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The poem of spring
First, Jiang Nanchun

Tang Dynasty: Du Mu

Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills. ?

More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.

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Birds are singing in the south of the Yangtze River, green grass and red flowers set each other off, and wine flags are flying everywhere in the foothills of waterside villages.

There are more than 480 ancient temples left over from the Southern Dynasties, and countless terraces are shrouded in wind, smoke, clouds and rain.

Second, a brief encounter.

Five Dynasties: Li Yu

Hua Lin thanked Chunhong and left in a hurry. Helpless, cold rain comes early and wind comes late.

Cochineal tears, stay drunk, when heavy. Naturally, people hate water when they grow up. (Leave one work each: leave one person)

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The safflower in the forest has withered, and the flowers are blooming and falling. I'm really in a hurry to leave. There's nothing I can do. What about those flowers?

Can it withstand the cold, cold and rain day and night?

Red flowers falling everywhere are wet by rain, like rouge on the cheeks of a tearful beauty. Flowers and people who love flowers are attached.

When can we meet again? Life has always been a hateful thing, just like the river that died in the East, isn't it?

There is no end to rest.