Ancient poems about flutes.

Outside the pavilion, beside the ancient road, the grass is blue. The evening breeze blows the flute, and the sunset is beyond the mountain.

Horizon, a corner of the sea, intimate friends are half scattered. A ladle of turbid wine makes me happy. Say goodbye to Meng Han tonight. (Li Shutong: "Goodbye")

The flute sounded in the reeds, and Bai Niao began to walk. Don't idle the fishing rod, think about water and clouds.

Yu Di's dark flying sound scattered into the spring breeze in Los Angeles. Who can't get homesick when they hear that there is another village in the serenade?

Chinese plum

Don Cui Daorong

At first, there was snow in the calyx, so it was difficult to draw a picture alone. There is rhyme in the fragrance, which is extremely cold.

Flute worries, oblique skill depends on disease. Against the wind, if solved, it is easy to destroy.

Chinese plum

Song Chen Liang

Thin and thin, small calyx pearl-shaped. When a flower blooms, a hundred flowers bloom and the garden is full of spring.

If you want to spread the message of spring, you are not afraid of snow burial. In di, take three fang, Dong Jun is advocated.

Chinese plum

Wang Yuan cotton

In March, the east wind blew away the snow, and the mountains in Hunan were green. No one sees Qiang Guan, and countless plum blossoms fall on the wild bridge.

Meihualuo

Xue mingxuan

There are double plums outside the eaves, and it was windy in front of the court last night. I don't know where to whistle, and I hit it.

Rome

Qingruran

The breeze and raindrops are covered with moss, and the fragrance of the desert is still audible. The forest is full of snow, and the ridge head flies like a cloud.

There is no need to blow the country across the pipe. The most precious thing is the cold branch. Looking back at the lonely mountain, there are many frost birds and butterflies.