1. Poems about pies Poems about pies 1. Poems in praise of pancakes Yanjing Spring Evening Sends to People in the Mountains (2 poems) Author: Mindfulness The silkworms are ripe and the mulberry trees are greener, the orioles are singing and the wheat is beginning to turn yellow.

Eat cakes and follow the swallows and thistles, and recall the Jingyang and Yang trees in the sky.

Dividing water and paving the road Author: Zhang Yining I remember Minzhong Road for a long time, now it is east of Ma Shou.

The mountains are high, the clouds are easy to rain, and the valleys are full of water and windy.

Butterflies hug fallen flowers, and birds sing deep in the bamboo bushes.

A person's fame and fortune are like a cake, and his life experience is unique.

Wang Mingsheng Author: Zhang Minbiao I live in Xi'an in Yan City, let's talk about it again.

The tea is cooked over bamboo fire, and the cakes are boiled and fish slurry is soaked.

The sun and the moon are recorded, and the wind and frost are familiar to the feet.

It is said that there is a drought in Dongjun, so why is it so comforting?

Fenghuai Qian Zongbo's Sea on the Sea Author: Yu Jia Looking to the east, there are mountains and green clouds.

Tianhe traveled to Bingshe, and Ranggeng lived in Sui.

The common mountain is blocked by the Wen River, and the extension is carried by the spirit.

Guanlong senses hunting Lin, and the golden version migrates across the ground.

The soup is hot and the pheasant paste is served, but the chicken ribs are discarded when they are cold and shameful.

The girls fight and pose, and the mirror is fixed and fake.

The recorded cloth is like clouds, who is Dan lacquerware.

Xuanfeng talks about the white horse, purple energy makes the green cow think.

If you want to know more about Qiongchu, you must first sign up for the word "cake".

The gate can be stepped up and down, and when the passage is good, it can be turned over.

There are two pairs of Ruanxiu ginseng and two sects of fragrant teapots.

The long-cherished tendency is like the heart, and the smoke liquid will eventually become a metaphor.

2. Poems about pancakes "Drum Belly Song" goes through: I have suffered a lot of misfortunes in the past, but the blue sky has left me until the good times.

Hearing the bells and drums, the muscles are growing, but the hair is white but black, and I don’t know it.

The old man in the east neighbor likes to play the flute, and the E'e valley in the warehouse is very red.

The cakes are made of red shrimps and elk meat, and the wine is like turbid fermented wine. I'm told to eat it.

I often get drunk by the waterside of Huang'an, and all the people know me. There are six or five emperors, four or three emperors.

Kui is like a dragon and Gong Huang, I don't know what the words are.

"Three Poems Written on the Wall of Ni's House" The green milk flowers cooked in Xiu tea are reflected in the curtain, and the bitter bamboo shoots supported by the sand are slender and silvery.

The mountains in the window are green and sticky, and the owner is insatiable with me.

The white mulberry and red mandarin orioles gulp down, while they knead jade dust cakes and pick up the snow.

It's been a few days since January, and the master has specially cut it for me.

The beautiful water and grass cover the mountain road, and the sleeping mandarin ducks look like paintings.

The spring mist suddenly turned dusk, and the master refused to let go.

"Three Poems to the King and His Excellency in the Autumn Residence" The cicadas are falling in the Zen forest during the break, and moss can grow on the dry ground.

A good sentence is careless, and the breeze is coming.

The cake is only a joy to eat, and the society has gained the favor.

It's still like the sun in the mountains, and the firewood gate won't even open.

The sound of the pine trees is as high as a waterfall, and the ripe color of the medicine is like flowers.

Who knows that he is not sick at all, but he is still not at home at all times.

The mountain boy pounded the rice noodles, and the gardener gave me the silver melon.

Who visits Sun Hong Pavilion and talks about Xuan until the sun sets?

Qi and very good harmony, ordinary people strive to know.

You have to be poor to the end to become a monk.

The bird in the pavilion holds red millet, and the neighboring monk carries an ancient stele.

Only in response to the king and Xie, there will be a Wozhou period.

"Five Poems by the Taoist Wuxiang" Guan Xiu has nothing to do, and the love of the lonely peak.

He only eats acorn cakes and loves to talk about Brother Tao.

The lotus root is dug by the civet in the pond, and the mountain god walks in the daytime.

I also heard that walking on one's feet means that it can transform into groups of living beings.

Since the days when I was looking for a master, I have reached the top.

Although the smell is not similar, it makes people particularly sad.

The trees in the courtyard were damaged by snow, and there were white macaques on them.

The great dragon in the Dharma can go but cannot stay.

Those who often think about the way will talk about it by the fireside.

The roundabout talk has no taste for the world, and the mountains are numb in the middle of the night.

When I went down the mountain, I was in chaos, and my many illnesses were hidden deep inside.

After thirty years of separation, the smoke and water are vast and empty.

Since Shi Shuang obeys the world, my master will not live there either.

There are orangutans in the cedars and laurels, but there are no sentences in the chaff.

The soil is rich in ferns, and the Taoist elders are like infants and children.

There is nothing more rare than the rare night-blooming night-blooming night-blooming night-blooming cereus.

Hundreds, thousands, billions of verses, please don’t negotiate with him.

So the old man gave a secret message to Kasyapa.

My master has obtained this method, regardless of calamity or calamity.

Once you go, you can't stay. If you don't leave a trace, you're like a sneak.

"Farewell to the Monk's Ling Xia" Guan Xiu is an old acquaintance of the border commander, and he is both a teacher and a victor.

There is only white grass in the sky, and there is red salt in the wild cakes.

The wind blows heavily near Fan, and the river is half flooded.

Because I know my heart is like the moon, there are people looking at me everywhere.

"He Wei Xianggong saw that he was lying down at leisure" He continued to carve shapes to find out the appearance, and he did everything without sleeping.

The rain is just rain. If it is not smoke, it is smoke.

Children collect fruits from the trees in the garden, and the wind drags the papers on their desks.

Zhong Hui is dedicated to imperial edicts, but He Chongya loves Zen.

Jing feels that the mountains are too far away, and illness feels like the wine glass is too far away.

The sound of wormwood first penetrates the wall, and the orchid buds are half out of the brick.

There is a golden millet statue hanging in the hall, and the door is supported by a ditch and spring.

Although Danmu is held frequently, who dares to melt the curtain?

He was a man of high moral character and good at planting a few lifetimes ago.

Repair the black leather table and hide the deep felt.

Supporting the saint for thousands of years, the cicada sounds cool and unrestrained.

The chess formation is like a waning moon, and the monks are like a big bump.

I always know that life is like an illusion, and its dimensions are as straight as a string.

The cake reminds me of the beauty of water shield soup, and the tea reminds me of Yue Waterfall Jian.

I only heard about the reputation of Wen Shu, but I despised the wise man in the bamboo forest.