Seeing the hot summer, I can't help but sing a poem: Seeing the autumn when maple leaves are like fire, I can't help but sing a poem: Look.

Spring-you can easily recognize the east wind, it will always be spring in all colors.

Autumn-stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February.

The summer wheel can't freeze at noon, and all countries are like furnaces.

Winter-like the strong wind in spring, it blows at night and blows away the petals of ten thousand pear trees.

Please don't copy! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !