A poem describing the beautiful willows by the lake.

By the lake, graceful willows, slender willow leaves with a little green light, look like a green gem from a distance, and willow branches are no less attractive, soft and lingering, like a beautiful woman with outstanding charm. This scene can really be described as "Jasper dressed as a tree, and thousands of strands of green silk tapestries hang down".

Teacher, do you still remember me-a "naughty boy" who made you pay countless efforts and sweat? A wrinkle in the corner of your eye was born for me, and another white hair on your head was born for me. If the poem "Spring silkworms are spinning until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night" does not praise your dedication to burning yourself and illuminating others, who can you praise?