The eaves are low and the grass is green on the stream.
When drunk, Wu Yin is very charming, but who is the old lady with gray hair?
The eldest son is hoeing beans to the east of the stream, while the middle son is weaving a chicken coop.
What I like most is when my child dies, lying down at the head of the stream and peeling lotus pods.
When spring comes, the streets are paved, and the spring rain is as thin as silk.
The spring ground is full of red apricot stems, and spring swallows dance with the wind.
The spring flags are thin, the spring silk ribbons are thin, and the spring boudoir is a little spring lantern.
Naturally, the heart of spring is arousing, but there is no basis for the dream of spring.
Where does spring return? Loneliness leads nowhere.
If someone knows where Chun is going, he can call her back to live with her.
Who knows if there is no trace of spring? Unless you ask for oriole.
No one can understand a hundred warblings, because the wind flies over the roses.