Poems about spring in modern prose 1. Modern poems or prose poems about spring
The small forest in the city has turned green. The humble life of ants and flying insects in my small forest came under the soil with spring. I heard the sound of earthworms crawling and knocked down the closed door of the soil with their soft heads. On the grass in the grove, I saw a group of goats waving their long beards and bleating a black goat, which shocked my youth and soul. Walking leisurely towards me, my face was full of happy tears, which opened the door of spring. I hear birds chirping in the city, and some birds in spring. They dare not go into the city, so they can only cheer outside the school. They are as simple as farmers in rural areas, and they have given me a sense of closeness. They are my friends. They seem to be relatives I met by chance. They are looking for unknown bugs and making friendly sounds to their peers outside school. I fell in love with the sound of birds. I pushed open the door of spring in the contention of birds. This spring, my heart is in a mess. I think of some tombstones for a while and my childhood for a while. This spring, my heart is in a mess. Spring poems have been filled with spring poems, which are the grass leaves and crowns of spring. What else can I do this spring? Who can I embrace spring and time with? The sun awakens the sleeping Northern Lights feathers and reflects pigeons. The wings of the sheep can no longer resist the long-accumulated impulse. The river of seasons is helpless. The road of time is full of bridges of desire. The ice wall cracked and weathered. In an instant, the fish jumped out of the sea of pain. There is a free ship flying in the universe. No one can stop the pace of thought. Springs always spring up under heavy pressure. There is a voice calling the names of ancestors.
2. Articles about spring, modern poems, famous sayings and aphorisms
Modern Poetry] Forget spring, the wind is singing softly in a dream in the empty courtyard on a spring night. Some people have gone far, and some people have returned to their hometown. If there is moonlight on my pillow, I won't sleep tonight, because I still have her beautiful image dancing in my heart. Every time I look up at the blue sky, the clouds will float to where they once fell. Every time I hug the night star, I want to shed a few tears in the lamp, but I am afraid that the tears will reflect yesterday's heartbreak and leave the warm and soft bed, but I don't know who spring is waiting for. You are thinking about love in spring, frost in autumn and everything is sweet under the bright window. Beautiful flowers, I once cried and laughed secretly on the way to wake up from my dream, and slowly forgot my heart in the face of the missed candlelight or lonely hope in spring. First of all, the small forest in the city turned green, and the humble lives of ants and flying insects in my small forest came under the soil with spring. I heard the sound of earthworms crawling and knocked down the closed door of the soil with their soft heads. On the grass in the grove, I saw a group of goats waving their long beards. Baa baa, a black goat that shocked my youth and soul, came to me with tears of happiness. Pushing open the door of spring, I hear birds chirping in the city. A few spring birds are afraid to enter the city, but they are cheering outside the school gate. They are as simple as farmers in rural areas, which makes me feel close. They are my friends, as if they were relatives I happened to meet. They are looking for unknown insects and making friendly sounds to their peers outside school. I fell in love with the sound of birds. In the contention of birds, I pushed open the door of spring. This spring, this spring, my heart is in a mess. I think of some tombstones for a while and my childhood for a while. This spring, my heart is in a mess. My spring poems have been filled with spring flowers and crowns. What else can I do this spring? Who else can I embrace spring and time with? Rain through my chest? A sound dripped from a high place, like a shawl of Rapunzel. The black waterfall grasped the time tightly, so I became a dizzy elf in the endless rain curtain. I can't tell who is the real irresistible desire. That drop of rain is flying in the sky, slowly floating in the sky, accumulating strength. The unadorned clouds crept into my broad chest, so the waves in my chest stirred ripples and beat on the emotional shore. Waves of breathing and drops of rain moisten each other, so the drops of rain go deep into my heart and mix with my thoughts, and then wash everything through the narrow space in my heart, and a ray of sunshine flies through time. Arriving in my clear sky on February 23rd, 2004, "Looking at a Snow in Spring" boarded the train bound for spring with the sharp blade of the season, ruthlessly scraped away the restless buds, let the cracked hands in winter stretch out and held the banner of hunting a snow in spring. As long as you set foot on the equator in spring, a snow is precious. Chun Xue's dialogue flows