Lin Zi's Poems

Tourists go to Fenglin at night, and the moon is full of empty mountains.

Wuqu Mountain has high clouds and deep air, and it is dark and flat for a long time.

There are strangers in the forest, but the eternal heart is in the voice.

Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers.

Only then did I understand that listening to the cry of the thrush locked in a golden cage is far less than singing leisurely in the forest.

It's too light for anyone to hear, except my partner, Mingyue.

Easy to see in the forest, idle in the stream for gulls.

In late autumn, the smoke rises and the maple trees whisper.

The orioles in the Woods stopped crying, but came to the pond covered with grass alone to listen to the frogs.

On a pure morning, near the ancient temple, the early sunshine points to the treetops.

The sun rises, the snow melts, the mountains look more silent and empty, the silly bear is slowly climbing the tree, and the deer is leisurely sipping the stream.

Fang spread the geese while waiting for the noise in the pavilion.