碧汉骄阳入百城，鸣蝉野外亮其声。

桂花树上出新作，杨柳枝头吟旧情。

风暖汗颜黄幔帐，影低回首半月明。

高频唱颂庭前月，物静诗章已自成。

In the scorching sun of Bihan, cicadas sing in the wild make their voices heard.

A new work is made on the osmanthus tree, and the old love is recited on the head of the poplar and willow branches.

The wind is warm, the sweat is yellow, the shadow is low, looking back on the half moon.

Sing high-frequency praises to the moon in front of the court, and the static poetry has become its own.