On the seventy-fifth day of the lunar new year, Zhu Ping and Gansu are romantic in spring. On a cloudy and foggy night, after enjoying the blush and dyeing the veils, it is necessary to add interest to the mood before Mr. Su's silver makeup becomes unreal, and also to express a wish that the children in the festive season will be full of stars, and the moon, the moon and the fragrant jade feathers will fly like butterflies, and chickens and dogs will call spring back to the United States to add color to the silver tree, and neon Yue Hui will hide mystery. A lion dance will shake the snow scene in the prosperous times, and the blueprint for big dreams is wonderful.

Poems about snow lanterns.

Snowy lanterns, on New Year's Eve, when the east wind is warm and cold, step into the frozen river in the clouds, wake up and shake the willows, dance in the hard work of the old horse, once hold your head high in the dry years, but now the mulberry garden is happy, even if the sideburns are white, it still needs to be whipped in front of you. A few lanterns melt the bleak night and walk side by side with a touch of red. After struggling on the road of youth, large tracts of snowflakes are dancing, shining and free and easy under the projection lamp. This is a moment I never expected.