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China culture, out-of-print culture, we are late.

Sky, fleeting clouds. Is the fire still burning? The beautiful scenery that hurts people solidifies into a thorn and sticks in your throat, which is red, swollen, inflamed and scarred. Then it became an unbearable shame. Splash of blood and tears soaked your palest soul. The floating wind gently climbed over the heavy yellow robe. Look, a smile beyond memory has no content. China culture, out-of-print culture, we are late.

You sobbed a thousand times and ten thousand times with tears in your eyes, tossing and turning in the vast reverberation of history. You miss each other in eternity, and you can't stop crying in this confused world. Tears slowly fall on the ground, and your sadness is hard to tell. China culture, out-of-print culture, we are late.

Curly Xiao Sheng hit your sore, a pair of women's hands locked a collapsed dynasty, and a man accidentally lost half of his country. All struggles are in vain, life can't bear the solemn pain of parting, and dull despair hangs over your fragile heart. China culture, out-of-print culture, we are late.

A thousand years of wind and rain, a thousand years of silence. Your silent and melancholy soul trudges alone, and sad stories spread with the wind and overflow the water. I am sad to cross the vast horizon and fly over the tearful watch. In just visiting, groups of masons bent down and waved chisels, chopping and chopping stories of weeping blood. Everything, and then cut a sacred sadness. China's culture, out-of-print culture, you have gone through a thousand years of wind and rain with tears and blood, and also shocked the vicissitudes of the Millennium.

Approaching you, no strange words can decorate your desolate glory, only white hair is inserted into the tunnel of time, hunting and publicity. A nation is proud of you. Approaching you, I can't decipher the password of your life. But when I stop and face the silent you, I can always feel the impulse of life and the rolling strength. Approaching you, I found you guiding us forward. Every place blends your history. The sun and the moon go back and forth, and the turn of time melts into your towering body.

China culture, out-of-print culture, please stop your mourning, stop your crying, stop your sadness, stop your confusion, because we are here. Don't worry, with us, your life will be brilliant again! Don't worry, with us, your spirit will be brilliant! Don't worry, with us here, you will never be out of print again!

Comments by famous teachers

This masterpiece, which has been thought for thousands of years, is worth learning from: First, the angle is extraordinary: it is impossible to write such a good article without understanding the historical situation and classical culture. From this perspective, it takes courage, wisdom and talent to write the topic of "sticking to out-of-print culture". The author clearly did it, and it was beautifully written! Whether it is the fire in Epang Palace or the blood and tears by the Great Wall, although full of historical bitterness, how can you forget it as a descendant of China? Second, the emotion is unique: the article can not only fully display the talents of candidates, but also show their inner persistence and love for traditional culture, which goes beyond the general emotional category.

Will you still be impetuous?

Jiangnan rainy night, holding a pot of fragrant tea, listening to the rain outside the window; Read ten thousand volumes of poetry in hand, taste ancient and modern literati, each leading the way. So there is no need to return to the oblique wind and drizzle, and everything is quiet. Will you still be impetuous?

Will you still be impetuous? In the embrace of nature. Maybe we walked through the high-rise buildings with cement and steel bars during the day, and the green space was just an island in gray, so we couldn't stop quietly to taste it. But on that foggy rainy night in the south of the Yangtze River, we can sit by the window and listen to the sounds of nature. Ripples spread in my heart, a pot of tea is light, and a handful of rain is clear. Wet green leaves are connected together, and at night, the black shadow has a hint of green. All the impetuousness was washed away by the rain, leaving only a quiet and pure heart.

Will you still be impetuous? In that poem, it is either graceful or heroic. Have profound thoughts and the brilliance of the ancients. A rainy night, it is "the blue sea has no waves, and there is a road in the remote station." Looking back, you will see in your heart that the rain has merged into streams and rivers, and there is a heroic "river of no return". Turn around, the breeze blows, open your poem page, "Blowing the face and chilling the willow wind" jumps on the paper ... The rain is sad, which is "the lonely phoenix tree locks the clear autumn in the deep courtyard"; The rain is majestic, and there is even more thinking about "I will go up and down." All impetuous spirits are dispelled by mo Xiang, leaving only a poetic rhyme and a tender feeling in a quiet night.

