Lyrics of Hu Yanbin's pen and ink on stage

Pen and ink

There is a gate pier outside the drum tower

I ride on it all day and lick the red fruit popsicle

Grandfather said you're OK

Why don't you come home and I'll teach you to write big characters

As soon as I enter the hospital, I can smell the ink of Yide Pavilion

There is a pair of gourds hidden among the vines on the porch

The rubbings of Wang Xizhi are piled up on the mahogany case

The pen holder of blue and white porcelain was made in Kangxi period

Uncle, soak a pot of Longjing and play a piece of huqin

Show a piece of Xuan paper on the case

The brass scale is bright

When the window lattice of the East Wing room penetrates into the setting sun

The ink fragrance of the first research

Take a shot and hold the palm of your hand

The strength is just right

Look at Yan Zhenqing's calligraphy. It's blown up by the wind

I write a word "small" with my wrist hanging high

Foreigners see that Chinese characters are blocks

I don't know that it's very elegant

Connecting the vertical and horizontal

Can't learn Chinese characters

A word "Fu" explodes in firecrackers

There is a word "Feng" in the rice barn

There's a word "Fa" on the wall of Kaizhang Daji shopkeeper

The word "Xi" in Dahong is that someone wants to marry a daughter-in-law

The lotus pond of Yinding bridge attracts a pair of dragonflies

I have no time to look around and focus on the red model

As the saying goes, the master leads the way

Mind should be calm, hands should be diligent, all depends on the individual

My grandfather's wrong handwriting

The ancients said that the character was like a person, and it was full of spirit

It is the charm of cursive writing that is unrestrained and meaningful

The head of silkworm and the tail of swallow contain the figure of official script

The running script should be completed at one time, and the rules should not be broken

Show a piece of Xuan paper on the case

The brass scale is bright

When the window lattice of the East Wing room penetrates into the setting sun

The ink fragrance of the first research

Take a shot and hold the palm of your hand

The strength is just right

Look at Yan Zhenqing's calligraphy. It's blown up by the wind

I write a word "small" with my wrist hanging high

Look at Yan Zhenqing's calligraphy. It's blown up by the wind

I write a word "small" with my wrist hanging high

Pen and ink