I wrote the poem about scenery myself.

The moon moved, the figure moved, the wind moved the clock,

The frost drifted silently.

Thin clothes, thin brocade, thin fireworks,

Drunk

The moon moved, the figure moved, the wind moved the clock,

The frost drifted silently.

Thin clothes, thin brocade, thin fireworks,

Drunk wine bosom friend, caressed the piano.

Dark Jade

Flying butterflies accompany the clouds into the twilight forest,

Tears are like red leaves and green leaves

Water, like light ink, stains the stone road.

There is always a break in the wind and rain. It's raining.

Red clouds

Ordinary flower rain is broken with the wind,

This stone is dyed with light ink.

The green leaves turned red, as red as tears.

Twilight enters the clouds and butterflies fly. -Cloud