
Xingsha beginning, the hope that re-distant water lake, a long misty clouds.
Who read my leaf boat, drifting horizon today.
South Ping Chu, the drain, storm evil everywhere.
Wu and where, is full of all from the cable.
Always remember to send me a row, the Green Wave Pavilion, the weeping through Seira thin.
Yan Qiang people go flying after the curtain is still the city of Hunan.
Endless mountains, endless smoke waves, to live up to CHANGCHUN COMMUNIST about.
Fishing song off, King, tears pour down.
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