Are you here?

Winter, are you coming?

The grass is still weak green, and the trees are still dark blue;

Although there is no ice and snow,

But there was still a bitter north wind.

Looking at the stars in the night sky,

Remembering your charming eyes;

See the morning sun,

Remember your faint smile.

Although you are short-tempered,

The wind swept with frankness;

Although you have a stubborn personality,

Rain and snow are everywhere.

You are the white aura of the four seasons,

You are the cycle clock of life.

I hope you arrive as scheduled,

Because I smell the intoxicating spring breeze behind you.