A poem describing a March morning in Yangchun

A butterfly in love with flowers

Song dynasty; surname

Ouyang Xiu

How deep is the yard?

The willow piles up smoke, but the curtain is not heavy.

Jade music carving saddle tour smelting place, the building is not high, look at Zhangtai Road.

March storm, closing at dusk, not planning to stay in spring.

Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing.

lily magnolia

Song dynasty; surname

Yan Shu

On the grassy old road, he seemed that the couple left me easily and set off.

The bell on the first floor struck the fifth watch, and the sadness in my heart was like being sprinkled in the spring rain in March.

Ruthless people understand the sufferings of affectionate people, and the melancholy of one inch of acacia has become thousands of strands.

Ultima Thule is still far from the end, only the mind is infinitely long, and there is no time.

See Meng Haoran again on the way to Yangzhou.

Author: Li Bai

Old friends frequently waved to me, bid farewell to the Yellow Crane Tower, and traveled to Yangzhou in this beautiful spring filled with catkins and flowers.

Sailing alone in the blue sky, I can see the Yangtze River flowing in the sky.