In February, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willows are drunk with spring smoke. -From Gao Ding's "Village Residence" in the Qing Dynasty: In February, the grass grows long and the willows on the embankment are drunk with spring smoke. The children came back from school early, so they were busy flying kites in the east wind. In February of the lunar calendar, the grass gradually germinates and grows, the orioles fly around, and the willows gently brushing the shore are intoxicated by the spring fog. The children in the village came home from school early, and quickly flew kites in the blue sky in the east wind.
Why use the elegy of willow to complain about the delay of spring, old Yumenguan, a spring breeze is not blowing! -Wang Zhihuan's two Liangzhou Ci poems in the Tang Dynasty Original: The Yellow River is far above the white clouds, an isolated city and Wan Ren Mountain. Why use the elegy of willow to complain about the delay of spring, old Yumenguan, a spring breeze is not blowing! The Yellow River seems to rush out from the white clouds, and Yumenguan is hanging alone in the mountains. Why do you want to complain about the late arrival of spring by playing the plaintive "Yangliuqiu" with Qiangdi? It turns out that the spring breeze around Yumenguan can't blow!
In late spring, Chang 'an city is full of songs and dances, and countless flowers fall. The east wind of the Cold Food Festival blows on the willow trees in the royal garden. -From Han Yi's Cold Food in the Tang Dynasty. Original: Spring city is full of flowers, cold food Dongfeng willow. As night fell, the palace was busy lighting candles, and smoke drifted to the house of the prince and the marquis. In Chang 'an in late spring, catkins are flying all over the sky, and there are countless red flowers. Cold food festival, the east wind blows the willow in the imperial city. In the evening, the Han Palace sent candles to the princes and ministers, and the light smoke drifted to the emperor's favorite home.
Ruthlessness is a willow in Taicheng, but it is still a smoke cage. -from Wei Zhuang's Taicheng in the Tang Dynasty. The rain is falling, the grass is falling, and the birds of the Six Dynasties are crying. Ruthlessness is a willow in Taicheng, but it is still a smoke cage. The river is misty and rainy, the river is covered with green grass, and the past of the Six Dynasties is like a dream, leaving only the sad cry of spring birds. The most heartless thing is that the willows in Taicheng are still hanging on the Shili dike like light smoke.