freely in six directions, giving instructions and sending out wet messages. This is a sudden cold in late spring. Grab everyone's love. Look up. The contact between heaven and earth is fierce, walking down the slope of the season. Head-on is waiting for "stepping into the threshold of spring" on February 3, 2004. The last snow and treetops outside the window look at life. The mist sprayed by the branches hung low and sighed, dripping in the longing for spring. A bud quietly arched out of the frozen soil and knocked at the door of the earth. Free-roaming sparrows squeaked into the cracked trunk and enjoyed the lightness of love outside. During the kite-flying season, the boat reached the territory of spring lyrically, and the road was still muddy. Occasionally pedestrians turn up their collars to keep out the cold, but the spring door is sunny. On February 5, 2004, I didn't make an appointment with a kite and flew my son to a mountain top in the suburbs. I am so excited that a floating leaf is flying in the distance like a saw. I came to my wife, lay down and kissed the warm Achnatherum splendens. I was sad all afternoon. He was swept away from the bag on March 9, 2004. Think of an old buffalo gnawing a lawn full of wild flowers among buildings, and then barking like a shepherd boy in Cleisthenes, spraying beads on the hooves of cattle to wake up the ears of spring by the river. Next to it are wild seedlings in spring and dense leaves on the ridge of the field. Imagine, not long ago, this old buffalo was ruminating and muttering, pushing the process of the season. Turn the colors over one by one, throw the cool classical figure obliquely in the mud waves, and urge the plowshare and the old farmer to carry it. 2004-03-09 Who Hunted the Feathers of Spring, the last feather picking season, after experiencing great vitality, hid in the deep spring. Under the wings of the day, a feather serenades safely and gracefully against the wind and gently licks the sails sailing in the sea of four seasons. Who is the person in love after harvesting love? My pet has his back to hope. Once romantic passion, in the space of steaming clouds in spring, quietly swam a drop of clear tears. Seeing the dying light on the night of January is bathed in grinding clouds. Driving beautiful feathers in the fiery journey of the sea and sky, crossing the smoke lock, and then holding the pious prayer flags to the distance with silent promises. Who is looking for the feathers of spring, but can't find the soaring sky to collect the feathers of emotional branches? In the spring afternoon, there may be a lot of things that will be boring to lean against the windowsill and look at the distant sky. The crowded downstairs is crowded with pedestrians in a hurry. They all looked serious and witnessed the individual actions of others. On the one hand, the clear sky with lyrical pigeon feathers and whistle glides unscrupulously between kites and breezes. A vigorous shadow moves, only chooses irregular strokes and traces of thinking, stands up pigeons, spreads its feathers and goes to the distant bridge to wait for a pile of the best. It's a long-lost sunshine running over and hugging. On the weekend of February 2, 2004, the car trudged wearily from the noise to the target. There is silence in the boiling Yuan Ye. In the spring when rape blossoms are in full bloom, a group of bees go down to the depths of the season as masters, lie smartly in the stamens, watch the wind dance from the gap between the petals, breathe out the depression in their chests, and stop to comfort them on the way. Outside the window, an apricot came out playfully through the wall along the opened curtain, and the thick aroma was mixed with it.
3. Prose or poetry about spring is modern.
Hidden sadness 1 grade 2008-04- 18 Spring Sleep is carefully drying clothes, the stars cough, and the swallow flies back to the eaves to spread the news of her arrival. Kittens lined up neatly, trimmed their crooked nails, and dogs turned the pot to shake off the thick flowers. She swims faster than a jellyfish. She landed on the windowsill and looked taller than the short moon. As long as she blows quietly, she will be wet and dripping with spring. The song of the sky, Cui, floats on the branches and shines among the flowers. Spring sings in the wings of swallows and dances in the whistle of pigeons. Spring turns the western hills green. Spring gives Changhe a bunch of laughter. Spring brings boiling sounds to the fields. Spring gives the ancient city beautiful and charming spring thunder. Running and crying in the spring breeze. Songs are broadcast in spring rain. Spring tides are like rough waves. Every cell of a person is dyed green. A bird of hope quietly nests in the hearts of Beijingers. Xiaoxiao: About Spring (Modern Poetry) Spring Dream/I like to call my spring dream Spring Dream. I tried my best to dream about you, but it was always in vain. I like to turn my pillow upside down when I wake up. I heard that this will make my dream come true. In this dreamlike spring, I can't sleep alone.
