The blue clouds are deep, and the road is hard to find deep in the blue clouds.
There are several rafters and thatched houses and clouds, and the clouds are in the shade of pine trees.
Hanging clouds and eight-foot harp and harp, lying on moss stones to pillow the roots of the clouds, folding plum blossoms to refresh the tops of the clouds.
The cloud has no self, the cloud has no self.
I would like to borrow the two white cranes from the old monk and fly together in the deep blue clouds.
My other works:
"As if the Four Seasons are Bright"