Plum golden apricot fat, wheat white, cauliflower thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, but dragonflies and butterflies can fly
Early summer is the season when plums are golden and apricots are plump. The ears of wheat are covered with white flowers, and almost all rape flowers are falling and bearing seeds. The days in summer are very long, no one passes the fence, everyone is busy in the fields, only dragonflies and butterflies are dancing leisurely.
2. Tang people: Jiao Ran, no Lu Hongxian at home.
He moved his home to the city wall and the country road to Sang Ma's residence.
The chrysanthemum near the fence has not been seen in autumn.
There was no dog barking at the door, so I asked my neighbors in the west.
His neighbor reported that he went to the mountains and always wanted to reflect the sunset on the western hills when he came back.
He moved his home to the city wall, where the country road leads to Sang Ma. Chrysanthemums are planted near the fence, but they don't bloom in autumn. I haven't heard the dog barking since knocking at the door. I'm going to ask about my neighbors in the west. The neighbor replied that he had gone to the mountains, fearing that it would be dusk when he came back.
3. "Passing the Old Village" Tang Dynasty: Meng Haoran
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.
My old friend prepared a sumptuous dinner and invited me to visit him in Tian She. Green Woods surround the village, and a green hill leans vaguely outside the city wall. Pushing open the window to face the threshing floor and vegetable garden, drinking wine and chatting about farming. The Double Ninth Festival is coming, and I will come here to see chrysanthemums.
4, "Tour Shanxi Village" Song Dynasty: Lu You
Don't laugh at the farmhouse music brewed in the muddled month. In the harvest month, the dishes for guests are very rich.
There is no way to go because of the winding water flow in the mountains, and a mountain village suddenly appears in the willow-green flower bay.
The day of playing flute and drums is approaching, and the villagers are still dressed simply.
In the future, if you can go out in the moonlight, I will knock on your door at any time with my cane.
Don't laugh at the muddy wine brewed in the twelfth lunar month. The harvest year is very bumper. The mountains overlap and the water twists and turns, worrying that there is no way out. Suddenly, a mountain village appeared between willows and flowers. The day of playing the flute and drums for the Spring Festival Club is coming, and the simple ancient style is still preserved. In the future, if I can go out for a walk in the bright moonlight, I will definitely knock on your door at any time with a cane.
5. My retreat in Zhongnanshan Tang Dynasty: Wang Wei
After middle age, I have a strong kind heart, and I didn't settle down at the edge of Mount Zhongnan until my later years.
Interest concentration is often unique to play and have a happy thing to enjoy self-appreciation.
Sometimes go to the end of the water to seek the source, or sit and watch the ever-changing clouds rise.
Occasionally I met a village elder in the Woods, and I chatted with him until I often forgot to go home.
After middle age, I had a strong desire to do good, and I didn't settle in the border of Zhongnanshan until my later years. When I am interested, I often go to play alone. When I am happy, I also have a good time and indulge myself. Sometimes go to the end of the water to seek the source, or sit and watch the rising clouds change. I happened to meet a village elder in the Woods. I talked and laughed with him and often forgot to go home.
2. Poetry about the countryside 1 Children in the countryside: "March in the countryside is far from memory" I have to admit that although Xiang is still nestled in the sea of rape blossoms, the countryside in March is really far from memory, hunting snails, catching bees and chasing Huang Die.
