Sadness imitates poetry.

Spring breeze, like gauze and mist, makes people intoxicated and float, like delicate jade hands, soothes your scarred heart.

Spring breeze, if encouraged, can warm your heart; Spring breeze, like hope, can sweep away the melancholy in my heart.

Spring breeze is like the touch of a pair of hands, like a soft satin breeze. The swallows swept the mountain green and wrinkled the water with a gentle sweep.

Spring breeze is like a song with sparse voice, like an invisible dance. If there is no rhyme, the mountains and rivers will wake up.