Everything can touch people's feelings. What are the poems that the ancients thought about when they saw things?

When those red berries come in spring, they flush on your southern branches.

Yellow flowers were piled all over the floor, withered and damaged. Who can pick them now?

Recalling the original exploration, the wind in Yang Liuyi was blowing in the wind; Now back on the road, snowflakes are flying everywhere. It rained when I thought of it today.

Crazy catkins dance with the wind, and fine peach blossoms chase water.

Flowers from Shui Piao to water, a kind of acacia, two places of leisure.

The river of no return is a romantic figure through the ages.

Then he disappeared around the corner, leaving only hoofprint.

In spring, the river is as green as blue. Can you not remember Jiangnan?

I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining.

Bai Shu crows in the atrium, and Coody Leng is silent and wet with osmanthus.

Like a reed, our sloop floats on the endless water.

Raise my cup, I invite the bright moon, which brings me its shadow and makes us three people.

There are few stars in the moon, and blackbirds fly south.

There are no birds flying over those mountains, and there are no traces of people in those paths.

... night gives way to the ocean of the sun, and the old year melts in freshness.

Alone in the west wing, the moon is like a hook, and the lonely sycamore deep courtyard locks the clear autumn.

Mermaids shed pearl-like tears on the moon-green sea, and the blue fields breathed their jade to the sun.

Qingshan is still there, and the setting sun is a few degrees.

Dark clouds crush the city and light dissipates the sun.

………………

I hope it will help the building!