Xiaoxiao under the wind and rain

March
It’s Taozhi Yaoyao

Hear the glacier's thaw horn

Peep the spring light hidden in the fine grass

Hold a book
Sitting in a small room with an open window
The sun outside the window

Light up the windows too
Maybe
such a day

You should write a letter

The swallow returned from entrustment
Take it to the far place where you are
-
dawn breaks
Set off on the already predicted morning
southward
further south

I always want to bump into the birds returning home for the first time
The villages along the way have not yet woken up.

Mai Miao Qingqing
Let the lonely hut enter the palace of oil painting
-
Right now
you and I

Two cities far away

You follow the ancient clock through the dusk

I hear the rooster crow to welcome the dawn

No matter north latitude or east longitude
In fact, it’s only a thousand kilometers away
If the swallow could
I will never let the homing pigeon travel in vain

The messenger of spring

I must be willing to convey my thoughts to you
-
Outside the window

Willow buds emerge on their own
The hazy goose yellow is about to turn into green

The white geese on the lakeside are squawking and making noise.
Even a peach blossom

It should also be held grandly

Where are the butterflies?
Where did the butterfly fly?
I do not know
Let this letter end abruptly

After all the story of spring

Still continuing