Will you still be impetuous? In that historical ring. Looking back at a dynasty and savoring it for a period of time, your thoughts will cross the century or Wang Yang like the wind and light. Quiet air blows on my face, which is the historical precipitation of Soochow; Chrysanthemum is quiet, which is the release of Tao Yuanming; The earthy atmosphere is strong, and you can see that Mao Zedong points the way, and the Red Army overcomes difficulties ... All impetuousness is annihilated in the wise thoughts and atmospheric ambitions of historical figures; At the end of that period of history, only one was sober and the other was rational.

Will you still be impetuous? In the ubiquitous silence. The world can be impetuous with an impetuous heart, but the heart is calm and calm.

Why not hold a pot of green tea on a rainy night? There, you feel more than purity.

Will you regret it?

"Wine enters luxury intestines, seven is divided into moonlight, the other three is divided into firm but gentle, and the embroidered mouth is half full of Tang Dynasty."

Your talent has enriched a dynasty!

At the age of ten, I visited hundreds of schools and made more contributions. Under the agarwood pavilion, smoked and smoked; Above the Jade Palace, Yan Fei Morris takes off her boots! But how can a person's life be so prosperous? so

Did you see the hatred in Gao Lishi's eyes? Did you see Yang Guifei's charming smile? In three days, you will become a "royal scholar" with "talent"! Isn't the emperor's "paying back the money" charity?

See the truth when you are prosperous! So you drink for three people under the moon, besides being a degenerate, you can also enjoy the elegance of the "fallen fairy"! So you sit lazily in Huang Huali's chair, look up and ask, "Why does the host say there is less money?" The colorful horse, the golden autumn, in your eyes, is nothing but a thing apart!

Grapes and wine, scattered pots and pans, get drunk and solve thousands of worries!

"Tang dynasty, Tang dynasty! Why do you prefer poetry to wine rather than poets? "

You are no longer "persistent" as before, leaving all the sufferings in the world to Toure to sing softly. ...

You look for the White Deer Plain, swim in the sky, and spill all your regrets on the Jinghu Lake! Yes, God can't bear to let a poetic heart stay in fame and fortune!

Helpless, nostalgic, reluctant, I threw it into the hip flask with regret! But why are you disappointed?

Oh-no ambition! What a pity! So, let me-

Borrow the flat lines in your poems, record the wisps of your soul, capture seven minutes and two inches with Qingming as a long sword, and interpret eight tones and three folds in the flowing water. You have a fragrant soul, I want to leave a mellow rhyme! No one appreciates you. You travel with Fei Xian. I have a chance, and I have a smooth sailing! I want to brew a bloody heart and a heroic spirit!

You were born with ambition, and I have ambition to join this world!

A thousand years later, I stand here and feel you, determined to surpass you! I want to interpret another life with the perfection of life, and let you see the prosperity in another "true chun"! Will you regret it?

Walk through the south of the water town

I am obsessed with traveling, and I am keen to travel all over the mountains and rivers and see all the lakes and mountains. I especially love Jiangnan. Close your eyes, there is always a dream about Jiangnan calling me, calling me to walk through the water town of Jiangnan with a heart of travel. ...

Listening to the gentle tunes of Jiangnan and listening to the soft words of Wu Nong always reminds me of Liuhua Bridge in Jiangnan and the beauty of Wuzhen. Traveling in Wuzhen, walking through the gray tile white walls, small bridges and wooden boats in the water town seems to be full of the unique charm of Jiangnan, like water breathing. Standing on the white stone bridge, the air was filled with misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. A faint water woman walked past me with a lotus lantern and an oil-paper umbrella. When she looked back, it seemed that a clear lake flooded her eyebrows. My heart is drunk in the shallow smile of Jiangnan women's pear nest, drunk in the meaningful running water of Wuzhen, and I can't extricate myself. Walking in the most beautiful corner of Jiangnan water town, the heart of loving travel is full of the gentle atmosphere of Wuzhen. Wuzhen, Wuzhen, you bloom an eternal paradise in my heart.

