In the distance, there are cold mountains, oblique stone paths and people in the depths of white clouds. Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February.
Du Fu's quatrains:
"Two orioles sing green willows, egrets sky-high." Outside my window is the snowy Western Hills. My door often says "goodbye" to ships sailing eastward.
Wang Zhihuan's In the Heron Villa;
The sun sets slowly near the western hills, and the Yellow River flows into the East China Sea. By going up one flight of stairs, look further.
Zhangji is a night berth near Fengqiao.
Crows fell on the moon, crowed coldly, slept on maple trees, and slept in fishing lanes by the river. In the lonely Hanshan Temple outside Suzhou, the bell that rang in the middle of the night reached the passenger ship.
Du Mu's Jiangnan Spring:
Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills. More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.
Su Shi's Rain after Drinking Chuqing Lake;
The water is bright and sunny, and the mountains are cloudy and rainy. If there are more dead beauties in the West Lake, C+ is so appropriate.