Modern poems about Jiangnan 1. Modern Poetry on "Jiangnan"
[Share] "Jiangnan" is selected from Wen Ruian's poetry collection "Records of Mountains and Rivers", an ancient dancer ... Unfortunately, when will old friends come to this life? Are you waiting or should I? I have countless chivalrous feelings and live in the sound of ancient costumes. Poetry is martial arts, candlelight is dancing, and sleepless is a gesture that young Xia misses you. It is light and beautiful, but it is not barren. What I appreciate is the ancient folding fan with a faint landscape, on which several blank ancient dancers are painted ... Today's relaxed and happy dancers ... who look at you with sad eyes, and I am like a Mongolian warrior ............. who shoots sculptures, and even beggars in the capital burn thousands of faces for a dragon flag, dancing in the hot snow. Dancers, will you leave me with lifelong admiration or will you come with me? My future is full of unknowns, struggles and struggles, but I will lose myself at some time every day. I only miss you, an ancient dancer ... when you lose your fingertips and dance for yourself, do you know how many loving eyes there are outside the window? Do you know how many first love stars there are in outer space? Nature is green, petite is red, and you are a touch of nature as white. You smile for the sake of smiling, and you bend down to love jiao, just like the romantic moon on my right knows that falling flowers are more amorous feelings. You love to laugh, but you should know that the breeze is a shy look back. You are afraid that a concentrated note will disturb all Wuling teenagers.
It can be seen that how many lotus ponds did Jiangnan scholars roll their clothes and grind their sleeves to find you? How many silent fights are there in the rivers and lakes that block the road, and how much beauty is needed to make up for how much abrupt history you have completed? You cast poor eyes on me among thousands of people. Only you know that I am watching you. Only this pair of concentration is appreciation. I know you're watching me.
Everyone in Jiangnan is laughing at a surprise ... You have been practicing for ten years and studying for ten years is the most speechless love. If a girl has ten fingers like ten impatiens and a pair of clear and caring eyes, what is the most beautiful girl like? Ancient dancers ... love to laugh and worry, but youth is only once, only once. In the first love, three people met in a narrow pond on a short waterway in the south of the Yangtze River, and they didn't know who the owner was when they walked together. This is Jiangnan's sympathy and love, with more flowers and water, more willows, more bridges and more shores. Strong voices and soft words are all in Jiangnan. The beautiful spring scenery thousands of miles away in the south of the Yangtze River, the ancient dancers in the south of the Yangtze River that the talented people in the south of the Yangtze River can't cross, can't forget ... The most beautiful and perfect girl is often a painful knife that depicts our easily surprised and happy hearts. How sad is this? Where is the tremor? How can I imagine that when you are old, I will send you poems because a girl can only be a girl once, and so can a teenager. When you push the laughing fishtail to the curtain, it's gentle but not jumping. You look like anger, like anger, like forgiveness. I turned over and rode away.
How much will you miss when you are moving? The fifth watch knocked on your silver Zheng, but it still didn't ring under the moonlight, or it didn't disappear or nobody found it? I want people to smile, and the one who smiles is you. I hope people love jiao, and it is you who spoil you. Who are you? Pavilions, where do you live? Mountains are connected with mountains, water is connected with water, rivers and lakes are connected with jasper and Xiaojia, and streams flow slowly in the sand. When I am old, I will come to see you again, just like before the explosives, but after the dust settled, the building became extinct. Then I will recall those times when I enjoyed myself, when the mountains and rivers were poor, and I wonder if you are friends and confidants you have never known. I walked over and didn't see us, and there was no news ... ancient dancers ... those songs that love beauty but love beauty started again. I remember when I was a child, I loved chatting, and you loved laughing ... Now, the longer the sunset, the fewer pedestrians there are on Jiangnan Road. Does anyone who stops occasionally look up at the clouds and ask: This is the past, with many flowers and shadows, many heroes and heroes, reviving the great cause of Qianshan and the Jiangnan in the past? It's raining heavily ... Jiangnan is a silent ancient book, and it's time to miss Jiangnan ... It was drafted in 1975.
2. Modern poems describing Jiangnan
Jiangnan love author: Xiao Muyu
Who tapped on the screen window in the dream of March?
How charming is the empty rain lane in the smoke building of Shili Changting?
Loneliness, loneliness, fragrance, who is playing sadness in the empty corner?
The sadness of complaining about the flute's unintentional soaking in the wind has touched the lonely sadness for thousands of years.
Tender feelings, dark lilacs, delicate fragrance, missing tears.
Love has no intention to bounce off the dusty beauty and meet you in this foggy rainy season.
I have a little bit of your spirit in my heart, but why are you only hesitating silently ahead?
Lose the loss in your dreams and erase the indulgence in your heart.
In this inseparable breeze and drizzle, I can find the memory of my past life in the stranded wind-
Jiangnan Xiao Lou listens to the rain at night. Author: Cui Changping
The drizzle gently weaves the spring night, and the quiet Jiangnan alley vaguely sings.
Like a wisp of smoke floating in a dimly lit water town-
I can't hide my thoughts, standing on the arch bridge in March with an oil-paper umbrella.
Listen to the quiet sound of mud-slowly across your eyes.
The moon window shaded by bamboo fence fills a gap-
There is a dragonfly on your head.
Like a misty rain shaking mulberry bud, I deeply understand-
The mood of leaning against the window and counting flowers
Li Zishu in front of the court has clear footsteps.
In early summer, when we get together leisurely, it becomes a lifelong dream.
You, when you open the window of the porch, the smoke in Trillie drops and songbirds sing.
Memories of the plum rain dripping on the lotus pond, intertwined into a circle and a circle.
There will always be a shallow image.
I came here along the Grand Canal, where there were ice floes-
Stop by your side at night, and don't want sadness to disturb the rainy night.
Familiar breath can be recalled-intimate years.
I hope the rain will stop in the Ming Dynasty, and I hope Qingshi Lane in early spring. I want to hear it again-
Selling flowers sounds like apricots.
3. Modern poems describing Jiangnan
Love in the south of the Yangtze River Author: Xiao Muyu, in March, the grass grows in the south of the Yangtze River. Who taps on the screen window, the ten-mile pavilion, the smoke building and the rain lane in a dream, which has no load, how many charming disappointments, loneliness and fragrance? Who plays the sad flute in an empty corner that is unintentionally immersed in the wind, and has touched the lonely sadness and sadness for thousands of years, the faint fragrance of lilacs, the faint miss of tears, the faint beauty of love and dust, in this. Why did Linxi just hesitate to put aside the loss in his dream and wipe away the sinking in his heart, and regain the memory of his previous life in the stranded wind? In this soft atmosphere where wind and drizzle are inseparable-the night when the small building in the south of the Yangtze River listens to the rain Author: Cui Changping's light drizzle weaves a quiet Jiangnan spring night. Just like a wisp of smoke floating in a dimly lit water town-it's hard to hide your thoughts and hold up an oil-paper umbrella. On the arch bridge in March, listening to the quiet sound of slurry-slowly through the moonlight window shaded by bamboo fence, filling a gap-the beautiful image of your jade scratching your head. There is a dragonfly grounded on your head, just like a misty rain shaking mulberry bud. I deeply understand the feeling of leaning against the window and counting flowers. Plum trees in front of the court have clear steps, and gathering together in early summer has become your lifelong yearning. When you open the porch window, the memory of Yingying singing plum rain dripping on the lotus pond will remain forever, and a shallow image will be found by the side of the Grand Canal where ice floes float-I don't want to be sad when I stay by your side at night, but I can call it back after disturbing the familiar breath of the night rain-I hope the intimate years will end in the spring of the early Ming Dynasty, and I want to listen to it again-the sound of selling flowers like red apricots.
4. Modern poems describing Jiangnan scenery
Whispering Jiangnan Author: Liao Yongzhi
1.
Waiting for those little swallows to fly from the south.
In the spring of April, I watched the rain flowing down the eaves.
Watching a child fall asleep at dusk in the foggy south of the Yangtze River.
At that time, I took an umbrella from the West Lake and took the ferry south with you.
You drift eastward.
In the dream, the distant northland makes you no longer envy Jiangnan.
2.
Looking at the graceful figure of Jiangnan girls, I fell asleep.
I will be with you in Okawabe, on the boat on the Yanbo River, looking for them one by one.
Champion, champion, champion
Those girls and women had eyebrows in the Ming and Qing Dynasties.
The faint sadness of Jinguancheng.
(This is that-
Bai Juyi's Jiangnan, the Jiangnan where the scenery once seemed familiar.
Su Dongpo's "Jiangnan" sang "Dajiangdong" to the Jiangnan where the waves were exhausted.
Li Qingzhao's Jiangnan was miserable when it was warm and cold.
That was Jiangnan many years ago.
From south to north, from north to south, the wind blows every year.
Jiangnan, cold and windy.
Be shamelessly trampled by aliens.
Many innocent people died in Jiangnan during the war.
It is the charming and bleak Jiangnan where the soldiers who left their hometown fought.
(Yes-
Jiangnan in the past, Jiangnan in the dream, Jiangnan now.
Rebuild after painful bloodshed and tears
My parents love me, cultivate me, hope me and raise me in Jiangnan.
Is a land and people, always dense, pregnant, evergreen Jiangnan)
3.
South of the Yangtze river
Ride on a thin leaf
Come back with fallen flowers in your arms.
Come back with a scarlet on the black land.
It's the homecoming of those wanderers with tears in their eyes.
If so, would you?
I'll take you to see the scenery in Jiangnan.
4.
January Jiangnan
I hold your hand and listen to the thin chirp of the soil on the cold embankment.
In February, the willows in the fields by the stream have begun to wake up.
In March, they began to make up and went to the tailor's shop to cut a suitable dress.
In April, they wore beautiful coats and were affectionate.
Seduce teenagers and men who start to grow up.
And those birds, frogs, flowers and grass are also shouting.
Wait until May.
What will be a vibrant Jiangnan?
Children in June never go to bed early and get up late.
Their numbers passed from village to village.
Cross from one field to another.
Sometimes I will herd cattle on the hillside and take a fishing boat.
Embracing the weak bones of the pink girl I love, listening to all kinds of sounds of nature.
Play flute and piano.
See Xu Xian and Bai Niangzi very much in love)
In July, the crops in the field are ripe.
Pick up a handful of ears of rice and look at the white geese and ducks in Xiang Tiange.
Men, men who drink white wine.
Call his wife and children at the dinner table at dusk.
This is a family that began to enjoy life after a hard day's work.
In August and September, a woman's figure shuttled through fields and pastures.
At the threshing floor and the market, at night, as usual.
Lying in his man's arms warmly.
5. Modern Jiangnan Watertown Poetry
Jiangnan, under the painter's pen, is still a beautiful and clear watercolor painting. The old cow returns to the building at dusk, and the shepherd boy plays the flute on the cow's back. ...
Jiangnan in front of us is a poem? Is this a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? Bridges and flowing water are your tenderness, and highways are your strength. A wide road divides Jiangnan into a huge grid book-a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.
A straight road is an infinite staff, and all kinds of vehicles are jumping notes, playing a song of celebration. Flowing with joy, rolling with passion, singing fiery red and expressing prosperity. ...
Jiangnan songs-pastoral music and disco!
Xue pan
Looking forward to snow is looking forward to your mood.
It seldom snows in the south. Who is standing on a cloudy day?
A tree, on a high hill, is waiting for the colorful winter alone.