Walking by the West Lake, I always have a trance through history. After all, there are too many civilizations and stories handed down for thousands of years. Close your eyes, the wind is blowing on the lake, and you can vaguely hear a crane whispering outside the bamboo building by the water in Stone Town. I was caught off guard. One touching legend comes with the dense water vapor of the West Lake, about Su Causeway, about the Leifeng Tower, and about the beautiful poem "If you want to compare with the West Lake, light makeup is always appropriate" ... When traveling in the West Lake, I saw the fog.

I have read Li Houzhu's When You Are Drunk, When Will You Become Heavy? Naturally, people hate water when they grow up. "It always reminds me of the Qionghua flying around Qinhuai, the willow color all over the sky. Qinhuai, an affectionate place, always reminds me of the flute blowing flowing clouds and flowing water here, the palace flowers in the cold smoke cage, and Li Yu's "new moon showing spring scenery and cars flowing like Ma Rulong" in the drizzle ... These stories about the colorful Qinhuai and the hometown of Nantang are deposited on the gloomy balcony of the upper garden in the south of the Yangtze River, telling the story of Qionghua's moonlight shadow in the middle of the road. Traveling in Qinhuai, I captured the sadness of Li Houzhu and the beauty of countless waters in the south of the Yangtze River.

Travel is a process that fascinates me. Walking through the south of the Yangtze River, I washed away the world of mortals in my heart in the beautiful scenery, let me learn the depth of history, and let me taste the peerless talents like water. Travel in the water town with joy and gain a good harvest all the way.

Please walk with me in Jiangnan water town. ...

At that time, I broke into a butterfly.

Excellence is a letter from a fast horse, so Li Bai shouted, "Are we Artemisia people?" I went to Chang 'an, where I was intoxicated with money.

Ordinary is a night of autumn rain under the eaves, so Du Fu silently sighed: "The hut was broken by the autumn wind." Pick up the quilt and find a ground that can't get wet.

Excellence is a pot of carefully cared-for violets on the desk, which has caused a series of exclamations.

Ordinary is an aged wine sealed in a corner, quietly witnessing the growth of cobwebs.

The King of Qin swept Liuhe, Wu Han conquered Xiongnu, Emperor Taizong established a prosperous time, and Ming Cheng expanded Yuan Ze. Their deeds have witnessed their greatness, recorded in history books, and will be immortal.

Dong Cunrui gave his life, and Qiu was patient, dedicated and brave. Their deeds show their qualities, which are firmly remembered in people's hearts and passed down from generation to generation.

Everyone wants to become famous overnight and get on the stage of music, sports and literature.

It was just a dream.

We walk the same road and do the same thing at the same time every day.

The reality is that we are still ordinary.

Ordinary is not mediocre, mediocre people only have dreams, and ordinary is different.

Ordinary people will accumulate energy, wait for that moment, and break the cocoon into a butterfly.

It can be seen that Du Gongbu's poems were repeatedly sung by later literati and poets. Paper was expensive in Luoyang in the Northern Song Dynasty, and Du Fu was no less excellent than Li Bai.

So I saw that the old jar in the corner was found, and the thick aroma of wine immediately dumped everyone, and the Excellence of old wine even surpassed that of flowers.

I have no rich parents, no prominent family background, and no upper-class acquaintances. I am ordinary.

But as long as I have dreams, hopes, perseverance and determination, I will be outstanding.

Every life is like climbing a mountain. I don't have a cable car, a helicopter or even a pair of decent sneakers. The top of the mountain is so high and the mountain road is so steep.

But the important thing is, I keep walking. Ordinary life has no end, like an infinitely extending road, but when you bravely go on, you will find another world ahead.

At that time, I broke into a butterfly.

treasure

Quietly knocking on Chai Men, who can't hide for long, time flows silently around me. I fled hastily under the shackles of the city and found such a party, which made me feel sorry and cherish the past. Time has left these things behind, and I quietly regret and feel sad here.

