1. Happy rain on a spring night by Du Fu
Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisturizing things silently.
The wild paths are all dark with clouds, but the river boats are only bright with fire.
Looking at the red and wet place at dawn, the flowers are heavy on the official city.
2. In early spring, Zhang Shiba of the Ministry of Water (one of two poems) Han Yu
The light rain on the sky street is as moist as crisp, the color of grass looks far away but not up close.
The best thing about spring is that it is better than the smoke and willows all over the imperial capital.
3. "Quequatrains" by Zhinan Monk
The rain of apricot blossoms makes your clothes wet, and the willow wind blows on your face without chilling it.
4. "The Fisherman's Song" by Zhang Zhihe
Green bamboo hats, green coir raincoats, no need to return in the slanting wind and drizzle.
5. "Spring Rain" by Li Shangyin
The red building looks cold across the rain, and the bead foil floating lantern returns alone.
6. "Geng Luzi" Li Yu
The willow silk is long, the spring rain is thin, and the sound of leaking outside the flowers is heard far away.
7. "Qiluoxiang Spring Rain" Shi Dazu
Being cold and deceiving the flowers, trapping the smoke in the willows,
Secretly urging the evening of spring from thousands of miles away.
I am lost all day long, and I am still feeling anxious.
When the powder is heavy, the butterfly lives in the West Garden.
It is happy when the mud is moist, and the swallow returns to Nanpu.
The worst thing to do is to have a romantic date.
The car cannot reach Duling Road.
8. "The First Spring Rain in Lin'an" by Lu You
Listen to the spring rain in the small building all night, and sell apricot flowers in the deep alleys in the Ming Dynasty.
9. "Dayu Spring Rain" by Zhou Bangyan
The smoke is closing in the sky, the spring birds are quiet, and the high house sings when it rains.
The green jade on the wall is all washed away, and the young tips touch each other.
Moisten the piano silk, the cold invades the pillow, and the insect net blows the curtain bamboo.
There is no one in the mail booth. I can hear the constant sound of the eaves and feel sleepy.
I feel so sad and frightened, my dreams are so light and hard to remember, I feel so lonely and lonely.