Girls in Jiangnan belong to lightness. When she spoke, her voice was thin and clear, like a bird singing in an empty valley. She is a pipa, winding slowly, and every syllable is a harmonious interval. Walk slowly. Gently, walk like a willow in the wind. Graceful, it looks like an underwater ballet. The voice is sweet when singing. The elephant drank a spoonful of honey in advance, with a thin waist, like a little swan with a neck. ...
Jiangnan men are all wise, and their eyes are shining with wisdom. You always speak so slowly. Don't worry, how difficult things have become so simple. They have an inclusive heart, no matter how angry they are, they don't want to yell at you. He will blush and explain to you slowly as if he had done something wrong. You are embarrassed, you have to admit your recklessness. ...
The wind in the south of the Yangtze River is continuous, like a shy boudoir woman who likes to hide behind people. It seems that the words are still resting. He likes to walk briskly in the drizzle, combing the weeping willows by the river, just like a demure sister combing her dark and beautiful hair! Even in winter, the wind in the south of the Yangtze River has no habit of being cold. He is always so cheerful. So gentle.
The moon in the south of the Yangtze River is wet and watery all year round. Shining. Look at the quiet hills, the sleeping harbor! In the morning, the dew on the treetops is the eyes of the moon. She looked at people who go out to make a living affectionately, and told the truth over and over again that "people are relatives in their hometown, and the moonlight at home wants how bright to have how bright." ...
The mountains in the south of the Yangtze River are not as tall and majestic as those in the north. Tall, he is short. Stretch out and be as sincere as the young man next door; The trees in the south of the Yangtze River are dense, supporting each other and stretching upward. It's raining, let's put our hands up together to hold up a warm open space for people who are in a hurry …
Jiangnan, you often walk into my few dreams. You are a fresh poem in my impression! Even the breeze. A reed. A bird song. A piece of floating catkin ... feels so kind and can see the footprints of poetry. Hear the voice of poetry. Taste poetry!
Jiangnan classic prose in dreams 2 Jiangnan in dreams! Shake off a thousand years of wind and frost, and light your shawl with the flowers of this life. I promise you won't live long.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! Jump into your romantic life and walk into your misty and rainy street. I will add flavor to your tea.
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The spring rain is like a dream, and the surrounding scenery is hazy, if there is nothing. It is the season when the spring is cold and the new green is born. Willow branches droop quietly in the misty rain, and the old apricot trees in the courtyard bloom leisurely, and occasionally one or two flowers fall from the branches in the rain. A pair of flying swallows swept through the flowers in the oblique wind and drizzle and disappeared in the distance. That little rain aroused touching feelings and gently fell on the intoxicated spring breeze.
Crossing the corridor of time and space, strolling in the dream water town facing each other for thousands of years, I saw Jiangnan, which is the Jiangnan in my dream!
Jiangnan, like a beautiful and affectionate woman, is as beautiful as flowers and jade and tender as water. It seems to be an ethereal and elegant poem, and it seems to be a faint Chinese painting with ink and wash, so graceful and light.
I remember when I was a child, I especially liked Bai Juyi's poem "Recalling Jiangnan": "Jiangnan is good, and the scenery has been familiar. At sunrise, the flowers in the river are red, and the water in spring is blue. Can you not remember Jiangnan? " I also like those poems that praise Jiangnan, such as: "An old friend stayed in the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and fireworks went down to Yangzhou in March." "The spring breeze travels ten miles along Yangzhou Road, so it is better to roll a bead curtain." "Four hundred and eighty halls in the southern dynasties, how many towers are misty and rainy". The complex that belongs to the south of the Yangtze River has always been entrenched in my heart, and I can't let it go for a long time in my lost years, and it still haunts my heart.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! Countless times, stepping on the hazy rhythm of misty rain, I met Jiangnan in my dream. Under the aura of the ancient water town, my heart is wet and always immersed in "white dew is frost; The so-called Iraqi people can't extricate themselves from the poetic meaning of "water side" In my dream, I walked slowly along history and climbed the stairs; The spearmint in the Tang Dynasty danced in the misty rain of the Yuan Dynasty with the willow wind in the Song Dynasty, and the red palace lantern in the Ming Dynasty danced lightly, telling the love affair of the Qing emperor.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! The misty rain, fragrance all the way, with wandering sadness, a few strands of melancholy and bitterness of Jiangnan water town, turned into clear rhyme and struck a chord, which made people deeply intoxicated in their dreams and unwilling to wake up. In the dream of Jiangnan, the water is surrounded by green hills, birds fly and swallows dance, and flowers are red and green, which is a colorful picture scroll; The dream of the south of the Yangtze River, a small bridge flowing with water, is a meaningful word; In my dream, Jiangnan, flowing water, misty rain, bluestone road, and the flute on Wu Peng's boat all turned into a beautiful music.
A spring river crosses the mountain, boating across the river, leisurely boating, green hills and trees, Gu Xiang ancient house, far village of agriculture and fishery, and ancient town of water town. Jiangnan, like a poem, a tune, a wisp of fragrance, is soft in the warm spring rain, like a bright green dotted on the branches against colorful flowers, saturated with elegant quiet environment and warm breath.
