The poem about writing is 1. Poetry about writing.
Su Shi saw a bright moon in Wang Anshi's poem, and the yellow dog was lying in the flower heart, just like being () () () () ()-() () () () () () () () () () () [Fill in the two-part allegorical sayings]. What's the name of the moon? The yellow dog can't sleep on the flower heart! So he began to change two words and made the poem into a bright moon (picture) and a yellow dog lying in the sky (shadow). Su Shi prides himself on his escort and propriety. A few years later, Su Shi was demoted to Huangzhou. One evening, Su Shi was enjoying the cool in the yard when a bug flew overhead. His people told him that this is a specialty of Huangzhou, named Yue Ming, and Su Shi heard about it. The servant said, "my Lord, this is also a unique insect here." Su Shi sighed: "I am just (dull) (learned) (shallow), but I still pretend to be a hero." It's really (shame) (shame) (when) Hu changed the poem of Prime Minister Wang.
Step 2 write a poem
Su Shi saw a bright moon in Wang Anshi's poem, and the yellow dog was lying in the flower heart, just like being () () () () ()-() () () () () () () () () () () [Fill in the two-part allegorical sayings]. What's the name of the moon? The yellow dog can't sleep on the flower heart! So he began to change two words and made the poem into a bright moon (picture) and a yellow dog lying in the sky (shadow). Su Shi prides himself on his escort and propriety. A few years later, Su Shi was demoted to Huangzhou. One evening, Su Shi was enjoying the cool in the yard when a bug flew overhead. His people told him that this is a specialty of Huangzhou, named Yue Ming, and Su Shi heard about it. The servant said, "my Lord, this is also a unique insect here." Su Shi sighed: "I am just (dull) (learned) (shallow), but I still pretend to be a hero." It's really (shame) (shame) (when) Hu changed the poem of Prime Minister Wang.
3. Write and draw your similar ancient sentences all your life.
The vast land is broken with a sword, and the prosperity is gone. Leaning against the clouds hides loneliness, even if others laugh at me.
Let him know everything and smile for you.
Send a song to you, don't invite people to get together at the end of the song.
Who scattered the smoke, who scattered the vertical and horizontal ties.
Listen to the string and break three thousand infatuations. Falling flowers, forgetting, once the wind rippled. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips.
There are trees on the mountain and branches on the tree. My heart likes you. You don't know that.
Whoever forgets each other first, dumping the country is the old country. I refuse to play. Shadows are amazing.
Once upon a time, there were tall buildings that sang at night and had dancing sleeves on them.
When all the flowers and waves are gone, I will be alone with you.
Spring goes and spring comes, beauty is old, flowers fall and people die.
Still water, singing; Three lives are sunny and round, one sad and one happy.
Lights and stars, sounds and songs are endless.
As beautiful as flowers and pure as jade, I can go back to the past, but I can't go back to the beginning.
Dark clouds cover the moon, people can't see anywhere, and they can't tell how lonely they are.
This time I left you, it was the wind, the rain and the night; You smiled, I waved, and a lonely road spread to both ends.
The sky is not old, and the love is hard to break. The heart is like a double screen with a Qian Qian knot in it.
Like this star is not last night, for whom the wind and dew stand in the middle of the night.
Ten years of life and death are two boundless, I don't think about it, I will never forget it, I am alone in a grave, and there is nowhere to talk.
Butterflies are beautiful. After all, butterflies can't fly across the sea.
Finally, the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River covered the whole world. After the glory of China, it was just a scene, and the mountains and rivers were silent forever.
Elegance refers to quicksand, and old age is a period of time.
Hand over mountains and rivers and smile for you.
A few sighs, a bit of joys and sorrows.
My life is up to me, which is ridiculous.
The passage of time
Dream back into the water.
Watch the fireworks bloom into a full moon.
The fog cleared and I woke up. I finally saw the truth. This is the silence that Qian Fan spent.
