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Classical Poems about beginning of spring
There are many famous poems about beginning of spring, such as Wei Zhuang's beginning of spring, Lu You's beginning of spring Day, Chen Shidao's beginning of spring's slogan, Zhang Jiuling's beginning of spring's snow in the morning, and Du Fu's Poem of Beginning of Spring, etc.

1, "beginning of spring" Tang Wei Zhuang

Qing Di's coming from the east is late, and the warm smoke is blowing gently by the breeze. The robe-wearing childe felt it before, but the beautiful woman in the brocade account knew it in her dream.

At first, the snow garden opened red cabbage, colorful banners and green poplars. Attentive to compose Yichun song, the title is embroidered on the flower notes.

2, "beginning of spring Day" Song Luyou

The sunrise wind and hangover wake up, and the mountain family is happy for the rest of their lives. The snow is abundant in the past three years, and the suburbs are warm and green in spring.

The fine flowers in the vegetables should be pancakes, and the wine will float in a long bottle. The beautiful scenery of the lake village is hard to sing, begging for a painting screen with the Hou family.

3, "beginning of spring's slogan" Song Chen Shidao

It's drizzling with snow and not touching the dust, cleaning up the sun and making early spring. It's rare to have a good time at four o'clock when you sit down and return to Shengde.

The color on the temples wins every year, and the singing is getting better every day. A smile is hard to lose, and a cup of wine is hard to say.

4, "beginning of spring on the snow in the morning" Tang Zhang Jiuling

Suddenly it snowed on Lin Ting, and Yaohua blossomed everywhere. This year's welcome began, and last night was accompanied by spring return.

Bamboo in front of Yurun window, plum in the yard. In the eastern suburb, you should see the five gods.

5, "beginning of spring Poetry" Tang Du Fu

In the spring, the lettuce is fine in the spring dish, and suddenly I remember the heyday of Beijing. Dish out the white jade in the high gate, and the dish is handed over to the hands to send the moss.

Du Ling's distant guests are deeply saddened by the eyes of Wuxia Hanjiang River. I don't know where to go, so I'm looking for a poem.