In ten miles in lotus pond, the red dust is drunk
In a thousand autumns in the pine ridge, the green rhymes flow
The curvy bright moon hangs on the building top
To the willow bank, wisps of the east breeze blows
Metric New Poetry ● Seven Words of Quatrain by Luo Zhihai
The 11,297th Two Pairs of Couplets, 1/22/2021