On the winter solstice, a ray of light breaks through the ice.
Snowflakes are not plums, but they give poetry to the branches.
When the jade dragon flies, it is covered in silver and poems.
The cold moon hangs at the end of the world, and the winter night is lonely and reflects the long river.
The wind and snow are intertwined into a picture scroll, and everything is sleeping and waiting for spring to return.
The plum fragrance floats in the ice and snow, and the independent cold winter shows its proud bones.
The winter wind tells the secret of the cycle of the seasons.
The snow is covered with bluestone, and the silence contains the power of vitality.
The plain sleeves are lightly covered with edelweiss, and the winter is gentle and graceful.
Under the ice eaves, listen to the whispers of the years in the silence.
The moonlight is sprinkled with frost, and the coldness of the winter night contains deep thoughts.
The vast snowfield is like an infinite line of poetry, and the line of writing is wide.
Winter hides everything, and every seed carries the dream of spring.
The bitter winter wind, blowing through the treetops, awakens the sleeping soul of the earth.
Fishing alone in the cold river, the fish is not hooked, but the poetry is full of the lake.
The snow dance is all over the sky, and the poetry of winter is speechless but worth a thousand words.
The smoke stove boils tea and talks about the old years, and the winter hearth can best understand the warmth of the world.
The cold moon shines on the sky, and the dust under the silver sky is picturesque.
The charm of winter lies in subtlety, waiting for the bloom of new life in the cold.
The ice condenses the window lattice, like the amber of time, sealing the story of winter.