A poem reflecting sadness in cold weather

There are no birds in a hundred mountains, no footprints in a thousand roads, a boat, a bamboo cloak, and an old man fishing in the cold Jiang Xue.

Outside the bridge, the plum blossoms are lonely, no matter what. Twilight arrival, plum blossom is helpless, exhausted, and has to withstand the wind and rain.

Plum blossoms don't want to compete for blooming, and the envy and rejection of flowers don't care. Even after autumn, when it is ground into dirt and turned into dust, plum blossoms still emit fragrance as usual.