4. Modern poetry describing spring
Modern rhyming poems, campus works, with references.
Enjoy the scenery of spring.
March is sunny and a little cold.
When the swallow flies, the wind turns around, but it doesn't indicate the direction.
The kite flies, hiding the desire to bathe in the blue sky before it breaks.
The green water is rippling, trying to restore the natural appearance of the past.
The grass is green and far-fetched.
Early spring is irresistible like a girl, which opens the spring scenery in Jiangnan.
Liu Qingwu, what a handsome leader.
Wan Fang spat, who can match the fragrance of magnolia?
Lonely, Xiaoshi just wants to listen to the sound of running water under the broken bridge.
The vision set sail, and the oriole stood upright. Do you want to sing softly?
Zi Gui's tears of blood shocked the audience.
Speak loudly, friends cherish time, please don't do this.
Boating on the lake, anglers wait for the fish to bite.
The landscape in the painting, the sketch artist tried to collect the beautiful scenery of Jiangnan together.
I'm in a hurry. I'll get used to enjoying it in the pictures after I miss the time.
Pairs of people, the promenade on the dam is lonely and long.
Every spring, the original throbbing heart is no longer crazy.
I hope you are well, think about the beauty under the beautiful scenery, and return again and again.
5. Modern poems about spring
1, Wu Zhijing's A Letter to Spring-Spring in Spring.
I've been longing for it for a long time, but are you too late to reply?
If you fall in love, I will wait!
If you come late, I will become a river boat.
If you come with the wind, the flowers will meet each other.
In spring, there are trees on the mountain and crops in the field.
Spring, spring, I am waiting for you on the earth.
Spring, spring, love you forever and never change.
Spring, spring, I have been longing for it for a long time, but your reply came late.
Spring, spring, if you fall in love, I will wait for you.
Spring spring, if you come late, I will be old.
Spring, spring, has been very smooth, Feifei is also very satisfied.
Spring, spring, where are you? Everyone is looking for you.
Spring, spring, you send a breeze, I put on green clothes.
Spring, spring, I have a way to entertain guests, why can't I refuse?
Spring, spring, a long wait between buildings, a love that consumes everything.
Spring spring, if you are happy, you will see fragrance.
Spring, spring, the wind has gone, and the world is amazed.
Spring, spring, you come with the wind and flowers meet.
Spring, spring, rain knew you were coming, and you came uninvited.
Spring, spring, love, return to Hong's home.
2, "More Spring than Spring" Author: Lai Yanggang
More spring than spring,
Only fists, big and small,
Fix the elegance of the wind on the branches.
Birds sing with pink, which is more spring than spring.
You become more and more like a butterfly,
I have more and more flowers, and the running water spreads its wings.
Every time I fly, it smells good.
Every silence,
They are all ringing.
It is more spring than spring, that is, a mother can put her illness,
As a container for wine or tea.
My father regards fatigue as a knife,
On the bone, remove the fish.
Four-legged snake, frog,
Sighing also brings spring rain, and stretching will complete the crops.
My lame grandfather,
I can't wait to throw away my crutches and kick shuttlecock on the grass.
Drop the moon with one foot, kick it,
Sunrise.
3, "Spring, Spring" Author: Yan Chixia
In spring, people who once wrote poems,
Embarked on a different path.
I often go there in my dreams,
One lonely scene after another,
A feast of poetry.
In the coming days,
At the end of the song,
Who is the piano still ringing for?
I brought my own poem,
There's dust on my back,
I trudged through the mud,
The dream in your eyes.
I did all this thousands of miles away,
That place called Xiqin,
Dai Yue brought it.
Now, the wind is blowing on Xiangtou Mountain.
Lingnan spring scenery is infinite,
At this moment, how I want to,
End wandering and live a happy life.
At this moment, how I want to,
Give up daydreaming and work hard.
Put away the pen and paper for writing poetry,
Into the sea,
Love the military camp and the motherland.
4, "The Story of Spring" Author: Meng Xu
Spring is really beautiful,
The sun shines brightly in spring.
In spring, the willows turn green and everything recovers.
The dream of spring begins the story of spring.
The sea of flowers in full bloom of love,
Passion burns the light of life.
The spring full of lofty sentiments promotes the development of the cause.
The story of spring has infinite power of love.
All smiles and smiles are successful,
Rivers in Tao Tao push the waves forward.
