The lotus leaves touching the sky are infinitely green, and the lotus flowers reflecting the sun are uniquely red.
There are several plum trees in the corner, and Ling Han is blooming alone;
I know it is not snow from a distance, because there is a faint fragrance.
Only peonies are the true national beauty, and they move the capital when they bloom.
The dawn outside the green poplar smoke is slightly cold, and the red apricot branches are full of spring.
It’s not that chrysanthemums are preferred among flowers. There will be no flowers even after all the flowers have bloomed.
The falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers.
Suddenly a spring breeze came overnight, and thousands of pear trees bloomed.
It is late in spring when the swallows do not return, and the apricot blossoms are cold in the misty rain.
The sweet-scented osmanthus falls when people are idle, the night is quiet and the spring mountains are empty.
Even if the wind blows away all night, it is only by the shallow water of reed flowers.
The fallen plum blossoms have passed the remaining wax, and it’s a new year to return to my hometown.
The moon is melting in the pear blossom courtyard, and there is a gentle breeze in the catkin pond.
Thousands of miles of rice flowers should be beautiful, and the tung leaves at the fifth watch have the best sound.
The ground is full of reed flowers and I am old, who will the swallows fly next to when returning home?
The flowers float and the water flows. One kind of lovesickness, two places of idle sorrow.
Looking at the red and wet place at dawn, the flowers are heavy on the official city.