The poems about the sprouting of new buds with beautiful meanings include:
(Song 1) When I saw the new buds blooming, they saw the shadows of mountain peaches and plums slanting across the sky. Teachers sing about the morning dew, and students sing about the sunset. Thousands of willows hang down like jade, and a poem is written about the beautiful years. The beauty of Dendrobium is due to who is green, thanks to the spring breeze blowing in my home.
(Second song) The gentle breeze and drizzle warm the ducklings, and the willows are turning yellow and ready to sprout. Purple swallows hold mud in their mouths to keep visitors from far away, and poets and friends write ink poems about peach blossoms. Thousands of divine roads lead to secluded places, and thousands of auspicious clouds bathe in colorful clouds. It’s too late to chase the deer and the wind, drink a pot of tea leisurely.
(Song 3) I am passionate on the road in spring, walking in the mountains and rivers full of grass. Thin willow, goose yellow, slender shadow, poplar brown purple light eyebrows. The magpies on the branches sing that spring is good, and the apricot blossoms are blooming all over the tree. Intoxicated by the east wind, the picture scroll is spread, and all things sprout and make up.
(Song 4) The spring sun breeds and the morning breeze blows. I like to see new buds blooming and old branches blooming. The tender green clothes add charm, and the goose-yellow feathers show their beauty. The hard-working rice sows seeds again, and the childish children grow wise again. It is necessary to plan early for the flowers to bloom in a year, but it is most late to regret the empty branches.
(Song 5) Endure the severe winter without feeling sad, and the yellow buds herald the return of spring one after another. The branches are still and the wind is singing, and the leaves are lush and the rain is playing matchmaker. Over the years, the roots have been deeply rooted in the fertile soil, and one day the sun is warm and joyful, and the thunder is thunderous. Why compete with hundreds of flowers for their beauty, and the independent green hills are trembling with green.