There are poems about geese.

There are poems about geese:

First, the swan goose flies in the air and its feathers are suppressed.

Hongyan flies in the air, flapping its wings and swishing.

Source: The Book of Songs

Second, oh, send this message to you, this pair of jade earrings! I saw a lonely goose in a cloud three thousand miles away.

Earring love letter is ready, how to send it? Just look at the sky in Wan Li, the swan goose that just flew in. .

Source: Li Shangyin's Spring Rain

Third, there is no cicada first, and a hundred feet of high water meets the sky.

No sooner had I heard the chirping of geese traveling to the south than the chirping of cicadas disappeared. I climbed a building 100 feet high, and at first glance, water and sky were connected.

Source: Li Shangyin's Frost Moon

4. Who sent the brocade book? The word goose returns, and the moon is full of the west building.

Who sent the brocade book to Baiyun scroll? It's time for the geese to line up and return to the south line by line. The moonlight is bright and soaking, and the lonely pavilion in the west is full.

Source: Li Qingzhao's "A Cut of Plum, Lotus Root Fragrance, Residual Jade in Autumn"

Verb (abbreviation for verb) I can finally send my messenger? Geese, return to Luoyang.

I don't know when the letter from home will arrive. I hope the geese returning from the north will take it to Luoyang.

Source: Wang Wan's "A berth at the foot of Beibao Mountain".

6. Wild geese passing through the clouds are still calling to the moon, and goats without grazing are grazing at the border.

Translation: the detention in Beihai was cut off and Hu was on his head; When the famine came back, the vast grassland was already rising at dusk.

Source: Wen's "Su Wu Temple"

Seventh, I still want to cross the fence, and Lan Ju has been divided. The building is far away. It snows heavily. There are wild geese in the air.

I'm still thinking about the middle reaches of the Ji Fen River, where orchids are half and half. The ship is far away, the snow is falling, and only geese fly every year.

Source: Su Shi's "Point crimson lips, don't be sad about autumn"