Bu Suanzi Yong Mei
Lu You, Song Dynasty
Beside the broken bridge outside the post office, it is lonely and ownerless.
It is already dusk, I am sad alone, and it is even more windy and rainy.
I have no intention of fighting for spring, but I will let everyone be jealous.
It fell into mud and was crushed into dust, but only the fragrance remains the same.
Ode to Willows
He Zhizhang of the Tang Dynasty
The jasper made up a tree as high as a tree, with thousands of green silk ribbons hanging down.
I don’t know who cuts the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors