In the Four Seasons Map,
A spoonful of West Lake poetry is full of flavor.
In spring, songbirds hide willows,
In summer, the lotus blooms and the waves are red.
Bai Causeway full moon mid-autumn dew,
At the end of the year, the forest tomb is full of wind.
The beautiful scenery is irresponsible every year.
How to talk about nothing?
Weng Mei's feelings about the West Lake in spring: I am lucky to live in painting, and I am full of milk from the West Lake. Plum bones are cold and fragrant, and lotus flowers are pale red in summer. The autumn heart prints three pools and the moon in the evening, and the spring breeze blows in the morning. More than 70 years have passed. Looking back, the trace is far away.