At both ends of life, we stand on each other's shore.
The fate of gathering and parting is like water, just for a word, waiting for the next encounter.
Looking at the sun and the moon that day, there was silence. Green mountains and green waters, stretching from generation to generation; Just like in my heart, you never left, never changed.
That's it, mountains and rivers will never see each other again.
Never look back, why not?
Since there is no chance, there is no need to call names.
Today, everything is like water.
Tomorrow night, you will be a stranger.
My heart is moving, but I feel far away. Things are wrong, people are wrong, things are wrong, and the past cannot be traced.
Maybe it was a marriage in a previous life.
Maybe this is the fate of the afterlife.
Wrong is wrong. Meet in this life.
Add a feud without results.
Always born in a casual year. Look back at the other side. Even if it is found that the situation is longer.
4. Pen and ink poetry
Huanxisha
Year: Song Author: Xin Qiji
Skillful hands without axes and scars. A good place full of ginseng is success. Just as spring enters Huanhua Village. Tonight, the pen and ink are clear, and the orchestral is silent. The host sits at two eyebrows.
It's a pity that this day is a pity.
Year: Song Author: Huang Ji
It's a pity, but I'm worried about Cui Wei. Jianghuai traveled all over the world, who will come after knowing each other. Every time I sigh at wine, I smile at lace, so I can guess. When you meet, there are guests in the dust.
There are too many talents who take off the Confucian laurels and write martial arts. Pen and ink debate, hook halberd easy to reach Yuntai. Why did Yu Zi change hands? He kept his life in his heart and dared to wander. Career is a stone, and human joys and sorrows.
Partridge sky news section plum yellow
Year: Song Author:
The news branch is plum yellow. These two palaces are brewing a kind lake. Chang Geng is a brilliant writer and a good companion. The golden duck is warm and the jade cup is fragrant. Change the goose pen and ink to get drunk. Just name it Princess, and you will be in harmony with the Jade Emperor.
Send a long message to Cui Dao in autumn
Year: Tang Author: Yao He
The poor bird is noisy and quiet and strange. I can't sleep at night, and I smell the dew in the empty court.
There is a glass of wine next to it, as happy as a guest. The moonlight shone for a long time, making it as white as ink.
Life is full of ambition, but it is hard to do so. Hard as it is, you'd better do it yourself.
An old friend lives in a mountain, and good governance is a living policy. If you don't taste grain, you are more leisurely and quiet than a monk.
I am temporarily peaceful, and I call myself out of sadness. You are long and carefree, and the sun and the moon compete for the old.
"Er Yun Zi James J.S.Wong's Interpretation of Listening to Classics"
Year: Song Author: Huang Tingjian
The letter is crimson and concise, and the inch field house can be immortal.
Before Gao Zhen took over joy chen, the girl came to pay tribute to Ada.
Golden pheasant wants to be fully formed, and everything swings in autumn.
What is the fate of modeling? Su Li's pen and ink are wonderful and natural.
The book of all souls has been handed over, and the person who fears flying is not the person.
When Liv hid nine deep caves, the following week told me to deal with them, and Xiao Wei tried to keep me awake.
5. Poetry related to pen and ink
Draw a fan play for Chen Zifu
Author: Wen Zhiming
Changsongyin plateau, empty pavilion to write Qing Ba.
The heavy sunset mountain suddenly fell into a talk.
My life is full of sadness, and I am tired of dust.
Yesterday, I started to write and brush my ears.
I also know that if you don't cure hunger, it's unusual to be lonely.
Like a fish blowing foam, you don't know why.
The world doesn't understand, ridicule and draw history.
However, each has its own needs, and there are several kinds of surplus situations.
Socks are really disgusting. It is a shame to study and suck.
After ten days of writing, you will never get enough paper.
Friends are strange, slow-witted, and often irritated.
I am a scholar, but I cannot be vulgar.
Draw a stone in five days and a water in ten days.
