Good rain knows when it is spring.

Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.

The wild path is full of clouds, and the black water and river fire.

Xiao Kan Shi hong Chu Hua chong Jin Guan cheng

Du Fu, Spring in the Tang Dynasty

In spring, trees and grass turn green again. Although a country is divided, mountains and rivers remain forever.

Lonely birds sing their sorrows, and their petals flow down like tears.

After three months of war, a piece of news from my hometown is of great value.

I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin and too miscellaneous.

Passing through the Old Village Don Meng Haoran

You entertained me on your farm and prepared chicken and rice for me, old friend.

And the pale blue in remote mountainous areas, we look at the green trees surrounding your village.

We open your window in the garden and field of Bajiu Chinese sauna.

I'll come back at chrysanthemum time and wait until the holiday in the mountains.