Poems about thunderstorms in spring

divination operator (played on the pillow during a thunderstorm on the night of February 26th)

Guo Yingxiang in Song Dynasty

There was a thunder at midnight, and it rained like hail. There is no residual red on the branches, and the dense leaves are all in a mess.

I hate books and dust, and just tied my leisure body. But I remember that when Mei Xiang was in spring and dusk, he could eat, drink and be merry everywhere.