The cold autumn light of silver candles paints the screen, and the small light fan flutters at the flowing fireflies.
The sky is as cold as water at night, and I sit and watch Altair and Vega.
The swallows fly, the cicadas turn yellow in the cold autumn, the birds sing, the jujube red and the lotus leaves are clear.
The blue clouds and blue sky are so colorful, and when you turn around, you can see the scenery again.
The fading summer
The shadows are stretched very long
The tall and tall trees
At this noon< /p>
Encounter with the sun
All colors
Have long been popular on the street
Girls and flowers
Light expression
With a side-by-side atmosphere
Long words
Behind the leaves
There are still leaves
p>
The sound of cicadas is disturbing
Can't tell the difference between northwest and south
Clouds that can be picked with one's hand
Pull the bird's wings through it
p>
The wind lingers in the mist
It stings the mood like wheat awns
The resentful eyes
The world outside the window cannot be empty
The speed of the season approaching the river
Rolling up the waves of the days
The years of encouragement
Returning life to a jumping weight
Thoughts are like quicksand
In the fading summer
Falling through the cracks of memories
"Village Evening" is a work by Lei Zhen, a poet from the Song Dynasty. It is the scenery of the countryside in late summer and early autumn. The first two lines of the poem mainly talk about the pond, and the last two lines are famous lines that have been recited for a long time, mainly talking about the shepherd boy. The first two sentences of the poem describe a quiet scene, and the last two sentences describe a moving scene. There is stillness and movement, sound and color. It vividly depicts a picture of a shepherd boy returning home at night, expressing the poet's love and praise for the evening scene in the countryside.
The pond is full of grass and water, and the setting sun soaks the mountains with cold ripples.
The shepherd boy returns and crosses the cow's back, playing the piccolo without any tune.
Eight Autumn Poems
Author: Du Fu
The jade dew withered the maple forest, and the Wushan Gorge was desolate.
The waves in the river and the sky are rising, blocking the wind and clouds and grounding the clouds.
The chrysanthemums in bloom will shed tears in the future, and the lonely boat will be connected to the heart of my hometown.
Han Yi is urging the sword and ruler everywhere, and Baidi City is high and anxious at dusk.
The sun sets in the isolated city of Kui Mansion, and every time I turn to the south, I look towards the capital.
After listening to the ape crying three times, he was entrusted to follow the eighty-eight-year-old man.
The incense burner in the painting is hidden on the pillow, and the pink battlements of the mountain tower are hidden in sadness.
Please look at the wisteria moon on the stone and the reed flowers in front of the island.
Qianjiashan Guo Jing Zhaohui, Ririjiang Tower sits green and micro.
The fishermen in Xinsu are still ordinary, and the swallows are flying in the clear autumn.
Kuang Heng's reputation for resisting Shu was not good, and Liu Xiang's Chuan Sutra went against his will.
The classmates are young and not cheap, but Wuling Qiu Ma is too young to be fat.
I heard that Chang'an is like playing chess, and the world is full of sorrow for a hundred years.
The princes and houses all have new owners, and their civil and military uniforms are different from those of the past.
The golden drums of Guan Mountain in Zhibei shook, and the expedition to the west was delayed by chariots and horses.
The fish and dragon are lonely, the autumn river is cold, and the homeland is full of thoughts.
The Penglai Palace faces the Nanshan Mountain, and the golden stems of dew reach the Han Dynasty.
Looking to the west, the Queen Mother descends from Yaochi, and from the east, the purple energy fills the pass.
The clouds move and the pheasant tail opens the palace fan, and the sun circles the dragon scales to recognize the holy face.
I was lying in Cangjiang at the late New Year's Eve, and I went to work several times when I was young.
At the head of Qujiang River at the mouth of Qutang Gorge, thousands of miles of wind and smoke meet the plain autumn.
The calyces sandwich the city to control the air, and the hibiscus garden enters the border.
Bead curtains and embroidered pillars surround yellow swans, and brocade cables and tooth walls raise white gulls.
Looking back at the pitiful land of singing and dancing, Qinzhong has been an imperial state since ancient times.
The Kunming pool is full of merits from the Han Dynasty, and Emperor Wu’s flag is in his eyes.
The silk threads of the Weaver Girl make up the night moon, and the scales of stone whales move in the autumn wind.
The wild rice floats on the waves and sinks into black clouds, and the lotus room falls pink in the cold dew.
There is only a bird's way in the sky at Guansai, and there is a fisherman everywhere in the rivers and lakes.
Kunwu Yusu meanders from the sky, and the purple pavilion peak enters the beautiful slope.
The fragrant rice pecks at the remaining parrot grains, and the green parasol perches on the old phoenix branches.
A beautiful woman picks up the green spring and asks each other, and an immortal couple moves in the same boat late at night.
The color pen used to be dry, and the white head looked down in pain.