Standing at the bow and waving to the spring in the east,
Spring story, spring smile,
Spring sunshine shines on the earth, it is red and bright!
5, "I love spring" Author: misty rain.
If I were a bird,
I want to use a soft and loud throat
Singing spring on the lawn;
But I can't-I love spring!
If I were a river,
I want to use clear and bright body fluids.
Wet spring in the field;
But I can't-I love spring!
If I were a white cloud,
I want to use a white and flawless body
Polish spring in the sky;
But I can't-I love spring!
If I were a wave,
I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
Awaken the spring under the sea;
But I can't-I love spring!
6. Prose and poetry about modern spring
spring
The wind turned green.
The rain turned green.
Wake up in spring
Throw yourself into our arms
A newly awakened stream.
I haven't cleared my throat yet
Just play those crunchy songs
Scatter all over the floor
The fruit tree that just woke up
I haven't paid attention to growing leaves yet
It exploded.
The dazzling brilliance of clouds
Swallows are very busy in spring.
She is whispering.
While using shiny scissors
Carefully tailored new clothes for spring.
Spring, though sometimes.
It will still make you feel a little cold.
Spring can be impatient.
After all, turning a depressed winter
Arouse gray memories ...
7. Modern Poetry about Spring
Case Study of Zhu Ziqing's "Drizzle" —— The drizzle of modern poetry is in the east wind, passing my face, and the drizzle of stars is the fluff of spring.
Spring issue, huh? Who awakened the grass? It turns out that Miss Chun is scratching the grass! Who is playing with fish? It turns out that Miss Chun is playing with the fish. Whenever spring comes, spring girls will play with us and grow together ... whenever spring comes, it is our happiest moment.
Miss Chun, can you stay? Spend a golden childhood with us! In a blink of an eye, the severe winter passed and spring quietly came to the world. Spring is a beautiful season and a poetic season; Spring means a vibrant beginning.
Since ancient times, poets have loved and praised spring because of its pleasant scenery. Strolling through the garden of ancient poetry and poetry, I can see the colorful poems of Wing Chun, which is dizzying. Just pick a few, take your time, and you will be intoxicated before you know it.
"A night of light thunder, frivolous tile uneven. Affectionate peony contains spring tears and is unable to lie on the branches of roses. "
This is "Spring Day" by Qin Guan, a poet in the Northern Song Dynasty. This poem is about spring scenery after rain.
You see, the courtyard after the rain, the thin cage of morning fog, the crystal blue tiles, the beautiful spring; Peony flowers bring rain and tears, affectionate and leisurely, roses are quiet and charming. There are close-up and distant views, dynamic and static, affectionate and graceful, and can be touched at will, uneven.
The whole poem is dense and vivid, with a fresh and graceful charm, which is very popular. "There are songbirds in the court trees, and red and green help spring to go to the distant forest.
Suddenly there are good poems, and the arrangement syntax is hard to find. "This is the Song Dynasty poet Chen's Spring Day.
This poem describes the scene of a spring morning. Ears are full of birds, eyes are full of green branches, green and red help each other, and the fragrance is attractive.
With a few strokes of the poet, a picture of spring is presented to the readers. Then, the poet simply stopped writing, stopped describing spring scenery and turned to lyricism. Spring is full of inspiration, but the mysterious poet uses the evasive word "hard to find" to induce readers to feel spring. This method of combining reality with reality leaves readers with great imagination.
"Far eyes go with the day, and the setting sun shines on the tree. Dogs know where to bark. People walk halfway up the mountain. "
This is "Spring Day" by Yang Wanli, a poet in the Southern Song Dynasty. This poem is about a scene of the Spring Festival Evening.
Sunset covers trees, green land meets the sky, dogs bark happily, and people come home late. This poem is naturally appropriate and ingenious. It brings readers into a panoramic atmosphere of spring, with its beauty, gorgeous color, rich flavor and harmonious sound. During this period, people will open their hearts and sing heartily.
"Spring water newborn milk swallow, wasp small tail flapping flowers. The window contains a distant book, and the fish holds a fragrant hook near the rocky mountain. "
This is the South Garden written by Li He, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. The spring in Nanyuan is full of vitality and interest.
