Whoever speaks an inch of grass will be rewarded with three rays of spring.

Two orioles sang in the green willows, and a row of egrets climbed into the blue sky.

The exquisite dice are decorated with red beans, and I miss you deeply.

I am moved to tears by the flowers in my heart, and I am frightened by the hatred of other birds.

The apricot blossom rain makes your clothes wet, and the willow wind blows on your face without chilling it.

I sleep in spring without waking up, and hear birds singing everywhere.

Red beans grow in the south, and a few branches will appear in spring.

The pond grows spring grass, and the garden willows turn into songbirds.

The grass is long and the orioles are flying in the February sky, and the willows are brushing against the embankments intoxicated by the spring smoke.

The wild flowers are becoming more and more charming, and only in Asakusa can there be no horse hooves.

The grass is dry and the hawk's eyes are weak, and the snow is gone and the horse's hooves are light.

On the top of the willow tree in the moonlight, people meet after dusk.

Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen.

Back then, I refused to marry the spring breeze, but I was mistaken by the autumn breeze for no reason.

The clouds rise above the sea and dawn, and the plum blossoms and willows cross the river in spring.

Why should the Qiang flute blame the willows? The spring breeze does not pass through Yumen Pass.

The courtyard is a little deeper, with smoke from willows and numerous curtains.

The spring tide brings rain late in the day, and there is no boat crossing the wild river.

The moon is melting in the pear blossom courtyard, and there is a gentle breeze in the catkin pond.

In front of Xisai Mountain, egrets fly, and peach blossoms and flowing water make mandarin fish fat.

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