Looking for some poems about frogs croaking …

The old man is really like a child, pumping water and burying the basin as a small pool.

Frogs crow all night at dawn, just like when fishing with a square mouth.

Mo Tao's pots and ponds are dying, and lotus roots have been planted for some time.

From now on, it will rain. You must remember to listen to the rustling of leaves.

The tile is clear from the water in the morning, and countless bugs are unknown.

Suddenly it disappeared without a trace, and only the fish were waiting in line.

The mud basin is shallow and small, and the frog learns at midnight.

When you listen to the darkness, you are your partner, and you are too lazy to call your mother and father.

Chi Guangtian was green, so she added a few bottles of water to the shore.

Let's wait for the bright moon at night and see how many stars are swimming.

The grass is green and the pool is wide, and finally the peace of the pavilion is called.

No one can get rid of fatigue, only the frog is not an official.

Lying beside you, I don't know, there is no sound and rain in the porch window.

There is no cloth socks frog, but it's not too late to come out now.

Rice fragrance says harvest, listen to frogs.

Sitting alone in the pond like a tiger,

Cultivate spirit in the shade of trees.

I won't say anything about spring,

Which bug dares to be silent?