An ancient poem about scenery (whole poem)

Drink Tao Yuanming

Building a house is human, and there are no horses and chariots.

Ask what you can do, your heart is far from self-prejudice.

Picking chrysanthemums under the east fence, you can see Nanshan leisurely.

The mountains are getting better and better, and the birds are back.

That makes sense. I forgot what I wanted to say.

Wang Wei is in Chai Lu.

No one can be seen in the silent valley, only the voice is heard.

Go back to the depths of the forest and shine at me from the green moss.

Wang Wei, Bird Watching Creek

People are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and empty.

When the moon comes out, the birds are startled, and the sound enters the spring stream.

Zhu wangwei

I leaned alone in the dense bamboo, playing the piano and humming a song.

It's too light for anyone to hear, except my partner, Mingyue.

Meng Haoran in the spring dawn

Don't learn from the dawn in spring sleep. Birds are singing everywhere around me.

How many flowers fall after a stormy night.

Meng Haoran at night on Jiande River

Stop the boat in a foggy small state, when new worries come to the guest's heart.

The vastness of the wilderness is deeper than trees, and the moon is very close to the moon.

Wang Wei, a mountain dweller in autumn

The empty mountains are bathed in a new rain, and feel the early autumn at night.

The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks.

The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.

Spring spring might as well give it a rest, and the autumn sun can stay on the hills for a long time.

Wang Wei is in the mountains.

The stream of the river has been flowing for less than a day, and white stones are exposed on the riverbed. The weather is getting colder and the red leaves on the branches are becoming scarce.

There is no rain on the winding mountain road, the smoke is misty in the dense pine trees, and the water vapor is heavy, as if to flow, and then the clothes of passers-by.

Meng Haoran, passing by the old people's village

This old friend prepared a delicious meal and invited me to his hospitable farm.

Green Woods surround the village and green hills are located outside the city.

Open the window facing the valley vegetable garden and pass the glass to talk about crops.

Please come here to see chrysanthemums when the ninth festival comes.