The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is turned away by the lintel of the season. Every time I lose weight,
The first frost is always remembered as the back of a dream.
It hasn't snowed yet, and my heart is as empty as a bird's whine.
A deciduous tree, its desolate appearance, makes the whole season lonely.
It snows south of the Yangtze River.
Like a flock of frightened birds, white feathers fall with the wind,
My heart fluttered on vilen, and I couldn't utter a moan.
It snows in Jiangnan. A lot of unforgettable pain does not come from cold, when your eyes shrug.
Glaciers, flying thoughts blocked all retreat.
It is a bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring rain that turns green quietly.
Snowflakes melted into my tears.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow, and these wonderful notes come from far away places.
God, it reached the peak of the season overnight.
Everything silently plays the symphony of the earth and sings in unison for the coming spring.
The germ under the snow is surging in the spring tide.
I'm not an audience in front of the stage. My heart joined in dancing and singing,
Enthusiasm is high and never ends.
Watch the children play with snow.
At this moment, the earth is like a kind mother. Love extends wider than the seasons,
Let the children's footprints write the happiness and joy of childhood in the snow.
Make a snowman. Throw snowballs. Have a snowball fight. Children's innocent eyes and laughter smooth the wrinkles of the soul.
A snowman piled high caught my attention, and I suddenly felt that snowman was myself.
Soon integrated into the children's sunshine world.
Snow is silent.
Snow is silent.
A group of children playing with snow awakened a sleeping dream, and the snow lit up the morning.
Is the sky full of freedom and joy that makes the earth tremble slightly, or is it my heart,
Longing to fly freely like snow.
I saw the earth holding a holy heart, and it was still calm in the face of cheering children.
Walk into the snow
Walking into the snow, am I getting old or young?
If I am getting old, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes lit up by fairy tales?
If I am getting younger, why are my temples gray?
Thoughts are like falling in love.
6. A modern poem about Jiangnan
Li Ji of Jiangnan Grass
In the autumn when chrysanthemums are in full bloom,
It's my first time in Jiangnan.
Although I came and went in a hurry,
But you are a thousand times more beautiful than I thought.
Looking at your beautiful city,
The most beautiful picture has lost its color;
Strolling in the beautiful water town,
Even eternal songs are pale.
Your beauty makes me feel ashamed;
There are no words to describe you in the bag.
People say that "there is heaven above and Suzhou and Hangzhou below",
Heaven is just a fantasy that people weave in your image.
I know you can't show your magic in autumn,
All I see is a grass among your thousands of miles of flowers.
But I'm going back,
I'm going back with this blade of grass.
I'm going to the desert with this blade of grass,
I want to take this blade of grass back to my hometown.
I'm going to plant it in the Gobi desert,
I also want to say to my family:
"Water it with our sweat,
Let our big Gobi become like Jiangnan! "
Dai Wangshu's Rain Lane is quite classic.
7. The style of modern poetry with Jiangnan charm is still optional: ancient style, aestheticism and desolation.
Alleys in the rain
Author: Dai Wangshu
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to see
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
She does.
Clove-like color
Lilac fragrance
Lilac sadness
Mourn in the rain
Sad and confused
She lingers in this lonely rain lane
Hold an oil-paper umbrella
Like me
Like me.
Walk quietly
Cold desert, melancholy, and melancholy.
She approached quietly.
Get close and throw again.
Breathing eyes
She floated by.
well
As sad and confused as a dream.
Floating like a dream
Dingxiangyuan
I missed this girl.
She walked away silently, walked away.
A ramshackle hedge.
Walk through this rainy path
In the sad song of rain
Remove her color.
Scattered her fragrance.
Disappeared, even hers
Breathing eyes
Lavender melancholy
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane
I hope to float over.
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
8. Modern poetry describing Jiangnan
Jiangnan listens to the snow (male) rain, starting at dusk.
The drizzle is like smoke, like floc, soft and soft. Brush the grass over the petals.