In my dream, I walked into the ink painting scroll of Jiangnan and danced in the poems of Tang and Song Dynasties! The meeting that year aroused my yearning. Meet your present life in the season of sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance.
Who is it, stepping on the misty rain in March, sending a spring letter in the sound of hooves, turning it into a beautiful encounter and making those faces in the season bloom like lotus flowers? In my dream, I walked into the south of the Yangtze River. The wind was light and the clouds were light, and the grass grew and the warblers flew. In the dream of Jiangnan, there is an extraordinary fresh and tranquil taste, which fills my heart gently and gently. The slow stream flows quietly, bypassing the green bamboo forest and trickling through the village head and alleys. Wind chimes are hung on the eaves, jingling and playing the most cheerful music. In the field, the rape blossoms everywhere are golden and fragrant, and I am intoxicated by the breeze.
Who rose with the wind in the maple leaves, ignored the festival of clear autumn, sprinkled misty rain on the river, and looked at the end of the world, and his hometown was so far away that it was difficult to recover? In my dream, I held the moon in my hand and picked up the lost moon shadow in Jiangnan. The night is the lingering world of mortals, a guqin and a bamboo flute. At this time, I feel that the moonlight is empty and bright, heaven and earth embrace each other, caress my heart sound, and sing with the rustling sound outside. Quiet Xiao Sheng, flute and piano sound echoed with a bright moon, echoing among the green mountains and green waters for a long time, intoxicated travelers' dreams and made the lovesick moon grow.
Who is it, holding an oil-paper umbrella, wandering alone in a long, lonely rain lane, drifting across the rain lane like a dream, so sad and blurred, emitting the fragrance and sadness of lilacs? The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River wet my dream. The flute flute sent a desolate rhyme, mixed with tears from the south of the Yangtze River, slowly flowing in my heart and quietly melting into this passionate misty rain. I always fantasize that I am the girl with lilac knot in Dai Wangshu's rain lane, walking into that long, long and lonely rain lane with an oil-paper umbrella. Perhaps, in a previous life, I was a woman in a water town in the south of the Yangtze River, with lilac-like sadness, lingering memories and bitterness.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! That mottled green slate, that winding, deep and unique alley; The blue calico, the handfuls of oil-paper umbrellas with ink fragrance; Slightly rippling green water slowly flows through the long river of history, creaking and shaking Wu Peng's boat for thousands of years.
In my dream, there is a graceful Jiangnan woman, dressed in lilacs, dressed in a white plain clothes, and a few peony flowers, with delicate hands and stroking the zither strings. A song "Mountain Flowing Water" is like a clear spring, which washes away the bustling fatigue, the hurry of the world and the anguish of life.
It's misty and rainy, holding an oil-paper umbrella with a long ancient charm, walking into the ancient town, Gu Xiang, ancient temples and ancient pagodas, and taking a look at the white gray tiles and cornices of the ancient town; Walking in the ancient silence and drizzle; Listen to the chanting of the ancient temple and the midnight bell; Touch the blue bricks, gray tiles and inscriptions of the ancient pagoda. Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! You are full of profound and beautiful ancient rhyme. ...
Tired of walking, find a quiet teahouse, sit by the window, ask for some exquisite dishes, taste fragrant tea and enjoy a Kunqu opera; Drink slowly, smell insects singing birds, watch weeping willows blowing the moon, forget the dust, forget the noise of the city.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! Shake off a thousand years of wind and frost, and light your shawl with the flowers of this life. I promise you won't live long.
Jiangnan, Jiangnan in the dream! Jump into your romantic life and walk into your misty and rainy street. I will add flavor to your tea.
Who brought this red line into my hand, who sang softly to me around a finger, and who sprinkled moonlight on the paradise in my dream? I saw this sacred place. In the midnight dream of summer, I was looking forward to the stars and the moon, and finally I waited for the red wedding of the old month. I just suddenly walked into this strange world. Suddenly, I seemed to eat the immortal Chang 'e and fly to the foggy Guanghan Palace. The light suddenly appeared and the breeze blew slightly. Why is this mysterious moon palace far from the myth I heard when I was a child?
The wind in summer is soft and warm. Where is the person who leads the red line? I yearn for it and look forward to it. In the deep night sky, a red line seems to wrap around my heart. I can't shake it and keep pulling. At night, the breeze looks forward to the bright moon, and the moon palace lingers. The fingers in my heart are soft, gentle and slow, circling the gem in my heart. I'm thinking, I'm guessing, who is the masked woman on the moon? Could it be Chang 'e?
With a little girl's longing for spring, I finally came to the masked woman in the quiet night sky with moonlight and stars shining, following the auspicious clouds woven by red lines. This is not the moon palace in a fairy tale when I was a child. The palace is full of excitement, decoration and fairy tales. Immortals from all walks of life gather here to show their magical powers. The masked woman is wearing a beautiful butterfly skirt with red inside, slender willows and almond eyes, and her eyes are full of mysterious flowers. It seems that her eyes are the blooming face of flowers, all kinds of dazzling, vaguely emitting the taste of dreams in the world in her eyes.
