Poems about the green slate 1. Poems about sunshine and bluestone tablets
1.
quartzite
Slate has no memory,
Wet and dirty.
Lying quietly,
Passers-by pass by
The dust in that crack turned into soil,
The soil is covered with moss,
Tell you the year when it rained.
Mayflies fly on the green slate,
You see, this is life.
Sunshine,
Mayflies or dust lying on a slate?
The moss on the slate is dry,
Chapped and torn paper rolls,
The stripping time proves that,
Curled up, turned into dirt again.
Lying bluestone,
This only testimony,
You don't know anything,
Now is not the time to snicker.
Where is it hidden?
2.
encounter
A few days ago.
It's raining in the alley
I am holding an umbrella.
Wet to meet you.
I'm looking for
You're running away.
Qingshiban road
Your love slips away
I picked it up.
3.
Walk alone
I left early on my own.
Until the lonely grass is accompanied by the wind
The sky is clear.
The sea is blue, too
2. Will Qingshi Road be slippery? My road twists and turns, passing through an empty valley sheltered from the wind.
Qingshi road will not slip;
Blue slate belongs to sedimentary rocks (limestone). With the different burial conditions of rocks and the mixing of other impurities such as copper, iron, manganese, nickel and other metal oxides, various colors are formed. The scientific name of bluestone slab is limestone, which is the most widely distributed rock among water rocks. It is produced all over the country, and its main components are calcium carbonate, clay, silicon dioxide and magnesium oxide.
When the content of silica is high, the hardness of slate is also high. Slate has a bulk density of 1000 ~ 2600kg/m3 and a compressive strength of 10 ~ 100 MPa. It is soft and easily weathered.
Artistic conception My path has a wound, through a sheltered valley age ancient poetry;
The beauty of winding paths leading to seclusion
On a pure morning, near the ancient temple, the early sunshine points to the treetops.
A winding path leads to a hidden place, and the Buddhist temple is surrounded by branches and flowers.
Here, birds live in the mountain light, and people's hearts feel quiet in the pond.
All is silent here, but the bell is ringing.
Entering the ancient temple in the morning, the rising sun shines on the tall pine forest and walks on the winding path. At the end of the secluded garden, there are lush flowers and trees, hiding quaint and tall meditation rooms. The beauty of the winding path lies not only in enjoying the tranquility of the winding path, but also in the sense of tranquility brought by the meditation room at the end. What attracts us is to explore the unknown beauty.
Reading these ancient poems, we can get inner peace, just like getting rid of the noise of the world of mortals and getting our own quiet corner, which brings us an extremely quiet and beautiful feeling.
3. Description of Qingshiban Road
The road seems to be very old and dark blue, and the passage of time has left a deep mark on it.
Slowly, slowly, extend into the distance. This place may be quiet. It's really hard to find a quiet place in Fenghuang ancient town.
It has long been full of secular and charming fragrance. And this quiet alley was discovered by accident.
Here, the thick water vapor in the south of the Yangtze River, like an ancient ink painting, makes people feel calm and simple. On both sides of the road are some old houses, blue-gray eaves and dripping eaves. The low corners are covered with moss and smell damp.
Walking on a long road, I suddenly saw some Miao grandmothers carrying bamboo baskets and holding some garlands in their hands. The garland may have been soaked in the Tuojiang River, which is clear and still occupies some glittering and translucent water drops.
They spoke Miao language that I didn't quite understand and walked briskly. Black cloth shoes stepped on the bluestone road, and there was no sound. Walk slowly, walk slowly, so there is no end.
I suddenly remembered the girl who was as sad as cloves in Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane. Lilac color, lilac fragrance, lilac sadness.
I guess that girl must have clear eyes. She will be so quiet, like a standing kapok. Now, I am the only one in the whole alley. Close my eyes, and the refreshing wind is blowing from me, with the unique moist breath of Jiangnan, blowing my thin hair in the wind.
Seeing a mossy bridge, I walked up and suddenly felt time to go back. Back in the stormy Song Dynasty, I became a poet, standing on the bridge with my gown standing in the wind. Light smoke, light fog, light scenery, light people.
Behind the carved ebony window frame, I am afraid that Iraqis who used to be like water vapor in the south of the Yangtze River will lament when the window faces the moon. Blue walls, blue eaves, blue roads, blue dreams.
