I'll answer it
Blue 7758
Lu 6 20 19-04-30
This can be the name of an ancient musical instrument or an inscription with the name of the instrument.
The unvoiced sound is "pure music" in the pentatonic scale, and the twenty-five strings are the strings of plucked instruments.
It can be understood in combination with Fifty Strings Crossing the Great Wall and I wonder why my Jinse has fifty strings.
However, these 25 strings are not necessarily fixed numbers, nor are they necessarily overlapping words.
(Mrs. Bailu: This sentence is very correct! )
Twenty-five-string silent publication
Inscription "Twenty-five strings"
Let me answer ***2 answers.
mjycxx LV.720 18-03-05
Twenty-five strings of unvoiced sounds
The first string of unvoiced sounds; Read the green grass and the sky. Wan Li is in the sky, with vast rivers and mountains. Where Liuhuayan does not return, the sound is broken, overlooking Qingchuan.
The voiced second string; Miss the autumn rain in Xia Yue. Jiang Tao surfing, curling boat. You know, it's been many years. I've been thinking about you all night, and my intestines are broken.
Voiced third string, peach, plum, apricot. Flocculation flies in front of the window and butterflies are dancing. The bright moon outside the curtain, the cool breeze and clear water gurgling, facing each other from afar, resenting Qianshan.
The fourth string is unvoiced, and the vines are lingering around the tree. Cliffs help each other climb together. Gentle, hand in hand with Linjiang to cross the boat, sail in the sunset and ripple in the waves.
Spit out the fifth string and sigh the past. Looking back at the riverbank, there is no beauty. Miss, faint with dry wine all day long, but how, drunk in Jiangnan.
The sixth string is mostly painted in dreams. The umbrella is fragrant, and the rain is raining. Attachment, laughter, more helplessness, sadness for the moon.
Voice the seventh string, who pity Duan Hong? The railings are patted all over, and there are countless mountain passes. Alas, tears wet the width of my skirt sleeves. I remember my appearance, but I am afraid of adding trouble.
The eighth string is voiceless, and the kiosk rolls the gauze curtain. The frog drum in the lotus pond leans against the bamboo fence alone. Looking forward to, Yan Zi is flying among the green willows, who will hold hands and refuse Mahe.
Yin Qing's ninth string, the bright moon Taihang Mountain. The peak is in Wan Ren, and the road is winding. Unforgettable, hunting days in Chixian County, today, has changed the world.
The tenth string is unvoiced, and the waves turn. Towering pagodas and mulberry fields shine at night. What I can recall is the bugle call for fighting the enemy, swords and shadows, blood shed, Yan 'an.
Eleven strings are voiceless and travel thousands of miles to Dabie Mountain. The Central Plains competed for deer. Fire and smoke. Fighting, tiger's jaws pulled out, pliers were broken, triumphant songs were played and drums were blaring.
Twelve strings are silent, vast Jinggangshan. The fire that started a prairie fire and the spark burned all the peaks. Remember, the iron wall made the enemy tremble with fear and turned over with the horse.
Clear thirteen strings, cut thorns and overcome difficulties. Jinsha water heating, bravely strive for the first place. Zunyi, Dadu Bridge, is even more afraid of cold, and it is a dangerous place.
The voice is clear and clear, can you forget Jiangnan? Acacia red beans, path rouge. Hand in hand, Lu' an smells oriole tigers running in spring, cool nights and cuckoos singing in the falling moon.
There are fifteen strings in a clear voice, and I remember Jiangnan in my dream. Jinling Xuanwu, Huai cooking smoke. Homesickness, the setting sun on Mount Li, and the crescent bend behind the willow tip.
Sixteen-string voiceless, or remembering Jiangnan. Qiao Feng surging waves, incense around the West Park. As the ancient rhyme goes, how many beautiful women accompany Liu Mian and get drunk with a flick of a finger,
Seventeen-string voiceless, who doesn't forget Jiangnan. The mountains are green and the boats are clear. Drunk, Yan Wu sang against the sunset, butterflies danced in pairs and swung around the yard.
I still remember Jiangnan. The singing girl of Lijiang River, the reed flute melts the rock. In the dream, silver moon sleeps in front of the bed. Where is he? Guiying Chen Juan.
The voiced nineteen strings, Yuelu dyed Liu Dan. Xiangjiang River goes north, and hundreds of cranes sail. Gull heron, drizzle, oblique wind and waves, making waves, pushing waves.
Twenty strings of unvoiced sound, and purple dance. Broccoli is a golden yellow and colorful terrace. However, there are some beautiful women outside the pavilion.
Twenty-one strings are unvoiced, and eight hundred miles are qinchuan. Fog hangs in Jinjiang and smoke piles in Caotang. Plum rain, but see the crow green leaves, Huanhuaxi, slightly blue.
Twenty-two strings play Taihu Lake. Two springs reflect the moon, who cares? In the dead of night, the fisherman doesn't feel cold alone, and then hold hands and wait for what year.
Twenty-three strings are clear, and five lights are colder. Acacia insomnia, the same boil. I used to sleep on a pillow, listen to frog drums and mumble in Yan language.
Clear your voice for twenty-four strings, don't be drunk in dreams. Bridge crossing, painting is sweet. Attachment, the water is far away for a few days, but I hate it all my life, adding to my troubles.
Twenty-five strings are voiceless, and pen and ink continue to love. How many letters and ink, blowing the old Chinese New Year. Years, spring is idle, the sun is setting, Xanadu!
Inscription "Twenty-five strings"
Let me answer ***2 answers.
mjycxx LV.720 18-03-05
Twenty-five strings of unvoiced sounds
The first string of unvoiced sounds; Read the green grass and the sky. Wan Li is in the sky, with vast rivers and mountains. Where Liuhuayan does not return, the sound is broken, overlooking Qingchuan.
The voiced second string; Miss the autumn rain in Xia Yue. Jiang Tao surfing, curling boat. You know, it's been many years. I've been thinking about you all night, and my intestines are broken.
Voiced third string, peach, plum, apricot. Flocculation flies in front of the window and butterflies are dancing. The bright moon outside the curtain, the cool breeze and clear water gurgling, facing each other from afar, resenting Qianshan.
The fourth string is unvoiced, and the vines are lingering around the tree. Cliffs help each other climb together. Gentle, hand in hand with Linjiang to cross the boat, sail in the sunset and ripple in the waves.
Spit out the fifth string and sigh the past. Looking back at the riverbank, there is no beauty. Miss, faint with dry wine all day long, but how, drunk in Jiangnan.
………………………………
The rules are as follows:
Its rhythm:
The calligraphy picture is a screenshot of the author who is learning Yan-style regular script (Yan Zhenqing's Li Yanqin Monument) on WeChat platform. Poetry, calligraphy and painting fellow practitioners also!