ancient style poetry
Xiu Yan Wai
蜀中言怀
Wang Shi
Sitting alone in the evening, Chang Huai go rather pass. Sometimes have to ask shadow, nothing but an empty book.
Disposal, such as the sky, a dream of his life. Peng heart is still off, like white hair into the Lions.
Soul trace delay of more than embarrassed, feeling good road turns poor. Parting with the Night Moon, feeling of anxiety every autumn.
Everyone sad Yan Si, Ying Xu Wu Zhai public. Time must be asked, why the childish demand.
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