Dawn of spring
Tang Meng Hao ran
In the spring morning, I woke up easily, and birds were singing everywhere.
But now I think of that night, that storm, I don't know how many flowers I folded.
The Willow
Tang He Zhang Zhi
Jasper is dressed up as a tree with 10,000 green silk tapestries.
I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors.
Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night.
Don du fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.
Wild trails and clouds are all black, and rivers and boats are bright.
Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
Peach blossom in Dalinsi
Tang Bai Juyi
In April, the beauty of the world is exhausted, and the peach blossoms in the mountain temple are blooming.
I have long hated that spring is nowhere to be found and I don't know where to go.
Spring outing in Qiantang River
Tang Bai Juyi
Gushan Temple is in the north of Jiating West, and the water level is low.
Several early warblers compete for warm trees, and their new swallows peck at the soil in spring.
Flowers are more and more attractive, and shallow grass can be without horseshoes.
I love the lack of eastward travel of the lake and the white sand embankment under the shade of green trees.
Ancient poems about winter:
Jiang Xue.
Liutang Zongyuan
Hundreds of mountains have no birds, and thousands of paths have no footprints.
A boat, a bamboo cloak, an old man fishing in the cold Jiang Xue.
Biedongda
Don
Thousands of miles away in Huang Yun, the sun is shining, and the north wind is blowing snow.
Mochow has no confidant in the road ahead, and everyone knows you.
Yongmei.
Wang Song Anshi
There are some plums in the corner, and hanling opens them alone.
It's not snow from afar, only the fragrance comes.
Xue Mei
Song Lu meipo
For the sake of spring, Xue Mei refused to surrender, and the poet put down his manuscript fee to comment on this chapter.
The snow in Mei Xu Xun is three points white, but the snow has lost a piece of Mei Xiang.
Winter pastoral scenery
Fan Song Chengda
Let the boat idle to watch the snow-capped mountains clear, and the wind will freeze to the bone and freeze late.
Sitting and listening to a drop of pearl jade, I don't know that the lake has become ice.