Strolling in this alley, rows of gray-black brick walls are patchwork, there is a tepid tenderness in the black and yellow tiles, and there are several clusters of new grass at the root of the wall. There is no elaborate carving, only the vicissitudes left by time. Hu Qin in the alley "created man" in Love in a Fallen City. Behind the painted door are clusters of lush flowers and plants. What are you sighing about, shiny green? This is a kind of nostalgia. The old man behind the door sat quietly with a cattail leaf fan. How precious peace is! I think, after thousands of years, these things will never fade after settling down, which will make you miss and cherish its old face, let you put down your steps and be reluctant to walk for only a few minutes. At the end, it's downtown.

Cherish is a kind of gaze. Staring at our ancient culture, clinging to these ancient buildings, retaining the most primitive persistence in the corner of the city. Gaze at our roots and look for our home in this alley under the contempt of modern people. Gazing at how these vicissitudes open the long-forgotten feelings in our hearts and set off ripples in everyone's hearts. Cherish, regret and bid farewell to these quietness that evokes culture and soul.

Cherish, is a kind of return. Strolling into the alley is a kind of return, the initial happiness of life, the culture that has been cast in the blood of the people, and the tranquility of "taking a quick look at time". Because of nostalgia, so return, cherish, cherish, cherish this rare, ancient memory and tranquility.

My thoughts came to an abrupt end, and only the jade on my chest made me feel the afterheat of all this. The huqin in the alley is still ringing, but I accidentally found that Parthenocissus tricuspidata covered the old wall this summer. Perhaps, the old imagination is so contradictory to the young nervous and eager heart, just like this vine leaning against the old wall, and the cycle is like a trickle. Parthenocissus tricuspidata grows and falls down again and again, but the old wall remains the same.

I heard that this ancient city will be rebuilt. And everything in the alley is like an unspeakable fragrance, which reminds me of the past. Cherish the past, this is a kind of love and return!

Tao Gong, forever.

Hurriedly stepping over Nanshan, just to find a touch of autumn chrysanthemum thousands of years ago. The dead are gone, the east fence is gone, the ancient style is still there, the leaves are falling, and the proud chrysanthemum is welcomed alone. In silence, in the stamens, the Millennium time quietly turns. ...

Back and forth—

A deep sigh.

Tao Yuanming, a man destined to be immortal, retired.

I was ambitious, I was full of ambition, and I wanted to help the world. As a wine-offering, as a master book, as an assistant envoy, as a soldier, as a Peng, he went in and out of the officialdom five times, just for the sake of loving the people and serving the country.

However, Mr. Wang finally chose to leave. The pure land in my heart refuses to plant dirty seeds. Go home, go home, the breeze in the sleeve gently calls. I returned my official uniform and took off my official hat, and the chrysanthemums in my heart were reborn and blossomed all over the floor. Look at the official coldly for the last time, look at the black table and black column in disgust, turn around and come out angrily.

Don't bend over for five bushels of rice.

The breeze outside the house is like water, and the sky is high and the clouds are light. Looking around, you can see that the chrysanthemum is still there, like the reunion of old friends, and the joy in the corner of your eyes quietly pours down. Set foot on the path and float home. No more intrigue, no more servility, you are a unique lotus flower, looking for your own clear water pond.

Holding a long hoe in his hand, he went straight to Nanshan, leaving a broken figure for the mallet he had held. Autumn leaves fall like a disc, and Huang Ju is like a fire. At the foot of Nanshan, you gently open the cinnamon soil and look for your own amazing poems in the soil. In the face of Qiu Ju, you look solemn, and you have never seen such solemnity when you took the imperial edict with your hands.

The cold wind blows slowly, and the lonely moon hangs high. In the hut, you wear a short brown cloth, pour it yourself and drink it yourself without saying a word. Are you lonely? Are you still infatuated with the whole world? You were silent, but you just turned your muddy eyes to the hip flask that accompanied you all your life. Pick up the cup and slowly deliver it to your mouth. After drinking, you frown quietly. Tao Gong, the way you raise your glass is much more natural and unrestrained than the way you hold the official document.

You put your heart into poetry, you know, someone will understand you, and history will understand you. Tao Yuanming's three words also shine on that page of history.