At the end of Dimfragrance, there was a whisper. (Female) Several cold rains scattered flowers all over the floor.
Wild geese pass by, listening to you play the flute, and the dusk becomes a sad flute in an instant. (Male) I don't know when Jiangnan became a complex in my heart.
Looking at the south, it hurts. Your laughter sounded very slight and ethereal.
I like winter because I like snow. But in winter in the south, it is rare to see snow all over the sky.
Occasionally a few pieces of flying snow fall, like a shy girl, who has no time to freeze in her memory and leave in a hurry. I know you like snow, because this is your name, my Snow White.
From a distance, the gloomy sky seems to hide too much helplessness and sadness. The light blue glass window was covered with water mist, and I drew a six-petal snowflake on it with my finger, which quickly melted into tears.
(Male) Your distant eyes are condensed into a curved Leng Yue, which has been shrouded in the north. All winter, I hope to fly south like a bird and fly to your city.
(Female) Waiting for a snow, as if waiting for a thousand-year agreement. So, I try to imagine, imagine what your winter is like there.
I always want to call your name, but when I call it out gently, too many sobs pass through my forehead. I miss the wet flowers on the eaves, which wither and condense into frost.
(Female) The unruly wind is a little cool, and the frost and dew wet my skirt and eyes. In the wind, are there any flowers for you?
(m) Yes, snowflakes are light and elegant, white and pure, white and hazy. In the breeze, the thick earthy smell is accompanied by the faint fragrance of grass roots and tree buds.
(Female) The cheerful voice broke the dull silence and slipped through my ears, with a faint plum blossom fragrance. Did it snow there? Yes, it is snowing! In the north wind, my lonely steps are on the snowfield, stepping out of a lingering acacia.
Honey, can you hear the snow? (Female) Honey, I heard you. Snowflakes flapped their wings in the most primitive colors. I like to hear the rustle of your stepping on the snow. (Male) With open arms, he danced the butterfly dance in a rotating position in the snow.
I vaguely held your hand again. (Female) The snow hanging on the wall in Saibei, across the rivers and mountains, falls in a large area, making my world holy.
(m) In this colorful ceremony, I want to fall with the wind, lie between your fluttering skirts and listen to the flowers in the cold plum season. (female) I know that you want to hold a handful of ice and snow and let me feel the charm of winter.
But cold frost and cold came to my heart. Don't just stand there, I have made a fire for you in my room.
(Male) Oh, you've been expecting snow in Jiangnan. I want you to hear it. Dear, do you know that although the winter in Saibei is cold, my heart is warm by you.
Oh, honey, you know, rows of birch trees fascinate me, too. I want to be drunk with you in that snowy mountain forest, so that my body and mind can surpass the world and blend into the earth in an instant.
(Male) Let snowflakes fall on your shoulders and turn yourself into a white sculpture in the snow, and you will have a fairy-tale artistic conception in your heart. (Woman) Hold your breath. I also heard the song rushing under the ice, like a lyric poem. I know, this is a fairy tale you planted.
Dear, I will take you to the ice lake to listen to the sounds of nature, where there are many unspeakable secrets. (Female) My heart has escaped from my cold body and flew to the crossroads of dreams.
Honey, can you see my skirt flying in the snow? (Male) Look up, snowflakes slide across your cheeks one by one, just like your hands slide gently. Every snowflake is you, my Snow White! (Female) In the rustling wind, can you hear the sigh of the dead leaves on the street corner? That's because, apart from fairy tales, I'm not a princess, and you can't be my prince.
(Male) Dear, come close to me. My arms can be bent into the wings of an angel to protect the fairy tale in winter. (Female) But the cold wind will always blow away my full heart, just like this uncontrollable snowflake.
