C82 Xing he dong

Evening, the moon was half-moon.

The well-fed literati began a new round of creation in the moonlight.

"Moonlight in front of the bed, frost on the ground, no doubt. Raising your head and looking at the bright moon, you will lower your head and think of your homeland. "

I hummed as I wrote.

"Good poem, good poem!" I praised him by saying