"Willow Buds"

"Willow Buds"

Then let's talk about willow buds,

in the slightly cold misty rain,

like beans The brown buds quietly opened their eyes, and the green notes jumped and blurred.

Perhaps we should wait for the bright sunshine,

and let the birds carry the first primrose through the curtain.

Like a dream, the light green and light blue of a dream flows on the branches among the buds.

Perhaps you can lean on the early spring night,

Look at the hazy moonlight, look at the hazy willow smoke,

The willow buds are like ink, drop by drop, drop by drop Drop by drop,

splash out the freehand brushwork of suitable shades.

Stretching is an undoubted mission.

Find a timid day.

Let the willow leaves be like flowers and the willow silk like eyes.

This season, it is destined

There will be no sorrow.