Ask for a Tibetan poem or an opening poem. Expressing consciousness is (good luck to Wang Mengyuan)

In the sound of blessings, bid farewell to the old year, firecrackers exploded and welcomed the new year.

The prince and grandson are all allowed to wear cloth and clothes, leaning against the cold window alone.

I know how many flowers fell in my dream, but where to find beauty when I wake up.

Fate comes to listen to providence, and flowers bloom every year.

Good deeds never chase good people, and gains and losses for thousands of years are jokes.

What can wealth and manpower do? The first emperor has already become a floating cloud.

Original. Please feel free to ask questions.