Begonia poetry

The east wind is full of worship, and the fragrant fog turns to the corridor.

I was afraid that the flowers would fall asleep in the middle of the night, so I lit candles and put on red makeup.

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The east wind blew away the faint clouds, revealing the moon, and the moonlight was also a faint floral fragrance that melted in the hazy fog. The moon had moved over the cloister in the courtyard. Because I was just afraid that the flowers would fall asleep in the middle of the night, I lit a tall candle and refused to miss the opportunity to enjoy the blooming begonia.

2. "Like a dream, it rained suddenly last night"-Song Qingzhao

Last night, it rained suddenly and the wind blew, so I slept soundly and didn't consume wine.

Ask the shutter man, Haitang is still there.

You know what? You know what? It should be green, fat, red and thin.

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Although it rained thinly and the wind was strong last night, a deep sleep could not eliminate all the remaining alcohol. Ask the maid who is rolling the blinds: What about the begonia flowers in the garden now? She said that the begonia flowers are still the same as before. You know, you know, this season should be lush green leaves and withered red flowers.

3, "the same generation of Fu did not open Haitang"-Tang Yuan Haowen

Layers of leaves grow between the new branches of begonia, and the little buds hidden in them glow a little red.

Be sure to cherish your heart, don't bloom easily, let the peach blossom fan bloom in the spring of spring breeze!

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The bleak winter has just passed, and the spring is chilly, and green grass and enthusiastic red apricots have rushed to bloom. Peach blossoms are slightly pink, pear blossoms are fragrant, willow trees are leisurely combing the soft wind, and a bright and splendid spring scenery makes people both happy and sorry. Sentimental poets lament that "the peach blossoms wither in a hurry", hate that "the flowers wither mercilessly", think of "the guests wake up late at night after drinking" and enjoy the residual flowers with red candles in their hands. However, Yuan Haowen's flower-chanting poem left his lingering eyes on the "heavy", "new green" and the bud of Haitang, which was unexpected.