At sunrise, the river is redder than the fire, and the river is as green as the blue of spring.
There's a village where there's no road.
The shadows are shallow and the dusk is fragrant.
I have been dating seagulls in the water since I went to Liang.
A folding castle peak, a screen, a bay of clear water and a piano.
A stream of green water is spring rain, and the green hills on both sides are half sunset.
Thinking quietly at the bottom of the river alone, the moonlight is like water.
At first glance, the territory is three miles flat, and the sky is white and green.
After the rain, the castle peak cries azaleas, and the pond is full of Liufei cotton;
Prosperity scatters incense dust, and running water gives birth to grass and spring.
Peach blossoms outside the bamboo are three or two, and the spring water warms the duck prophet.
I feel that the business is full and the east wind blows water and the green is uneven.
The tender water in the spring stream is clear and slag-free, and the fine grass in the spring continent is flawless.
There are two or three flowers across the stream in spring and four or five families near the water tower.
The flowing water is full of love and shadow, and the spring breeze is colorless and the most charming.
An egret flies over the quiet swamp, and mango birds sing in the trees in midsummer.
There are traces of duckweed on the shore of Qutong village in the west of Qiaoxi.
Sometimes it snows when the water is full, and frogs are everywhere when the grass is deep.
The moonlight is as cool as water, lying watching morning glory and Vega.