Poetry by Li Wubin
Photo by Liu Ling
In spring, the roots are the first organs to mature
This is the season of the most proof of life.
Every plant is full of joy.
Start the journey of life from the germination of seeds.
Learn to absorb the water around you.
Do not refuse the nutrients of a grain of soil.
The roots are the first organs to mature.
It was cautious to the touch at first.
Both weak and tenacious.
Attack from all sides with both soft and hard.
The body is soft and strong.
No matter how much I have been wronged.
I don't stop stretching either.
Let the stems on the ground have firm roots.
Leafy and leafy.
Kiss the spring. 
I characterize remnant snow as a spring thing
Snow falling in spring.
It melts quickly under the caress of the sun.
Shelter from direct sunlight.
There is also a chance that the snow will survive.
Remnant Xue quietly poured out the light of luck.
I don't want to keep the stubbornness of winter.
Only give more moisture to those lands that lack temperature.
Allow the seeds to swell comfortably.
Then tear the fastening.
Drill out of the ground and lift.
Flag of Spring.
Ice knows to give up a piece of freedom
It is difficult to recognize early spring in the north.
Residual Ice does not understand the change of solar terms.
Still guarding the pond as if nothing happened.
Magpies still wear winter feathers.
Chirping in search of food.
Only magnolia flowers can't wait to poke out buds.
With immature fluff.
Innocent cute.
There is also a prophet of spring pool plumbing ducks.
Don't wait for the willow to return to green.
Ice knows to give up a piece of freedom
The joy of accommodating waterfowl.
The flower-faced duck has spring news in his mouth.
Quack quack. Send messages everywhere.
In spring, dreams bloom in plants
Hibernation is too long.
The seed can't hold back the enthusiasm for being born.
Wake up from a dream.
Scramble to bloom in plants.
The world seems diverse and lively.
The land is no longer monotonously guarded brown.
I'm getting younger, too.
Walks around a lot among the flowers.
A tribute to spring. 
My favorite animal is the tadpole
When I was a child, I didn't pay much attention to the little bees that picked flowers.
The favorite animal is the tadpole.
At that time, there was no story of "Little Tadpole Looking for Mother".
It is the nature of a childlike child to like tadpoles.
They are the notes that spring puts into the pond.
Tail wagging and wagging of the tail.
Spring is warm.
The ripples turn into a spring song.
Exuberant. 
Editor: Li Xunxiu, Xu Wenhe, Editorial Department of Qingyanwei Literature.
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