Water is born in spring, milk swallows, bees pick flowers to make honey, and fish hold hooks to feed. These are all scenery with spring characteristics, and the foreground goes straight into the study through the window, which makes people feel comfortable and happy. This poem is vivid, fresh and elegant, and it is refreshing to read.
"Old trees cover short eaves, and the staff helps me cross the bridge east. The clothes are wet with apricot flowers and rain, and the blowing surface is not cold. "
This is a quatrain written by Zhi Nan, a monk in the Southern Song Dynasty. This is a quatrain describing a spring outing.
The beautiful spring scenery aroused the wandering of monks, so I went out of the temple to see the spring scenery. Traveling by a small tent boat, the boat is moored under an old tree and strolls on the east side of Chenopodium Bridge.
Although it is straightforward, the ship is anchored in the shade of ancient trees. This painting is very elegant and simple, quite like an ancient literati painting in China. The last two sentences accurately and concisely show the beautiful and pleasant scenes of apricot blossom, light rain, willow dancing and warm east wind in spring, and are famous sentences that have been passed down through the ages.
This poem is integrated with scenery, things and heart. The poet grasped the characteristics of Spring Breeze and Spring Rain and slightly exaggerated them, thus revealing his inner joy and love for nature. "The grass grows in February and the willows are drunk with spring smoke.
The children came back from school early, so they were busy flying kites in the east wind. "This is the Qing Dynasty poet Gao Ding's" Village Residence ".
The first sentence and the second sentence vividly describe the nature in spring and write the beautiful and charming scenery unique to the countryside in spring. In February, the spring is bright, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willow tips brush the shore, as if intoxicated in the beautiful spring. The third and fourth sentences describe a vivid scene of a group of lively children flying kites in beautiful spring. Their laughter makes spring more energetic.
This poem is clear and clear, and it is practiced with words. The whole poem is filled with cheerful emotions, giving readers a beautiful emotional infection.
"Yinyingxi is curved and green, and the light rain has flattened on the shallow beach. Goose and duck don't know where spring is going, and compete with water for peach blossoms. "
This is "Spring Day" by Chao Chongzhi, a poet in the Song Dynasty. This is a poem about cherishing spring.
The whole poem has four sentences and four views, the streams are clear and clean, the drizzle turns over the ping, the geese and ducks play, and the peach blossoms chase the water. The picture is very vivid and vivid, which makes people feel relaxed and fascinated. The poet expressed his feelings with the sight of geese and ducks "riding peach blossoms" Spring is gone, but geese and ducks don't know it. They are happy to chase and carefree, but people are different. Although the fallen flowers can be chased, time cannot be returned. The poet's love for spring cannot be expressed in words. Spring and spring call people green with her warm spring breeze.
The grass grows long and the warblers fly, drawing a rich and colorful stroke for the beautiful Weifang and adding vitality to the spring. Children flying kites are full of hope. They planted a seed on the land and looked forward to it. Finally, the seeds germinated, and a beautiful and gorgeous flower opened the most beautiful flower in spring. That's the flower of hope. That's flower of life. Look, this is the beautiful spring. Let's sow a seed now, let it blossom a flower of hope, the most beautiful flower in this spring, and your own flower of hope.
8. Poetry and prose about spring
Poetry: "Looking at a Snow in Spring" boarded the train bound for spring with the sharp sword of the season, ruthlessly scraped off the restless buds, let the cracked hands in winter stretch out and chase a snow in spring with the banner of hunting. As long as you set foot on the equator in spring, a snow is precious. Chun Xue's dialogue will flow freely in six directions, sending out instructions and sending out wet messages. Actually, Chun Xue. A snow has nothing to do with it, but it is a sudden cold spring. Grab everyone's love and look up. The contact between heaven and earth is fierce, and it goes down the slope of the season. Waiting for the old man's gift. You turn the east wind into branches and let the birds fly happily to the blue sky. You brought the grass to vilen, making all flowers smile.
You brought sunshine to the valley. Turn snow into spring water; You bring the drizzle to the fields and let the seeds smell the earth.
You bring us spring, this precious gift is better than gold; You give each of us a wonderful time of the year in the same way. Three hundred and sixty-five days, no one is too many, and no one is too few; It's up to us.-Can we arrange your best?
Lazy people wander around all day, and you slip away from them quietly; He left a lot of unfinished business behind him. A confused person, absent-minded all day, has no idea that you have gone far; When people want to chase you, he always shakes his head and says it's still early.
