What are the poems about Xi Chun?

A piece of flying flowers reduces spring, and the wind is full of sorrow. But now I think of that night, that storm, I don't know how many flowers have been folded, the spring has not yet opened, the Sichuan Ring Road is difficult to be poor, the water has fallen in spring, and the world is a dream. Hualin thanked Chunhong and hurried away, but the cold rain came early and the wind came late. Since leaving, spring has passed halfway, and the scenery in my eyes has swept to a broken heart. The order of autumn may be like snow in the snow, brush it off and then flow down full. It is better to look at flowers than to wait for old branches. The sunset is lonely in the east, and the melancholy spring breeze is gone. One after another, the spring scenery is unique in the world, and the red is growing westward. If there are tears in the warbler's voice, the heart should love the evening water as the highest wet flower, and the spring hate will be due to the flower. Far grass for pity, see Qixia later. Emotionally, I cherish my years alone. Qin Xin was disappointed in him, and he went home alone. Flute by the river at sunset, flowers on the island of remnant spring. Honesty and sincerity are welcome, but what is Tao? Who's with Yin Gao? Looking at Jiuhua on a sunny day is a lonely flower in the world, helping the poor. You can't climb to see it when you are old, especially when you are old. Last night, it rained suddenly and the wind blew, so I slept soundly and didn't consume wine. Ask the shutter man, Haitang is still there. Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? It should be a lonely boudoir that is green, fat, red and thin, and one inch is tender. Cherish the spring to go, when to rush the rain. The wind will set the flowers deep, and there will be red snow outside the curtain. I remember for a long time that after begonia blooms, it is the season of hurting spring.