The water vapor that has shrouded this bluestone road for thousands of years is now vaguely scattered in front of our eyes. Walking, I suddenly felt that the moist breath was mixed with a faint fragrance.
I crouched down and saw patches of jagged weeds growing on the edge of the wet corner. Among the weeds, there are two small plain wildflowers with milky white and slightly blue stamens. A faint fragrance, a shallow blue, and a smile like water in the south of the Yangtze River are blurred among the grass and trees.
The wind is still blowing quietly and the whole road is so quiet. Suddenly I heard a string of silvery laughter and looked up. It turned out to be several beautiful Miao sisters, singing beautiful Miao folk songs in their mouths, and the high silver ornaments on their heads echoed with their beats, making a crisp sound.
Walking on this road, I think: this bluestone road has experienced thousands of years of wind and rain, and I don't know how many people have walked like me and walked slowly. Maybe a touch can shake off the whole story.
Young people with thin sunshine, lilac-like girls, and them, the old people who accompanied the ancient town through the wind and frost. They sit at the door, pulling some home-cooked dishes, or planning meals for their families after a busy day in the kitchen.
In a blink of an eye, the smoke from the kitchen filled the whole alley. Go any further and you will come to the end.
I turned around and watched the sunset burn the whole sky, but the dark bluestone road continued to extend into the distance and was finally submerged in the last afterglow. The last bluestone road My dad called and said that the last bluestone road in town was also replaced by cement road, so it is convenient to drive home in the future.
There is joy in the tone. Putting down the phone, I can't help but sigh: the last Qingshi Road has finally disappeared in the construction of modern civilization.
In my childhood, I liked to run and jump barefoot on the quiet bluestone board in the town. When the soft sole touches the hard and smooth bluestone, a coolness will spread from the cool and slippery sole to the heart, and then spread from the heart to the whole body.
The wind always passes through the alley at the right time, leaving a faint fragrance of flowers. Stretching out tender little hands, chasing the rain, swallows happily slipped through a long string of transparent rain curtains under the smoky gray eaves, and pearl-like raindrops jumped naughtily on the delicate skin.
Crotalosaurus braided his hair up and down with the glittering spray, swinging from side to side, chasing and playing. The skirt covered with small flowers blooms delicate pink flowers on the wet and shiny bluestone board, which is in sharp contrast with the ancient gloomy town.
Rain is really the best pianist, playing the sounds of nature for my childhood and the quiet alleys on the gray ripples. The green moss in the corrugated room was attracted, and the birds hiding from the rain under the eaves couldn't help fiddling around, as if to break free from all constraints and join the carnival in the rain.
Up to now, every time I think of that scene, the coolness will still come to my heart, and the joy will still ripple in my brow. However, my father's joy deeply hurt my homesickness that I couldn't find in my heart.
I don't know or understand my father's deep feelings for this bluestone road, and I never dare to ask. It is said that this bluestone road was built by Kuomintang troops during the Anti-Japanese War. During this period, a handful of desperate Japanese soldiers destroyed the peace of the town.
Grandma, as a good family, was frightened and crazy by the inhuman Japanese soldiers on Qingshi Road. I remember that when my grandfather was alive, I was never allowed to play on this bluestone road, but when I was a child, I naturally couldn't understand why my grandfather who loved me so much would arrogantly deprive me of my rare happiness.
My father, brother and sister were born after my grandmother went crazy. I can't imagine how my father grew up. My father never wanted to mention it, and he never heard of it from my uncle and aunt. Although grandma instinctively takes care of the child as a hen loves a chick, she refuses to breastfeed the child.
After grandma went crazy, grandpa left the store behind. He is addicted to smoking and drinking all day, and his family is getting worse. In the end, he even sold his grandmother's dowry in exchange for wine money, and finally ended his drinking life early. However, in the days of growing up, grandma unexpectedly became sober and not so crazy, but she never walked on Qingshi Road or passed by. Until her death, people carefully carried her on the broken bluestone road and staggered out of peace.
