春花秋月入诗篇,白日清宵是散仙。
空卷珠帘不曾下,长移一榻对山眠。
Blossoms of spring, the autumn moon—
you have to turn them into poems
the bright days, the clear nights—
you feel surrounded by floating gods
I rolled up the curtain idly
and never rolled it back
I moved my couch to face the mountains
and slept here from then on.
Seven-character poem
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