The years are beautiful,
It lies in its inevitable passing,
Spring flowers, autumn moons, summer days, winter snow.
Gently shake off, the wind and dust of the previous season,
The wind began to get stronger.
The leaves curl up in the arms of the big tree,
Winter, just like this, slowly came in a plain dress.
Heaven and earth have lost the hustle and bustle of Zi Yan Hong,
But there is more purity and transparency,
The temptation of tranquility...
Spring water is full of four Zeze, summer clouds and many strange peaks.
Autumn moon Yang Minghui, winter ridge show cold pine.
——Tao Yuanming, "Four Hours"
Autumn and winter months,
Like a lantern in the fog,
Emitting a faint and misty soft light,
It was as if everything on earth had become confused.
Winter Ridge has pine,
Standing proudly,
It is the guardian of the earth,
It is also the embodiment of winter beauty and firmness.
The clouds and gulls dance more, and the wind is against the geese.
In the box, male and female swords, blowing hair can be chosen.
——Du Fu, "Sending the Eldest Grandson to the State in the Winter Evening"
Sunny winter days,
The cold wind blows, some cold,
The sky was getting taller.
Faint white clouds drift freely.
The formation of the distant geese,
As if blown away by this cold wind,
The whole team is busy,
Always ready to fly high with positive wings...
Fragrant leaves,
The westerly wind stirred up the green waves.
He was also haggard with Shao Guang, and he couldn't see it.
Drizzle dreams back to the chicken saiyuan,
Xiao Lou blew through the Jade Sheng Cold.
How many teardrops are limited to hate, leaning on the fence dry.
——Li Jing, "Spreading the HuanXi Sand"
In the winter of the South,
There is such a residual lotus,
It has only withered remnants,
The bent lotus stem and the flower stem of the lotus canopy.
When the bird gently stands on the residual lotus,
As if time had been frozen,
Inadvertently,
I don't know how many people's hearts have been softened.
Zhongfang shook off Du Xuanyan and occupied the style to the small garden.
The shadow is shallow and shallow, and the dark incense floats at dusk.
——Lin Kui, "Mountain Garden Xiaomei"
Plum, is the charm of winter,
That strike is bright and beautiful,
Diagonally in the shallow water,
The quiet fragrance floats in the dusk moonlight,
The charm of winter is revealed.
Spiraling and spiraling towards tuning,
If the icicles between the eaves are cut out and added.
Or low or angry, small big yingjie,
There is no equal difference with the situation.
Doubting the Jade Dragon Netherworld,
Qi to the thatched eaves cloth minions.
——Liu Cha, "Icicles"
Ice, the weapon of winter,
They're crystal clear,
Pure and majestic
Whether in the eaves or in the mountains,
They all exude a pure charm.
Covered with green wheat unsound, Jiangnan cloud leaves dark with the car,
Lingao smoke scenery in the world, rain feet half closed eaves broken line,
The snow forest first fell from the tiles, and returned to the ice with sticky whiskers.
- Su Shi, "Huan Xi Sha"
When the snow is falling,
Calling relatives and friends,
Sit in the pavilion in the middle of the lake, and lean on the attic to enjoy the snow.
In the most silent place, enjoy the most beautiful scenery of heaven and earth,
That's the greatest joy of winter!
Sit back and drink the water and watch the frying dust.
Hold a bowl for no reason and send it to the tea lover.
——Bai Juyi, "Mountain Spring Sencha with Nostalgia"
Winter afternoon, the shadow of the sun reflects the window,
Drink a stream of clear spring water,
Sencha, tea tasting,
How many times can I have fun in life?
If there is another tea friend, drink and drink together,
Life is fun, what do you want?
The flying snow has a sound, but it is the most elegant in the bamboo room.
When the mountain window is cold at night,
Listen to the snow sprinkling bamboo forest,
Draining The Little, even the Piansser,
The sound rhymes leisurely, and I can hear it clearly.
——Gao Lian, "Four Hours of Appreciation"
When the mountain window is cold at night, listen to the snow sprinkling the bamboo forest.
The sound rhymes leisurely,
Slow and urgent,
Like the tortuous sound of the pipa girl,
Wonder what kind of story she's telling?
Small step on the dead leaves of the sycamore bank, the water is still cold smoke sunset.
I borrow a spark of loneliness, and I melt the night snow and melt my heart.
Sitting in front of the stove in winter,
Drink lightly and drink low, yaza happy.
Those days, those moments,
Even if it's freezing outside the window,
The heart is also in the spring.
That's it
unconsciously
Lost in the temptations of winter.