Poems about cooking smoke in mountain villages 1 In the early morning, the sound in western Zhejiang is quiet, and there is less cooking smoke on the north side of Huaihe River. Smoke less when cooking. Xuanhe Palace, cold smoke and rotten grass.
2. A little smoke in Julie Village, people were deeply enclosed in the rain.
3. The Fusheng family is not afraid of storms, so they don't cook and smoke, but smoke and drink tea, and sleep with Sha Ou.
4. Distant villages, smog in the Yi market.
5. At sunset, candles were passed in the Han Palace, and light smoke was scattered into Wuhou's home.
6. Chai Men closes in the sunset. Cooking starts at one o'clock when it smokes.
7, the smoke is lonely, and the trapped bird is still cold.
8. Wusong Reed Village is red, and the fishing house is wet after the rain.
9. I wonder who the fishing net is at dusk.
10, the village hut cooks cigarettes at night and looks for village wine to wear the hut.
The first sentence 1 is about the smoke from cooking in the morning, and the smoke from cooking in the distance rises stubbornly against the wind and rain. As it gradually dissipated, it melted into the green hills, into the earth, and also spilled into my heart and into the blood of life.
2. Whenever we enter the twelfth lunar month, the sky in the countryside is always full of smoke, and the air is filled with fragrance.
There is an increasingly strong fragrance in the sky of the twelfth lunar month, which is the charm of every household lighting up for a year. The watch and sustenance in the coming year will make the whole village drunk, and the smoke from the kitchen will be more and more lingering. Along this fragrance, busy figures can be seen everywhere.
There is smoke everywhere in the mountain village. At this time, it is like the fruit on the vine, connecting all over the mountains, showing birth and vitality, showing incomparable richness and prosperity.
5. Cooking smoke is quiet, pure, light and ethereal. People try their best to show immortal souls. Cooking smoke is the cloud rising in the house, the ghost cremated by the firewood stove, and the voice and breath of the village.