Tao Gong, wake up, are you drunk? Drunk or not. Maybe in your dream, you will find your own Peach Blossom Garden. Tao Gong, sweet dreams.

Sake.

Aoju

Long live Tao Gong.

Mourn for peace

Peace is a quietly blooming flower, and at this time, who can predict how far it is from the day of withering?

-inscription

Peace is a quiet nap of the host. When his eyes are closed and opened, he will sigh gently and let the birds resting beside him fly away at once.

The bell of Christ has become history, and the dusty days are no longer remembered. The new millennium knocks on the door of history, and everything reappears in front of us. Looking back at my hometown, it is mottled and vicissitudes, worn out like Wang Fu rock in the sand. Staring at the battlefield, bloodstained, like the turbulent waves of a rolling river. ...

Sages save the world, hoping to return nature and spirituality. In the eyes of the sages, we are happy because we have dreams. However, Noah's Ark is not sailing to the other side of peace, and there will never be a peaceful war of aggression and darkness. The smoke and war of the Millennium are vivid, and the cry for help of the Millennium is still endless. Why can't you show a red card to the painful reality? The cry of the "people who have not returned from the Long March" is still in my ears, but how can the "bright moon in Qin Dynasty" be as bright as ever?

We experienced the First World War, which destroyed our lives, burned our homes, swallowed up the world's peaceful sky, and lost the paradise for survival. What can we expect? Just when we were troubled by the painful memories of yesterday, World War II violently knocked down the door of human civilization, and all living things suffered another catastrophe. Nuclear weapons not only shocked a generation, but also frightened several generations. Just yesterday, when our wounds were still aching, the war between the United States and Iraq began again. Humble moments of peace only leave scars on mankind. The outbreak of the US-Iraq war shocked the whole world, and the use of chemical and biological weapons may make all mankind face death. ...

History will not forget, nor will people forget. Facing the dark and gloomy muzzle, we no longer hope to face the desperate cry for help, but we can only choose silence. For forgotten memories. We have become a forgotten tribe, and now our scars have been uncovered. ...

Longing for peace and loving life, what we need is not a turbulent world, but a devastated world. Once we also had a dream, a green home, full of fresh lemon fragrance. The haze of disease no longer pervades the sky, and the trap of hatred no longer covers the earth. Children of different colors talk with smiles and sincerity, and adults of different faiths shake hands with dignity and peace. The fence in every house's yard is covered with ivy. If you are not careful, you will laugh all over the floor. A happy stream flows through everyone's dreams, and ripples will make shallow waves of love and warm the whole night. ...

However, dreams are just dreams. When dreams are just dreams, the world is not peaceful. Those who long for peace can only pray: doves of peace, holding olive branches, lobby this beautiful world peacefully.

In mourning, we seem to see a young man who unfortunately fell down in order to climb the starry sky and pick up the stars one night long ago. Many years later, the teenager turned into a constellation, waiting for the right side of the sky, the world, peace and everything. ...

Su Wu forever.

With a wave of his hand, he threw a sheep whip and a gold hat mink deep into the sky; Take a bald pen, the short paper is oblique, and he is engraved with the deepest concern for the big man. On the one hand, he is a high-ranking official and generous, on the other hand, he is totally loyal: standing between forgetting and remembering, between leisure and worry, he chose to forget wealth and loyalty, which painted the strongest stroke in human nature.

Holding successive festivals, he ran in the vast desert with the hope of harmony between Han and Hungary; Holding camel bells for a while, leaving Chang' an's singing and dancing for a while, and wandering in the cold sand and hay for a while; He wants to drive across the Tianshan Mountains with a straight back and communicate with the flying rainbow in the Central Plains.

Lament, when the Korean envoy failed to rebel; Righteousness, when Su Wu refused to betray the enemy; Surprised, when Khan faced this iron man who would rather die than surrender and was not moved by wealth; Insist, Su Wu raised his whip and chose to be the persistent and holy watcher of Alpine Snow Lotus.

