Beishan lost its green and rose to the horizontal pool, and went straight to the pool.
Counting the fallen flowers because I have been sitting for a long time, I found that the grass is already late. (Wang Anshi's "Beishan")
Morning fog is baking in the blue sky, and the west bank of Hengtang spans the east of the city.
Pedestrians smell of rice flowers and stay in the leaves of herons.
Believe in your own feet, you can know the old road, and you can recognize your neighbors when you are shocked.
At that time, I planted a willow bridge and countless flowers swept away. (Fan Dacheng's "First Return to Shihu")
There are many more.