Although there is no killer, this case can be relied on.
Who is Chen Jun? He is also inferior.
A fan is five years old, and this burden is really slow.
We are afraid of being angry, and you are happy.
Thank you with a smile. You are better than the second son and the third son.
Professor Huang Wu Ohchi's farewell picture of Songjiang.
Author: Liu Song
It is He Shan's recklessness that makes trouble happen.
The sky is low, the river is about to fall, but another meaning is in the boundless.
Who is the author of this picture? Huang Daqi, an old man in eastern Zhejiang.
Mr. Songjiang's old confidant, his eyes are shining for writing Qiu Jiangzi.
The bank of the heavy slope is far in the southeast, and the sawdust is uneven and layered.
Cangpu is far from Chuzeshen, and Shilin takes Wudi turn.
It's time for Mr. Wang to return from now on and blow his fishing desire to the cloud nine.
After a long storm, the reeds are clean and the water is light.
Just now, I am a guest in Yunzhou, and I am disappointed that Songjiang faces each other across the cloud.
I'm still crazy about geese. I walked over the cliff.
I think I am big and stupid, but my pen and ink are often strange.
Grass clothes ride like cattle and snow, and flute recalls Tiantai Mountain.
Life events, princes laugh at dust.
The exhibition is sitting opposite Fengshan Green, and I want to be emotional through the ages.
You don't know fame and fortune, Chang 'an is getting farther and farther.
The spring grass is green in front of Baling Pavilion, and the spring breeze waves under Baling Pavilion.
Inscribe "Tibetan color landscape map"
Author: Gong Kui
Lying alone, I woke up and dreamed of Wanshan.
The window is full of smoke and the smile is close at hand.
Beautiful makeup, resplendent and magnificent.
Su Bo is as clean as a mirror, and the green apple refers to the creek bay.
Beautiful pen and ink workers, this appearance means leisure.
Lonely birds stand around the beach and fishing boats come from a distance.
We were tired of the market, so we sat opposite and forgot to eat.
Andrew has a leaf under the forest. He lives deep in the door.
Dawu
Author: Zheng Yi
Bo Gu read my poem and turned around to sing.
Tomorrow I will follow my door and be congenial to my poems.
It's strange to read it for the first time, such as recording 10 thousand ghost prisoners.
Pen and ink are strong, and paper is flowing.
When I think about it, there is no carving in the sky.
If you fall, you can't stand up again.
The rest of the words are clumsy, flawed and full of sores and warts.
But like an ugly old woman, I am ashamed to see this mirror.
Good words are read backwards, but they are not what you want to say.
Help the tree rot and make it Hannah Quinlivan Mountain.
I want to sing his palace, too, so that my business can be trusted.
Fighting is like thunder, and there are more and more straight roads and suburbs.
Being a child is easy, but I'd rather not.
Force the enemy to submit, and you will be rewarded.
Chu Hanweng, for example, painted the land as a gap.
I'm wrong. Why should I be a spear?
I have seen it when I am lucky, and I have heard it when I sing high.
I write essays and poems for young people.
I always hope to find a little light to illuminate the youth that is not necessarily dazzling.
-inscription 1. Love can't find any familiar smell in the complicated street. So, I think the world is really terrible.
I have been struggling and wandering in the emotional world, trying to find a way out. The imprint of youth is deep, but the memory of feelings is always shallow.
Perhaps, it has been hiding inadvertently for some time. Seeing the separation and combination in the world, some people will feel that it is a kind of helplessness in life.
In fact, many times, feelings are just a pale existence. Just like everyone who is still immersed in the damage caused by love, he is still trying to change things again and again, knowing that he can't change anything before the end.
(article reading network:) I have always believed that feelings are very tired. Parting or parting, or hurting or hurting, it often can't give a person everything he wants, but it is so overbearing that it demands everything that a person can't accept.