The north wind blows hard, and he keeps company with Leng Yue; Gu Zhongyuan in the north remembers the nobleness of "being a gentleman and dying a gentleman" in his heart. Hu cut is bitter. He thought of solitary burial, looking forward to snow in the desert, and forgot the promise of "splendor and wealth, and a thousand dollars to seal the Hou". The cellar was cold, and he swallowed a mouthful of felt wool and turf, but his blood was boiling with an immortal belief-remembering the motherland and serving the country faithfully. Snow and ice are falling, he loves food and wine, but his arrogance has sounded the swan song of the future-poverty cannot be moved, power cannot be bent, and wealth can still be forgotten.

What an eternal Su Wu! With his wisdom, he remembered his belief in loyalty to the big fellow. In the ice and snow, I sang and sang, sublimated the bare continuous section into an eternal surprise, and wrote a sad song that was recited through the ages.

What an eternal Su Wu! With courage, he forgot the temptation of Khan's splendor, drifted away in the desert sand, fixed the bony sheep as immortal history and wrote magnificent poems.

History can't forget, between glitz and persistence. Su Wu of Beihai, an iron-blooded man exiled in the barren hills and plains, made the most perfect interpretation with perseverance, not forgetting wealth and achieving integrity; Remember the motherland and create greatness.

I understand that between forgetting and remembering, between enjoying and persisting, Su Wu, who walks on the ice of hay, gave the best answer with persistence and belief: wealth is just passing away; Forgetting is its best destination; Loyalty is the eternity of history; Remember, that's its spiritual home.

Zhuang zai, eternal Su Wu! Great, that shocking forgetting! Strange, that earth-shattering memory! PANDA KID, a forgotten and remembered ode to the Millennium!

Su Wu forever.

Comments:

This is a masterpiece with rich historical and cultural knowledge, talent and aura. The author deeply understood the essence of the topic, turned his eyes to the historical sky with dialectical methods, carefully selected the national hero Su Wu as the material to express his feelings, and enthusiastically eulogized his great spirit and national integrity for the sake of "Sino-Hungarian harmony" and national unity. Su Wu in history, Su Wu forever! He "painted the strongest stroke in human nature" and sang "a thousand-year ode to forgetting and remembering" for history.

Full of reverence and passion, the author uses the phrase "Forever Su Wu" as the title of the essay, which is striking, concise, accurate and to the point. It not only highly summarizes Su Wu's spiritual quality, but also highlights his lofty position in history. Throughout the whole article, Su Wu always measured it on the historical scale in a comparative way, promoted the healthy atmosphere in the world, highlighted the heroic integrity, and vividly and profoundly explained the theme. Due to the extensive use of rhetorical devices such as antithesis, metaphor, parallelism, quotation and repetition, and the combination of parallel prose and irregular long and short sentences, the article has a smooth charm and a sonorous rhyme. After reading it, it not only makes people feel heroic, but also leaves fragrance everywhere. (Tang Zheng) (Xinhuanet: China Education Online)

You yi nian Huai Hua Piao Xiang

On a very unintentional day, I happened to find that Sophora japonica should be covered with branches. Looking up at the delicate buds and flowers hanging between the green branches and leaves, dribs and drabs, flashing, setting off the old customs of people. The season of blooming Sophora japonica is a season of dancing and singing with dreams. Being in the forest and strolling along the sunny path, there is always a faint fragrance in the air, which can penetrate the heart and lungs, not long but very long. There are idle clouds and customs, and it is another year of Sophora japonica fragrance.

Old locust trees often hang branches inadvertently and scatter all over the floor. White petals are softly spread on the sand, like gradually plump wings, layer after layer, overlapping into a colorful world of Sophora japonica. When the breeze blows, the petals of the birds shake their glittering wings, gather or disperse, rise or fall, and suddenly rotate into an intimate posture. The season with Sophora japonica is always a friendly season. Through a calm. When Sophora japonica is in full bloom, hold up a boat and give it to strangers in foreign countries. The beauty of Sophora japonica makes the beauty of this season, and its fragrance spreads all over the world.