Playing with the newly awakened earth, or stringing peach petals and hanging spring around the neck is no longer the childhood of rural children. Now, they are more willing to give themselves to the TV and shut out spring with their mothers who are closer to mahjong than mud. 2. Rural Youth: "He is not welcome in spring" He once sang spring in children's voices and tilted his vision to the balance of rural campuses. The spring breeze without melting rain and the hard gardener who greeted him are barren rural fields. He can't grow into a big tree and run to the city all his life. He scattered like dust on the assembly line of the factory and returned to beginning of spring with the tide of migrant workers in Spring Festival travel rush. He is not as popular as firecrackers in spring. The purse was empty for several years in a row, which was enough to blow him to pieces. 65,438+08 years old, barely patching up the future. It's too far. His thin youth is really not as green as the new grass behind the house. 3. Rural women: "The sun shines obliquely on the south window", which is suitable for picking cotton in the afternoon. Brother's sweat evaporated on the scaffolding in the city. Sister-in-law and sister-in-law are sitting at home in the sun. Speaking of the trouble that the sun can't shine, the urea saved in Big Brother's teeth is not worth the two storms in summer. Those fallen cotton buds, those who can't wait to be white, yellow and purple, are dead. All my sister-in-law's expectations are complaining that more than ten acres of land are too light to pry her son's college expenses. Why don't we leave the hoe together next year, stay away from the dirt and go to Guangdong and go to the garment factory? 3. Country old man: ◎ Mother-in-law in the cotton field, you said that three feet of cotton lured you into the cotton field that year. This progress has been almost sixty years, and you have never come out since you dyed your old moss. There are always so many reasons to stay that several baskets can't hold it. You printed them on your forehead and carved them in the corner of your eyes until your grandson told your grandmother to "don't study hard and grow cotton with me", just like you did then. You said-with threats, stand up straight and tell Miantian your last wish, "I can't walk any further, so don't ask your children for money." In the cotton field, you have become a silver-frosted cotton stalk, the biggest cotton ball. How humble the old farmer who sang in front of the abandoned theater was. These old sparrows in the countryside can't compete with the climate all their lives, and they are looking for food all their lives. Now, they begin to re-examine the theater with wings as old as theirs, and lock themselves in a sad grave with rust. Then a three-step green tree, an erhu and a pair of gongs and drums can also be placed on their stage to place a country drama flowing in blood. The old lady basking in the sun at the door of the old house is walking in the budding heart, with flowers blooming and stumbling at her feet. The old is not just a memory. Now, you like sunshine more and more. You don't talk about rain and snow, but sigh about the war between the house and the mop. Speaking of the liquid "pictures" on the small flower quilt, you like doors and armchairs more and more. You start to give your feet a holiday, pay more attention to the tendons in your hands, and occasionally comb the wind and frost scattered on your head according to the sunshine. We looked at the green trees around your village and the pale blue of the distant mountains.
3. Poems about the countryside 1 Children in the countryside: "March in the countryside is far from memory" I have to admit that although Xiang is still nestled in the sea of rape flowers, the countryside in March is really far from memory, hunting snails, catching bees and chasing Huang Die.
Playing with the newly awakened earth, or stringing peach petals and hanging spring around the neck is no longer the childhood of rural children. Now, they are more willing to give themselves to the TV and shut out spring with their mothers who are closer to mahjong than mud. 2. Rural Youth: "He is not welcome in spring" He once sang spring in children's voices and tilted his vision to the balance of rural campuses. The spring breeze without melting rain and the hard-working gardener who greeted him were abandoned in the countryside fields. He can't grow into a big tree and run to the city all his life. He scattered like dust on the assembly line of the factory and returned to beginning of spring with the tide of migrant workers in Spring Festival travel rush. He is not as popular as firecrackers in spring. The purse was empty for several years in a row, which was enough to blow him to pieces. 65,438+08 years old, barely able to repair the skin and the future. It's too far. His thin youth is really not as green as the new grass behind the house. 3. Rural women: "The sun shines obliquely on the south window", which is suitable for picking cotton in the afternoon. Brother's sweat evaporated on the scaffolding in the city. Sister-in-law and sister-in-law are sitting at home in the sun. Speaking of the trouble that the sun can't shine, the urea saved in my eldest brother's teeth can't stand two storms in summer. Those fallen cotton buds and wind chimes who can't wait for snow, yellow, purple and red are all dead. All my sister-in-law's expectations are complaining that more than ten acres of land are too light to pry her son's college expenses. Why don't we leave the hoe together next year and go to Guangdong to stay away from the soil and go to the clothing factory? 3. Old man in the country: ◎ Mother-in-law in Miantian said that it was almost 60 years since the three-foot flowered foreign cloth lured you into the cotton field. You dyed your hair white and haven't come out yet. There are always so many reasons to stay that several baskets can't hold it. You printed them on your forehead and carved them in the corner of your eyes until your grandchildren told your grandmother to "don't study hard and grow cotton with me" as you did in those years. You say-with intimidation, then stand up straight and tell the cotton field your last wish "when I can't walk". You are a cotton stalk with silver frost and the biggest cotton ball. How humble the old farmer who sings in front of the abandoned theater is. These old sparrows in the countryside can't compete with the climate all their lives, and they are looking for food all their lives. Now, they begin to re-examine the theater with the same aging wings as them, and lock themselves in a sad grave full of rust. They gather around the rust to pursue the shade in winter and are unable to build a grass platform in spring! Then a three-step green tree, an erhu and a pair of gongs and drums can also be placed on their stage to place a country drama flowing in blood. The old lady basking in the sun at the door of the old house is walking in the budding heart, with flowers blooming and stumbling at her feet. The old is not just a memory. Now, you like sunshine more and more. You don't talk about rain and snow, but sigh about the war between the house and the mop. Speaking of the liquid "pictures" on the small flower quilt, you like doors and armchairs more and more. You start to give your feet a holiday, pay more attention to the tendons in your hands, and occasionally comb the wind and frost scattered on your head according to the sunshine. We looked at the green trees around your village and the pale blue of the distant mountains.