Author Wen TianXiang 洛阳一别四千里,边庭流血成海水。自经丧乱少睡眠,手脚冻皴皮肉死。反鏁衡门守环堵,稚子无忧走风雨。此时与子空归来,喜得与子长夜语。 Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments