Write poems with flowers, wind, moon, bridge, water and sun.

Rain: I want to get my clothes wet and my face is not cold. Liufeng is conducive to rainfall. It rains a lot in spring when it is Tomb-Sweeping Day. Pedestrians on the road want to fart: sneak into the night with the wind and moisten things silently. Wildfire never completely devoured them, and they grew taller in the spring breeze: the sunset was far away, the cold white house was poor, the sunrise was red, and the river was as green as the blue moon. Until, holding up my cup, I asked the moon, which brought me my shadow and made the three of us happy and sad. The moon was full of flowers. Stop and sit in the maple forest. Frost leaves bloom like spring breeze, and the night of February blows open the petals of ten thousand pear tree birds: I wake up briskly in this spring morning, and the petals flow down like tears. Birds sing everywhere around me, and lonely birds sing their sorrows about the mountains: the mountains cover the day, and the Haihe River doesn't know the true face of the mountain, just because they are in the grass in this mountain: they leave the original grassland, and when they are one year old, they will harvest three flowers. When will the bright moon shine on me?