We are not lazy or confused, and none of the young pioneers will fall behind. Because we know that once you leave, you will never look back. Piles of building materials on the construction site suddenly turned into factories and tall buildings; Crossing rivers and tunnels, the new railway is moving forward every day.
In every inch of the motherland, everyone is holding on to you and refusing to relax; Only those who waste time will blush again and again. Believe me, old man, we won't waste a minute; When you tear up a calendar every night, can you hand in a blank sheet of paper to your motherland? I will study harder this year, and I will rely on my ability for the four modernizations. Even if you keep a cow, you can't do without scientific knowledge.
This year, I want to make my body stronger and prepare to go down to drill coal seams in the future; A future worker, will he often get sick? Time old man, please have a look, what a wonderful gift you gave us! The beautiful spring scenery is endless, and the mountains and rivers of the motherland are smiling everywhere! Rhythm of Spring-Poetry Spring is coming slowly, and cool and gentle flowers are blooming with bright red cheeks and smiling. The grass is covered with a green dress. One is the blue waves on the Yuan leaf, wandering on the spring road-with endless tender words in spring, one after another, with the vibration of the huifeng, touching the heartstrings, one after another, ancient songs attracted the laughter of children ... the footsteps of early spring. Reservation is a bud of a branch, a bud of a flower bed, the crisp cry of an old swallow rejuvenating, and the thin mud on people's soles. The light blue breeze flows through your fingers, the soft rain falls from your head ... and the little spring rain dances. The soft, transparent and harmonious sky of spring rain is woven into a transparent cloth with this needle-like thing. The rain falls on the river and expands in a circle. Spread out-add the breath of spring, the gurgling trickle rolls the fragrance of waves and petals, and the green of Ye Er rushes forward happily. Green spring water rippled comfortably with the wind-sometimes a few thirsty swallows swooped down-sipped a few mouthfuls of cool river water and flew high into the sky as if spring water was a part of spring, and I could use it to wash my mind. Even if I dream, I will recall the sound of spring water. I know something about spring. I'm still superficial about spring. Let it be. Shallow. I don't want to know the hidden meaning of spring. Let me keep a vague impression of spring. I sat alone. I sat alone. Summer dies in a smile; I watched it leave, I watched it disappear from the misty hills and windless grass; Thought is in my soul, generate, and my heart succumbs to its power; Tears welled up in my eyes because I couldn't express my feelings clearly. At that sacred and undisturbed moment, serious happiness around me slipped in. I asked myself, "Oh, why didn't God give me that precious gift? That glorious gift gave many people to express their thoughts in poetry! " ""those dreams surround me, "I said," from the happy time of carefree childhood; Since life is still in its heyday, fanatical whimsy has provided hallucinations. "
Now, however, when I want to sing, my finger touches a silent string; The chorus of the lyrics is still "Don't struggle any more; Everything is in vain. " Poetry in spring is still a window of the past day, which can't be torn off. It is still waving quietly in the cold. Maybe it's really far. I did not wake you. On the other side of the mountain, you gather the wind and the moon, so that all your eyes are plugged in. She walked past your branches quietly. You stamped your feet and ran all over the city with your face flushed. I remembered the song edited by Xiaocao, calling your name loudly. The river is crying, watching you dress up along the bank of the willow tree and watching your charm. The wisps of smoke I spilled for you. You don't want to drink to the party in the rain. I rolled up my ankles and cleaned up those sharp fragments bit by bit. I looked at you and giggled. You talked about nails on the wall, love in the oven and fables of snow. I'm still giggling. She turned off the music and gently raised "spring dance Prose": Chun Xue, these days, catkins began to float, like poplars, furry and floating in the air. Spring is their season.
Walking on the road, catkins are the color of grass, but they are softer than grass. It fell on us without feeling. It attaches its elegance to the spring dance, and its dance is a rotating dance with the wind as the melody, which entangles our thoughts in the circle. The green color in spring is getting deeper and deeper, and together with Yang Shuhua, it fades evenly.
The tree outside the window, we can't see whether there are catkins staying at the treetops, only know that the color is still so soft, like the satin of sunshine, falling from the sky, only mixed with a few rays of green. Catkin often gives romantic people wonderful inspiration, but they can't see the words and poems written with it.