(m) Dear, it is our fairy tale to walk along the euphemistic south of the Yangtze River and reach the footprints of dawn! (Female) Yes, dear, for a beautiful legend, I waited for a thousand years in the moonlight! Dear, because of waiting, the night sky has added beautiful legends. (Female) Listen attentively, and all the poems related to love are quietly blooming with the bubbling snowflakes.
(Male) Dear, have you ever known that those scattered poems are all caused by you, and the tides rise and fall, and the four seasons blend together. Day and night.
(Female) Ah, that crystal snowflake fell on my face, instantly turned into a water drop, leaving a melody where it flowed. That is the echo of the spring tide. (Male) Buds in bud are knocking on the window lattice of spring, and each one is smiling proudly, which is the strength accumulated for a winter.
(Female) In a trance, scissors-like figure cuts out lines and returns to love. There are no more tears in the falling purples.
Honey, the snow is still flying. I will quietly cover your eyes from behind and let your heart appreciate paintings and poems carefully until dawn.
(Female) You said the snow is still flying? I want to find my long-lost brush, copy this one beautifully and hang it in my sky. Dear, put your hand in my palm and write our fairy tale together.
There is snow-white Jiangnan in fairy tales. Woman: Yes, I put my hand in your palm and write our fairy tales together.
It turns out that the snow-white Jiangnan is in your palm. (M) Dear, I believe that we will be like stories in fairy tales, and happiness is the ending.
(Female) Dear, we live happily, just like in fairy tales.
9. Modern Jiangnan Watertown Poetry
Jiangnan, under the painter's pen, is still a beautiful and clear watercolor painting.
The old cow returning to the building at dusk, the shepherd boy riding on the cow's back and playing the flute ... is it a poem before Jiangnan? Is this a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? Bridges and flowing water are your tenderness, and highways are your strength. The wide road divides the south of the Yangtze River into a huge grid book ―― a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.
A straight road is an infinite staff, and all kinds of vehicles are jumping notes, playing a song of celebration. Flowing with joy, rolling with passion, singing fiery red, revealing the prosperity ... Jiangnan songs-pastoral music and disco! Looking forward to the snow is looking forward to your mood.
It seldom snows in the south. On a cloudy day, who is standing on a tree, on a high hill, waiting for colorful winter alone?
The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is turned away by the lintel of the season. Every time you read the thin first frost, it is always the tiny back in your dream.
It hasn't snowed yet, and my heart is as empty as a bird's whine. A deciduous tree, its desolate appearance, makes the whole season lonely.
Snowfall in the south of the Yangtze River is like a flock of frightened birds. White feathers are falling with the wind, and my heart is fluttering on the leaves. I can't let out a moan. It snows in Jiangnan.
Many unforgettable pains do not come from the cold. When your eyes turn into glaciers, all your retreat is blocked by flying thoughts. It is a bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring rain that turns green quietly. When the snow melts, it looks like my tears.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow. Beautiful songs are floating in the snow. These wonderful notes come from a distant paradise, and the peak of this season comes all night. Everything silently plays the symphony of the earth and sings in unison for the coming spring.
The germ under the snow is surging in the spring tide. I'm not an audience in front of the stage.
My heart has joined the ranks of dancing and singing, which is endless. Seeing children playing with snow, the earth looks like a kind mother.
Love extends more widely than seasons, allowing children to write down their childhood happiness and joy in the snow. Make a snowman.
Throw snowballs. have a snowball fight
The child's innocent eyes and laughter smoothed the wrinkles of the soul. A snowman piled high caught my attention, and I suddenly felt that the snowman was myself and quickly integrated into the children's sunshine world.
Silent snow, silent snow. A group of children playing with snow awakened a sleeping dream, and the snow lit up the morning.
Is the sky full of freedom and joy, making the earth tremble slightly, or is my heart eager to fly freely like snow? I saw the earth holding a holy heart, and it was still calm in the face of cheering children.
Walking into the snow, am I getting old or young? If I am getting old, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes lit up by fairy tales?
If I become young, why are my sideburns gray and my thoughts colored?