What are some wonderful poems drawn from nature?

All I know is: the clouds should look good in clothes and flowers, and the spring breeze blows the threshold to show wealth. The spring scenery of Jinjiang flooded in, and the clouds on the mountain, ancient, varied and changeable. A breeze blew her cloak and fluttered with her movements, as if she were dancing with a rainbow skirt and feather coat. Sunset, infinitely beautiful, only near dusk. Never mind the flowers, even this bright flame of love, is it only ashes? . Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night. By going up one flight of stairs, seeing thousands of miles away, when flowers should be folded, we should fold them quickly, instead of waiting for the flowers to fade, there is only a broken branch. The long grass is so lush that the withered grass will thicken the color of the grass every autumn and winter. Wildfire can't burn it out, but the spring breeze can revive it.