Ancient poems about fog

The breeze and bright moon are priceless, and there is love near water and distant mountains. The fog locks the mountains, and the sky is connected with water. Flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog, come at midnight and go at dawn. Come like a spring dream, go like a cloud, and have nothing to hide. The mountains and waters are beautiful and the fog falls for miles. At first glance, I suspected Tibetan and Han temples, but the sunshine did not cover Qin Lou. After the rain, the red bridge is full of flowers, and the catkins stick to the mud all night. There is no fog in the morning, and the spring mountain is as close as the distance. The fog is gone, the moon is gone, and Taoyuan is nowhere to be found.