I miss you but the wind blows the catkins,
The rain moistens the moss and the corners of the eaves are wet.
The little peach is red at the bottom of the leaves,
The clear waves reflect the blue heart.
The cool breeze flows into the smoked willows,
The rain falls on the lotus pond and ripples softly.
Where to send the lingering love,
The fragrance of lotus fills the boat.
Poetry flows with fragrance, original poems by Fairy Xianghuang. . .