I have imagined the artistic conception of Zen described by poets countless times, Zen and poetry, poetry and Zen, Zen in poetry or Zen in poetry. But there is always no answer. Imaginary beauty has wings to fly, while realized beauty stands between Zen and poetry. Under the shadow of the locust tree, I really felt the beauty of silence, fragrance and ethereal beauty. For the first time, I tasted the Zen flavor of "there seems to be no one on the empty mountain, but I think I heard a voice". Although it is only a moment of possession and feeling, when I forget happiness and trouble, it is Zen. The fragrance of Sophora japonica never attracts attention, and its love always belongs to the earth.

I walk in the blooming season of Sophora japonica and taste its fragrance on sunny days. On this path, I have sown too many fragmentary and simple spirits, leaving countless beautiful and peaceful thoughts. Another year of Sophora japonica fragrance, Sophora japonica fragrance speaks from the heart. My heart will become a fruitful tree because of the blooming of Sophora japonica, and my feelings will fall into real dreams because of the elegance of Sophora japonica. Today in the coming year is the day when I meet Sophora japonica again. Then hold the tranquility of Sophora japonica, experience the purity of Sophora japonica, taste the sweetness of Sophora japonica, wait and see. Another year, the fragrance of Sophora japonica flowers.

I am proud to live in Jiangnan.

Five thousand years ago, the mysterious Jiangnan was ancient, and five thousand years ago, the passionate Jiangnan was surrounded by dreams. I am a woman in a skirt, picking mulberry in the afternoon green water; I am a woman with a bright jade bracelet, peeling water chestnuts on a waterwheel; I am a white-haired old woman beside the thatched eaves grass, enjoying family happiness in drunken dancing and singing. I live in Jiangnan, tender and I am proud of Jiangnan. because there are ...

pons

Bridge is a dream of stopping at the water town in the south of the Yangtze River, from which the bridge culture ripples. The graceful posture is that women are dancing, the clever posture is that rainbows are drinking water by the stream, rust is the precipitation of history, and the enduring power is the power of Mao Qing. How much laughter, national hatred and family sorrow your petite and stalwart body bears. Misty and rainy, Liu Yiyi. Shaded by green houses and tiles; Small broken sun, curling smoke, calling for the late arrival of Wu Peng's boat; The bluestone road by the river leisurely leads to the high stone arch bridge in the distance. The boat is walking leisurely below, and people are walking gently on the floor, just like in the picture. ...

Flowing water

Things flowing from the south of the Yangtze River flow into Bai Juyi's memory of the south of the Yangtze River: "At sunrise, the river flowers win the fire, and in spring, the river is blue." The flowing water in the south of the Yangtze River has maintained the beauty of the south of the Yangtze River, without arrogance or rashness. Completely like a small jasper, when talking, her lips are slightly open, and when walking, she is a golden lotus. Later, the river opened its mouth when it entered the sea, and Jony J Jasper gradually became a charming woman, spreading her charm between gestures. The running water showed her a subtle beauty, neither supercilious nor ostentatious. This is the character of the whole Jiangnan.

family

Simple Jiangnan people have romantic fantasies. Jiangnan girl with bright eyes and white teeth speaks Wu Nong's soft language, with beautiful eyes and a smart smile. They pose for washing clothes on the gurgling water, hum the tune of washing clothes, and smile gently in the sunset. Since ancient times, there have been many talented people in Jiangnan, and the world can't compete with ten. Nine Ridges in the South of the Yangtze River are romantic. Some people say that "the southeast is charming, and the woman has a man", which is true, but it is not. Here, we got out of the poetic and alcoholic Wu, a proud scholar, and Qiu Jin, who was willing to spend a lot of money to buy nod. Let's cry. The chapter on the previous page has faded with the silence of the notes, and the chapter on the next page will be written by us for you.

How many chapters have my Jiangnan sung in Tang poetry and Song poetry, and how many times have I been graceful and restrained in the historical picture; My Jiangnan is a short song in the rain, in which there are fishermen boating on the river and woodcutter wading early. I live in the south of the Yangtze River with tenderness, like a cup of whispering wine full of tea rhyme. Jiangnan, I am proud of you.