There is a lot of silk in the sky above the avenue, which is as delicate and moist as butter. The grass is vaguely connected in the distance, but it looks sparse in the near future. The most beneficial thing is the spring of the year, which is better than the smoke willow of the emperor.
Butterflies are dancing all the time, and charming songbirds just crow.
Summer: The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers reflect different colors in the sun.
Xiao-he just showed his sharp corner, and the dragonfly had already stood on it.
It rains at home in Huangmei season, and frogs come to the grass pond.
Autumn: Clouds are scattered by cranes in the clear sky, bringing poetry to Bixiao.
Chijingqiu Pavilion, the drizzle is cool.
It's already late autumn on the high platform, and I feel sad when I look straight at it. The situation returns to the wind, and the string is broken.
Winter: Like the strong wind in spring, it blows at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees.
There are some plums in the corner, and cold ling opens them alone. It's not snow in the distance, because there's a smell coming.
A poem about spring:
Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night.
Don du fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.
Wild trails and clouds are all black, and rivers and boats are bright.
Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
The Willow
Tang He Zhang Zhi
Jasper is dressed up as a tree with 10,000 green silk tapestries.
I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors.
Peach blossom in Dalinsi
Tang Bai Juyi
In April, the beauty of the world is exhausted, and the peach blossoms in the mountain temple are blooming.
I have long hated that spring is nowhere to be found and I don't know where to go.
Spring outing in Qiantang River
Tang Bai Juyi
Gushan Temple is in the north of Jiating West, and the water level is low.
Several early warblers compete for warm trees, and their new swallows peck at the soil in spring.
Flowers are more and more attractive, and shallow grass can be without horseshoes.
I love the lack of eastward travel of the lake and the white sand embankment under the shade of green trees.
Dawn of spring
Tang Meng Hao ran
In the spring morning, I woke up easily, and birds were singing everywhere.
But now I think of that night, that storm, I don't know how many flowers I folded.
Poems about summer:
Summer night sigh
Don du fu
The sun never sets, and inflammation is poisoning my intestines.
Andrew Wan Lifeng, the wind is blowing on my skirt.
Kazuki Watanabe musicians are born in the sky, but the forest is sparse.
The bitter night in midsummer is short, and the entrance is cool.
When you see something missing, feathers will fly.
Things have no details and are adaptive.
Miss Pigos, and keep the border in poor years.
Why are you washing and looking at each other?
Unexpectedly, Diao Dou was hit at night, and the noise was even louder.
Although the purple is covered, it is better to return to China early.
The north city is sad and the stork flies.
Quiet environment makes you tired, and nervous thinking makes you healthy.
The first summer
Tang Bai Juyi
Xia Meng is full of things, and planting is good for a period of time.
Elk likes the deep forest, while insects and snakes like grass.
Hunan birds love dense leaves, and scales swim to welcome new algae.
Heaven and earth disappear, I wither alone.
After all, all flesh and blood are far away.
There is no one in the old country, and Kou is magnificent.
It's no use worrying. Embrace yourself.
Let go of your body and mind and let nature make you.
More wine in Xunyang can keep the cup dry.
Fish is as cheap as mud, and moxibustion is never too early.
Go to the temple in Fanshan Mountain and get drunk on an island in the lake at dusk.
Why go back to your hometown? How could you die?
Summer village's Miscellaneous Notes (I)
Fan Song Chengda
Plum golden apricot fat, wheat white, cauliflower thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying.
cuvette
Song Yang Wanli
Spring eyes are silent and pity the trickle, and the shade of trees loves sunny and soft water.
Xiao-he just showed his sharp corner, and the dragonfly had already stood on it.
Chu Xiao Jingci Temple saw Lin Zifang off.
Song Yang Wanli
After all, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock in June.
The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers are of different colors.
Poems about autumn:
Midnight Qiu Ge
Tang Libai
A moon hangs over the capital, and 10,000 washing hammers are beating.
Autumn wind blows my heart, forever blowing to Yumen Pass.
Oh, when will the Tatar army be conquered and when will my husband come back from the long battle! .
Qiudeng Xuancheng Xie Tiao North Building
Tang Libai
In the picturesque river, the mountains and rivers are beautiful and the sky is clear.
The rain caught the mirror and the rainbow fell on the double bridge.
People are cold orange pomelo and autumn old phoenix tree.
Who will go to the north building, worship the wind.
Autumn serenade
Don
Guipo was born with autumn dew, but Luo was so thin that he never changed his clothes.
Andrew worked hard all night, but she was afraid to leave the room and couldn't bear to go home.
Autumn night
Dondum
Qiu Guang drew a cold screen with a silver candle and waved a small fan at the firefly.
Day and night are as cool as water. Sit and watch the morning glory and Vega.
Climb the balcony
Don du fu
In the sharp wind from the vast sky, apes are sobbing, and birds fly home on the clear lake and white beach.
Leaves fall like a waterfall, while I watch the long river roll forward.
I came from three thousand miles away. With the sadness of autumn, with my sorrow of a hundred years, I climbed this height alone.
Bad luck has formed a bitter frost on my temples, and heartache and fatigue are a thick dust in my wine.
Poems about winter:
Jiang Xue.
Liutang Zongyuan
Hundreds of mountains have no birds, and thousands of paths have no footprints.
A boat, a bamboo cloak, an old man fishing in the cold Jiang Xue.
Biedongda
Don
Thousands of miles away in Huang Yun, the sun is shining, and the north wind is blowing snow.
Mochow has no confidant in the road ahead, and everyone knows you.
Yongmei.
Wang Song Anshi
There are some plums in the corner, and hanling opens them alone.
It's not snow from afar, only the fragrance comes.
Xue Mei
Song Lu meipo
For the sake of spring, Xue Mei refused to surrender, and the poet put down his manuscript fee to comment on this chapter.
The snow in Mei Xu Xun is three points white, but the snow has lost a piece of Mei Xiang.
Winter pastoral scenery
Fan Song Chengda
Let the boat idle to watch the snow-capped mountains clear, and the wind will freeze to the bone and freeze late.
Sitting and listening to a drop of pearl jade, I don't know that the lake has become ice.