唐代 黄麟 Huang Lin  唐代  
One poem at a time

Huang Lin
  Insects chirping sound chaotic, but people are the number of chips. Soul Dongting night, lying in Luoyang autumn frost.
  Micro-month sometimes hidden, the river flows into the dawn. It also will urge Yan, rural letter in Wu Chau.
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郡中客舍