There is a lot of silk in the sky above the avenue, which is as delicate and moist as butter. The grass is vaguely connected in the distance, but it looks sparse in the near future. The most beneficial thing is the spring of the year, which is better than the smoke willow of the emperor.
Butterflies are dancing all the time, and charming songbirds just crow.
Summer: The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers reflect different colors in the sun.
Xiao-he just showed his sharp corner, and the dragonfly had already stood on it.
It rains at home in Huangmei season, and frogs come to the grass pond.
Autumn: Clouds are scattered by cranes in the clear sky, bringing poetry to Bixiao.
Chijingqiu Pavilion, the drizzle is cool.
It's already late autumn on the high platform, and I feel sad when I look straight at it. The situation returns to the wind, and the string is broken.
Winter: Like the strong wind in spring, it blows at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees.
There are some plums in the corner, and cold ling opens them alone. It's not snow in the distance, because there's a smell coming.
The snow is fluttering, the red stove is warm, and the wine is full of lambs. Such as flying catkins, dancing like Hu Die and shearing goose feathers. Silver builds balconies and powder makes wilderness.