"Come with me!" A sweet word made my whole body tender, as if she were my wife, playing the role of "playing with each other and chasing fireflies under the lights" with me in the maze set by the gods on the wedding night. Lady, please lift your veil, let me see your beauty and kiss your elegance. Along the way, I followed the woman through the fairy pool in Yaotai and bypassed the pavilions, only to see the colorful splendor in the distance. Those flowers are in full bloom, and the lady is turning over her white dress, her black hair is shining with soft and bright luster, and her eyes are smiling. She took out a Yu Di and stood in the wind. All the flowers instantly turned into colorful flower fairies, some with pipa in their hands, some playing guzheng, and some dancing with Yue Xian.
The brilliance in the night is getting stronger and brighter. This night, I witnessed this spotless fairyland and saw this mysterious lady who made me feel really excited. In my dream, I couldn't help laughing.
That night, I began to dream again. I met my wife again and showed me around. This lady told me that the world in heaven is very good, but the scenery on earth is more charming. I listened to my wife's words and joined hands with her to spend the fairyland on earth. One day in the sky, a thousand years on earth. My wife and I wore modern clothes, traveled all over the world and tasted fireworks.
Go back to your hometown. My mother dreams all day. I have sweet and kind memories of my mother. Surrounded by green mountains, green water flows forever, blue sky, long white clouds, uncles and aunts working in the fields naked, uncles and aunts carrying dolls to boil water and chop wood, fragrant rice floating in kitchen smoke, grandma's aging face. ...
In my memory, my mother's jiaozi, with its wet dark green leaves, was skillfully folded into the shape of a funnel by her mother, put in rice, mung beans, mushrooms, egg yolks and pork, hand-stacked, wrapped in the shape of a quadrangular cylinder, tied tightly with a rope, and boiled in a pressure cooker filled with water for more than two hours. The mouth was watering, and jiaozi's delicious green elves made teeth fragrant.
Friendship, once in the flower season of life, bloomed with beautiful fragrance, the books we read together, the tears we shed together, the songs we sang together, the dances we danced together, running and chasing in the sea of flowers; Singing loudly in the fields; Playing by the stream ... pure as water, pure and sweet.
Love, quietly blooming in the bottom of my heart, secretly like, unrequited love, lingering in the dream, the girl's heart, who can understand? Imagine, imagine, I can hug and kiss you in the golden sea of flowers; Can dance a moving waltz with you in a castle full of fairy tales; I can enjoy the beauty of flowers and sunshine with you in the field of taro flowers ... Unfortunately, everything is impossible, because I am not brave enough, because I am like a little woman, and I am not worthy of love in my life. ...
Memories of the picture, sentimental mood, sweet and sad wrapped around my heart, for a long time can not let go. I have experienced pain, tears, confusion, emptiness and loneliness. Is the nightmare of life over, or is my dream just beginning? Or, in the dream, flowers bloom and fall, and cycle from season to season?
This night's dream, my wife took me back to the moon palace. She said there is a beautiful place in the south of the Yangtze River called Yanyu. I grew up in the south of the Yangtze River, and every year, the scenery like spring flashes before my eyes. Unconsciously, it has been thirty years. Jiangnan is familiar to me because it has been with me for thirty years. Jiangnan is strange to me, because I never care about the beauty and tranquility it brings me. As a result, I hit a wall in the world and escaped all grievances. I have always been obsessed with words.
In the online world, I have made many friends and they have given me a lot of help. They said, my words are untrue and full of loopholes; They said that my article can't reveal the true feelings naturally; They said that the structure of my article was unbalanced; They said that my words were all nonsense, neither floating nor dragging, nor clever ... These all hit me to some extent, but why didn't they care and encourage me sincerely? Once, I thought I was home. Now, I am in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. The former, like my father, is strict with me but persuasive, and its figure is broad and magnificent; The latter, like my mother, often gives me a gentle smile, encouragement and gentleness, which is the confidence they give me. Its face is beautiful and kind.
The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River has given me a lot of warmth and happiness, a lot of affirmation and support, and a lot of friendship and care. Here, I found a new home, a home full of happiness and misty rain. It's like a girl, in the misty rain lane in the south of the Yangtze River, with a soft shiny black hair, a pink umbrella, a purple cheongsam, stepping on the unique charm of Jiangnan women and smiling lightly ... It gives me a feeling of beautiful Jiangnan flavor.
I have never written an article since I entered the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. I just sorted out some articles and threw them one at a time. When all the articles were finished, my heart began to be empty and agitated, because I vowed that I would never write articles again. For physical reasons, for all subjective and objective reasons, my inspiration disappeared. I thought I never had the courage and ability to write again. However, I know that my writing career is not completely over. As long as people have emotions, they will never take off their pens, no matter how long it is before the next article. ...
Yes, whether it's misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, it's the place where my dream began. In my dream, that lady is my word dream, which guides me to plunge into the sea of literature again, to be a small tree in the sea of literature, to experience vicissitudes, sunshine and morning dew, to work quietly and grow happily where the dream began.