Poetry about the vagaries of the weather

Su Shi's Drunken Book of Looking at the Lake Building, June 27.

Clouds poured out and poured down like ink, but a mountain range was exposed on the horizon, bright and fresh, and the splashing water was like white pearl gravel, splashing on the boat.

Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle.

Liu Yuxi, Zhi Zhu's Ci

The willow-green river is wide and flat, and I heard the song of the river.

Rain in the east, sunrise in the east, said it was not sunny, but it was still sunny.