Andrew Wan Lifeng, the wind is blowing on my skirt. Kazuki Watanabe musicians are born in heaven, and there are few forests.
The bitter nights in midsummer are short, and the entrance is cool. When you see the slightest thing in vain, the feather bug flies.
Things have no details and are adaptive. Miss Pigos, and keep the border in poor years.
Why are you washing and looking at each other? Diao Dou was hit at night, and the noise was even 10,000 square meters.
Although the purple is covered, it is better to return to China early. North city is sad, storks fly.
When the situation is troublesome, you will be tired, and when you think hard, you will be healthy. "Early Summer" Tang Bai Juyi was full of things and planted them for a while.
Elk is happy in the depths of the jungle, and so are insects, snakes and grass. Hunan birds love dense leaves, and scales swim to welcome new algae.
Heaven and earth disappear, I wither alone. After all, all flesh and blood are far away.
There is no one in the old country, and Kou Rongchen is boundless. It's no use worrying. Embrace yourself.
Let go of your body and mind and let nature make you. More wine in Xunyang can keep the cup dry.
Fish is as cheap as mud, and moxibustion does not faint early. Go down to the temple at the foot of Mi Shan and get drunk in the lake.
Why go back to your hometown? I can't die. "Miscellaneous Summer Pastoral" (I) Song Fan Chengda, Li Zijin apricot fat, wheat white cauliflower thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. "Little Pool" Song Yang Wanli's eyes are silent and pity the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves sunny and soft.
The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head. After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock.
Lotus leaves will not turn green the next day, and lotus flowers are particularly bright red in the sun. "Drunken Book of Looking at the Lake Building on June 27th" Song Sushi's dark clouds turn over the ink and don't cover the mountain, and the white rain jumps over the boat.
Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle. In Unknown Miscellaneous Poems, the sun in Shi Naian is scorching, and the wild rice in Tianhe is half burnt.
The farmer's heart is like soup, and the son Wang Sun shakes it.
2. A "short" poem about summer 1 building, a poem praising summer, Early Summer —— Because of your warm presence on earth, Arctic Jun's poems "Summer Lying on My Chest" and "Azadirachta" —— Arctic Jun wrote about the calm and pallor of the sky after the storm. After you left, my heart beat a little fast, and you disappeared. I once again covered your nostalgic words with tears. Bury you in my heart while the temperature is high. If the past is more fragrant in my memory, can Azadirachta indica prove it? When I miss you more in my dream, the green fruit belonging to the future will taste bitter neem. Bloom wants purple clothes in summer. Although you're gone, I'm not so hard to dress up. The Arctic Jun's poetry group "Summer on My Chest" and "Looking Far"-Arctic Jun and purple came to the early summer synchronously. I fell in love with the neem flower under the tree, but the memory in the crown is so bitter. I looked at the nectar of bees under the tree, and another tree became the horizon. I have no choice but to wait, because waiting is the perfect search. I hope to wait for someone to come under the tree. Summer on my chest, summer on my chest-Xia Yun on my chest is crying and venting here. You completely wet my hair. I know that I have always been your silent confidant, and I comforted you in autumn, winter and spring. This is your beauty. However, many people don't understand that you are sunny and don't know what color you are. They hid in the air-conditioned room. Laughing at your heat under the electric fan, Arctic Jun's poems "Summer Lying on My Chest" and "Wild Grapes"-Arctic Jun's books, where can I wait for my hope except summer? Green is everywhere, and a few full thoughts climb high, so that all forces can spread as much as possible. Shan Ye wants you to choose the dark ones. Brilliant Eyes Arctic Jun's poem "Affectionate Helan Mountain"-Arctic Jun's poem "Affectionate Helan Mountain" has been circulated like a poem for 5,000 years, and it has not changed the morning and noon when drinking snow and swallowing rain. This summer, you still fall in love with the trees beside you like tender leaves, your figure is as vigorous and affectionate as Helan Mountain, and your thoughts are like indigo. I try to see the snow in hot summer. The frost valley on your ancient peak has been frozen in the past years. The poem "Blue Yinchuan" by an Arctic gentleman wrote that spring has gradually turned into summer rain, which is a season when silver melts blue and dresses up Helan Mountain. You are still so ignorant in your mother's arms. In this morning, naughty tears and wisps of fog and white clouds were painted indigo like fairies. Windy afternoon is a kind of weather. I like to watch the white clouds in the sky and the wind chasing up the roof to touch the temperature of the wind, but it breaks the lonely poem "Ran" of the golden sunset-the Arctic gentleman is willing to meet the blazing light. Light up a brighter green for the ivy. I will quietly drive away a dark cloud on the horizon, let my bad mood sink into a sad creek, make the whole sky clean, and make my mood soft and white in the afternoon. So I walked on the wooden bridge and looked at the fish in the clear water stream. Ask the fish if I still remember the idea that suddenly occurred to me in the rainy lane yesterday, and there is no appointment. This summer, I still came to ask when the bitter green fruit will let me pick purple sweet. However, I can only touch your eyes every time, but I can't catch my mind. I wander under the green vines. Waiting for your arrival, give me a midsummer care. Arctic gentleman's poem "Passing by the Sea in front of your door"-Arctic gentleman is holding a night wet by heavy rain. As the lightning of time comes to your door, long-lost memories begin to flood in an instant. Dreams are too far away, and the footsteps of searching for the horizon are too sad. I call to the sky to let you have love. Even if you wait for a thousand years, will it be sweet to cross the sea in front of your door and see too much helpless love? Life needs miracles. Legend has it that the deeper the love, the more lingering the poems of the Arctic monarch.
3. Modern poems in summer are created and learned, and those who know them cry.
Crickets scream in the music,
It's day and night in summer,
A season of our own.
The trees are mottled,
The birds are twittering about something,
An ant slipped past,
Walk quickly into your own cave,
It seems that I am afraid of tanning half!
The night sky is dotted with stars,
Beidou still shines,
Suddenly,
Stars are constantly floating in the bamboo forest.
They fluttered their wings,
Let's cheer for them all summer.
Four lines of poems about summer written by myself frequently appear under the stars and in front of the curtain.
Look at your frown, still struggling.
His mouth peep out one silk smile:
"I always dream that I am in this world.
Generous chest and shoulders, sweating like a pig ...
I feel the grassland behind my ears is like sea water.
A familiar and indifferent smell. "
The hair is a little long and a little lane.
Just like the stamens of calamus in the past.
Eyebrows are still small and gentle.
Wrinkle at any time because of happiness
Eyes swaying like summoning light
All imagination and pursuit
Burning inside, burning up.
The last drop of illusion and truth in my heart
"At the ends of the earth, farthest, farthest.
Place, the spring rain has tilted.
New leaves of trees and bedside clock. "
In the crowd, often.
Judging by the color and style of clothes
Xiangyuezai Mulan wine shop
It's at Chuiyang Pier, behind the peaches.
Under the lotus, between the sheets.
The setting sun shines on the levee and colorful satin.
The returning birds flitted across your eyes.
Summer is over, summer.
Hidden in the collision mountains.
Sweat sank into the rolling river.
"Then go through the separation, the whole autumn.
It's all yours. I'm in Hong Kong.
Think silently, it belongs to you. "
Then I don't know why.
Forget all the promises.
Wake up in front of a stranger's mirror
Frowning and smiling, some limbs are weak.