Qiao Wang Han Do not you see people painting landscapes, night, wind and thunder exposing window paper. Clear picture has not seen snakes in Changsha hole, full of smoke turned twist that axis. Two sons, quite different for hundreds of years, his writings wonderful Italian who can pass. He taught at Sungei Road flyover, see the strokes worthy of a shoulder. A pen light, smoke reflected Chueiyang shore. Toyama according to the contract do not yet no, not red Autumn Man shines. Document a strong, strong wind turned dark million stack. Yanai River at dusk dark, dim world stars are faint. Casual poet understand language, to be king for a silent sentence spit. When will seek to take a fine silk chiffon, writing my heroic with rain.