Poetry about tourism

The grass outside Changzhou Garden is rustling, but it is a long journey. Just don't forget that this time, the autumn rain will cross the Maple Bridge.

Li Bai (Tang) made a fortune in Baidicheng.

Early in the morning, I bid farewell to Jiangling city, which is high into the sky, thousands of miles away, and the boat is only one day away. The cries of apes on both sides of the strait are still unconsciously crowing in their ears, and the canoe has passed the heavy green hills.