4. Qingyan Poetry
The buildings in the ancient town are built on the mountain, with reasonable layout, exquisite stone carving and wood carving skills, containing many myths and legends and strong local characteristics. It's amazing. The criss-crossing bluestone roads and winding narrow lanes, ancient stone counters and wooden counters on both sides, small coffins carved between doors and windows, and stone lions hanging upside down on the stone square are all fascinating. Strolling into a street named "Back", I immediately felt the strong distance between time and space. The road paved with bluestone slabs and the wall built with bluestone slabs are like a just visiting built with slate slabs. Surprisingly, there are ancient temples, solemn Catholic churches and Christian churches in the small ancient town, which can be called "the coexistence of three religions" Standing on the fixed light door, from a distance, the spire church faces the towering centenarian square. The contradiction between eastern and western cultures exists reasonably and uniformly in small towns. On the first and fifteenth day of the first lunar month, incense is constantly burning in temples, and people who go to church on Sunday are also in an endless stream. It is not surprising that there are many religious sites in remote places. Surprisingly, the townspeople's innate tolerance and generosity towards foreign things make religious beliefs that do not belong to this world flourish here. Standing on the rostrum of Qingyan Town, the church with spires is solemn. You don't think they are abrupt, but what you feel is the asymmetric beauty of a jagged culture, just like hollowed-out flower windows, glass bricks and colorful modern goods, revealing the constant pull and confusion of history and reality. The best thing about Qingyan is the simple folk customs that modern people dream of. When you are tired, the townspeople will move out their chairs to let you rest. When you are thirsty, I will serve you a bowl of cool Kuding tea and tell you a story about Qingyan, which will relieve your spirit. All this can be enjoyed at will. If you insist on giving money, "just take a little" or "just a few dollars" will make you like this town from the bottom of your heart.
In other words, there are Buddhism, Catholicism and Christianity in the town, and it is impossible to know how this phenomenon of "coexistence of the three religions" has been preserved in the long history. However, according to people in the town, the incense in the temple will not be broken on the first and fifteenth day of the first month, and people who go to church on Sunday are also in an endless stream. Apart from temples and churches, the most cultural representative in the town is probably the well-preserved ancient archway. It is said that there used to be eight stone arches in this ancient town. Due to historical reasons, there are only three places left, namely "Zhao Baisui Square" outside the north gate, "Zhao Ethics Baisui Square" inside the south gate and "Daughter-in-law Liu Jiexiao Square" near Dingguangmen. Among them, the festival in Xiaoxin Square is the most atmospheric, and even a royal plaque is embedded above the square. More dramatically, a church representing western culture has been built. The high spire has stood for a hundred years, and this uneven and asymmetrical beauty is rendered in the whole cultural atmosphere with strong contrast, so the seemingly fierce cultural and religious conflicts here are unprecedented, and people have to sigh how amazing the cultural inclusiveness of this tiny place is.
Huang Laobo, a celebrity in Qingyan, visited the legendary well-Honey Spring. The Huang family used the water in this well to make the famous "yellow rose candy" in Guizhou. There are two wells in Huang's yard, one of which is low in terrain, and the water inside is generally used for washing, while the other is relatively high in terrain. The stone tablet at the wellhead is engraved with the word "honey spring". It's refreshing I couldn't help drinking the whole bowl at one go. Qingyan's rose candy is very famous around, and this rose candy sells best in Huang's family. This well turned out to be good. Can the rose sugar made of this water be sweet?
5. Lyrics of "Green Slate"
[Original] Green Board
Lyrics of Green Board/Meng Hua
Hometown impression,
The most unforgettable thing is the alley in front of my house.
Long covered with bluestone slabs,
Turned a corner,
The direction of unlimited fun.
/
The impression of the alley,
The most unforgettable thing is 108 green slate.
Long time symbolizes the growth of life.
Turned a corner,
Full of yearning for the world of flowers and flowers.
/
One year old, two years old and three years old,
Counting bluestones year after year,
The traces of childhood are engraved on the slate.
One, two, three,
Step by step on the green flag,
Finally one day I packed my bags.
/
/
With the joy of childhood,
I went back to my hometown,
Alley or alley,
There's just no bluestone.
6. Poems describing Gu Xiang when it rains.
Gu Xiang, who is teetering in the wind and rain.
I can hear the bluestone crying in the alley.
It carries a heavy cultural heritage.
The history of the ancient city of Cang Sang
Witnessed the changes of the times in one side of the land.
Every time I walk down an alley,
Pedal slate
You can hear it silently.
This is too painful.
It's really sad
Telling the past glory of this ancient city.
The helplessness of modern people
People in a hurry
I failed to hear the whole story.
Now the bluestone in the alley is really old.
Forgotten in that cold corner