Behind the yearning is pain, behind the strength is loneliness, and behind the hope is only despair. Afternoon sunshine, quiet street, a "bad boy", singing a gentle song for only one person.
This is a fantasy scene for all girls. This is just a simple love, clear and sad.
This kind of love has gone deep into the soul, even beyond it. I used to work hard and be persistent, thinking that I would eventually get that kind of self-righteous happiness after using it all my life, but in fact, I am ashamed of my happiness all over the place.
Loneliness is sometimes really amazing, so quiet and peaceful. Time, flowing forward vigorously, leaving only memories.
The tears I once shed are still vividly imprinted in my mind, with pain that cannot be expressed in words. Once I cried, shed tears in front of love, but finally I couldn't even touch shameful happiness.
I can't forget my pain, and I can't forget how depressed I was in love. I even inadvertently tried to touch love with my own tears, touching the heart that never beat for me. Looking back now, even if I touched love with tears, that kind of love can only be a kind of sympathy, a kind of pity.
Now I have learned to be strong and not to cry in front of love. But the person I once loved, she has faded out of my sight for a long time
These days, I always want to tell her that I learned to love from loneliness, and we will always be in tears. At this moment, I wrote down the bitterness of love.
I have been trying to comfort myself with time. The passage of time is not disappearing or getting old, but the dust of some things and the maturity of my mentality. I know, I'm not a good recorder.
Many things that I thought I would never forget in my life were slowly forgotten on this unforgettable day. I like looking back on the road I have traveled more than anyone else.
I like to stop, stop and look back, quietly recall, quietly taste ... February snow, March flowers, the noise and brightness of the world, the happiness and happiness of the world. These, like clear streams, flow through my heart.
Warm, like sunshine. I didn't expect anything when I came. I just want to see you happy and not sad on your face.
I like to hide in a certain period of time and miss the memories left by a certain period of time. However, time, or leave me, with a bang.
Perhaps, at this age, sadness is the endorsement of youth. Only by crying, laughing and hurting can we understand the meaning of happiness better.
Before happiness, youth is like a grand sacrifice, which begins with silence and expectation and ends with desolation and despair. This period of time is long and short.
The beginning and the end are all done in a silent posture, but experience and feeling are two postures. I have been thinking, how did my youth, my eighteen years old, begin and end? Like all lost vagrants, I wandered in a strange city. You appear behind me inadvertently. Time is like the wind, blowing forward with your breath. Maybe many years later, when I begin to recall, I will remember that I was eighteen years old that year.
I have been drifting, remembering, and I don't know where to stay and where to end. I have always been used to being a quiet child, smiling, crying, lost and sad alone.
I used to squat down and look at the traces of time on the ground. Walk through my memory like rows of ants.
And it always takes a long time. Although I want to fill the gap for a period of time with all I have, one day, at a certain place and time, I heard a voice saying, "Son, you are only one day away from death." I began to become scared and helpless, standing on the busy street, unable to look around.
What seems to have been missed at the moment of looking back, such as what and who, what you see in your eyes is always a hasty step and a vague back. However, this back, in memory, seems so clear ... Memory is like fine sand, flowing slowly through your fingers.
Those memories with rotten breath drift quietly from the long river of time. I'm trying to forget, or I've been forgetting.
Keep those people and things away from my time. Youth in memory, bitter love, lost time.
I tried to collect those warm photos. I want to use the happiest words throughout the whole eighteen years.
But it was all in vain. These cold pictures seem to be firmly frozen, and I left a good time for my youth.
At this moment, I wrote down my understanding of time. I have gradually forgotten some people and things in my school days.
But the occasional flash of reunion, a familiar greeting and miss, can still evoke that crazy and warm past. Also, the memory of my school days.
Those dreams in my school days are like faded movies, leaving only yellowed photos. Romance and beauty in the past As time goes by, only a thin boy and a sad girl are left in the photo.
No one remembers when they met, when they left and when they came back. Their stories are like weeds swept away by time.