A winding and deep path stretches towards the green mountains in early spring. My boat floats on the clear blue water in front of the mountains, wandering leisurely and contentedly. The tide has risen, making the river bank appear wider than before. The water surface is ruffled by the wind, and a solitary sail is swaying gently. The sun rises from the sea, like a thorn of light, puncturing the remaining night, brushing away the darkness, revealing the glow. Spring in the south of the Yangtze River, you came so early, it seems like last year's winter was driven away by you in an instant, and I can't feel it at all. . I have a letter full of affection, written in my heart, in the water waves, and in the image of spring, but how can it warm me back home? To the returning geese flying north to Luoyang, I have no choice but to ask you to make a hasty delivery so that my home thousands of miles away can feel my faint joy at this moment.