Poems describing spring flowers, spring rain, early spring crowds, and spring grass, three lines each

The peach blossoms are red and the plum blossoms are white, shining in the corner of the city and back to the south road. Looking at the peach and plum blossoms, the spring flowers are dim and smoky, and the swallows on the eaves are falling. There are usually hundreds of kinds of flowers blooming, but pear blossoms and white flowers are mostly picked. Mountain springs flow loosely around the steps, and thousands of trees and peach blossoms reflect the small building. Looking southwest after the long chanting, I still feel like the last spring flowers are falling. After the spring flowers fall, the moon is bright in the sky.

If you don’t see the fragrant branches, the spring flowers will all fall and the bees will not see them. ========================================== Sneak into the night with the wind, moisturize everything silent. On a spring night, there are a thousand rain-loving willows and a branch of apricot, half containing the spring rain and half hanging silk. Green poplars spring rain, and thousands of golden threads float.

I sigh when I am sick, and the spring rain is misted with the color of elms and willows. The spring rain falls in the ninth heaven, gradually warming up the dragon pond and the willow smoke. When spring comes, the streets are paved, and the spring rain is as thin as silk. Willows are like silk, Yiqiao during the spring rain. The morning glow appears in Danque, and the spring rain comes gently from the sweet spring. The water in the empty pond is green and the spring rain is light, and the east wind scatters the willows. The lotuses come out of the forest, the spring rain is gentle, and the reed pipes blow the green sedge. ===================================