Evil Monkey

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The poem begins with the feeling of rain at night in Bashan; the ink falls in the quiet place of the bamboo forest. Climb the green mountains and write with clouds; write beautiful thoughts to wash away the dust.

I have already gotten my hands dirty with ink without intending to do it; I stay up late at night while drunkenly reciting poems. The dust-free heart in the writing is calm; there are dreams in the chest that are difficult to understand.

I can bear to read the spring breeze and write goodbye; I can listen to the night rain to stir up my sorrow. The light in the cup is light and the light is light; the eyebrows are raised and the pen and ink are full of meaning.

The drizzle makes the branches green, and the spring thunder stirs up. The thunderous day brings newness to everything in spring. The river breeze blows the willows, and the apricots bloom in spring. I like to see the beautiful scenery of spring and pick up the pen to write a new chapter.

The spring shadow of the swallow is green in the wind; the poem describes the waves of the willows and the fragrance of the ink. The green bamboo also has the ambition to fly; the green lotus sways and blooms.

On the second day of February, the dragon raises its head; spring returns to the earth and everything revives. The peach and plum blossoms are in bloom, and swallows are building their nests; willows are shaded on both sides of the river. Xintan should not disappoint tourists. Come and take a spring trip with your clothes lightly. The wind blows on the face under the willow among the flowers, singing softly and happily.

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