55 words of Jiangnan Good Composition
The drizzle pounded on the dark green tiles with melancholy, the inky tiles stained the mottled white walls, and the breeze blew the floral fragrance of Jiangnan with melancholy. On the Millennium ancient road, green waves rippled. Leaning on the whitewashed tile, watching the trickle go to that distant place. Jiangnan, poetic Jiangnan, sentimental Jiangnan, is frozen in the wind.
Time flies by here, taking away the prosperity and noise, leaving behind the quietness and poetry. Accompanied by the humid smell in the morning, I strolled in the alleys of the south of the Yangtze River, and the drizzle continued, adding a lot of affection. Years, write down the sentimental Jiangnan here. I don't know if Lilac One's girl is still here, but I want to play an oil-paper umbrella, sing the sentimental Rain Lane with her and spend a short time with her. Appreciate the unique sweet smile of his water town and appreciate her sadness of being alone.
The brook is gurgling here, and its slender body tells many feelings, like a song, a long-standing song. I heard the feelings of a small jasper on the balcony of the pavilion, and I heard the romantic love of a rich man with a golden ribbon folding fan, as clear as tears and as crystal clear as the sky. Fine water, lingering constantly, with slate and moss. I am looking here, looking for the dream lost here in spring, and watching the green grass spewing and splashing all over the floor.
Cooking smoke is curling up here. Floating, floating to the vast sky. Cooking smoke gently and quietly covers the quiet earth, adding a peaceful atmosphere. Gray, gray body in the air, flying my thoughts, like a few strokes of landscape freehand brushwork, bringing a bit of poetry. Once upon a time, the sweet smell of the country, once upon a time, the long-lost love in my heart, brought together with the smoke, and taken away together.
Gardens, hidden among bamboos and bamboos, hide the south of the Yangtze River. How many years have been soaked by the bend of the stream, and how many poems are displayed by strange flowers and rocks. The pavilions and pavilions are carved with dragons and painted with phoenixes, showing the glory of the past. Touch the railing carved with red paint and feel the unique style. The octagonal balcony and all loves set each other off, and jade carvings and pottery are closely related to the years. I wonder if there lived a young girl here, with a hairpin of jasper and agate, and a beauty fan inlaid with gold. In a summer, she faced the childe in the garden.
Jiangnan, a poetic Jiangnan and an affectionate Jiangnan, I would like to freeze the fleeting time in the wind with you.
Only talented people in the south of the Yangtze River can have 55 words of beautiful compositions in the south of the Yangtze River.
A friend returned from a spring outing in the south of the Yangtze River and handed me a pile of photos, including gardens in Suzhou, city views in Yangzhou, lakes in Wuxi and bridges in Shaoxing. But I said, "You don't understand the beauty of Jiangnan."
In my opinion, the beauty of the south of the Yangtze River should have a strong and lasting melancholy of returning to spring: "It rains a lot during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to die." This is the unique melancholy of Jiangnan gifted scholars.
"There are many fragrant grasses in the south of the Yangtze River in February, and it is drizzling in spring." Broken clouds, broken flutes and drizzle are all heard in the sound of flutes. Especially that night: "What time is the remnant star? The flute is leaning against the building." The man leaning against the building is the soul of Jiangnan.
The people leaning against the building are talented people in the south of the Yangtze River, including Wang Youjun and Zhang Ruoxu, Yu Dafu and Dai Wangshu. There is melancholy and sadness, but it is always bright and light, because it can't carry many worries. Only when there are talented people in Jiangnan can there be beauty in Jiangnan.
Every small bridge in the south of the Yangtze River tells the story of a gifted scholar. On one occasion, Wang Xizhi passed the question fan bridge and met an old woman selling bamboo fans. At this time, when autumn is cool, who wants to buy bamboo fans? The poor old man of Xihe wrote five words for each bamboo fan. Sure enough, there was a long queue in front of the old woman's bamboo fan. Without this story, the fan bridge is not beautiful.
Another example is the Banpen Bridge: Zhu Maichen, a poor scholar in the Eastern Han Dynasty, studied hard until he was 4 years old, and had not yet entered politics, so he was despised by his wife Cui Shi and divorced. Later, when they met on the bridge, Maichen had already made a satrap. Cui Shi wanted to mend fences. Maichen ordered his servants to take a basin of water from the river and pour it on the bridge deck, saying, Take this basin of water back, and I will take you back. The beauty of the Banpen Bridge is also due to this story. Many bridges in the south of the Yangtze River have meaningful cultural implications. The Spring Wave Bridge in Shaoxing is named after the story of Lu You and Tang Wan. The Maple Bridge in Gusu, because of Changji's poem: "frosty night, Jiangfeng fishing and sleeping. Hanshan Temple, outside Gusu City, chimes to passenger ships at midnight. " Only then have a beautiful sentimental temperament. Later generations lingered here to listen to the bells of Hanshan Temple because of the artistic conception of this poem. Therefore, the soul of Jiangnan beauty is the humanistic sentiment of Jiangnan.
55 words by Jiang Nanyu
Close your eyes and listen to the silent drizzle. Dreamlike dusk, dreamlike drizzle, dreamlike Jiangnan, a little bit of sadness poured into my heart. In the dream of Jiangnan, lingering and long-lasting tears spilled into my heart silently. It was the rain in Jiangnan, which was psychedelic and tender as water, just like a poem, which was tasted and unforgettable.
Walking through the ancient alleyways, the rain stretches and stretches, weaving a fine net in the air. Through the hazy rain curtain, I can see the hazy south of the Yangtze River. The rain slides over the eaves and drops on the bluestone board at my feet. A misty woman seems to appear on the lonely boat. The misty eyes have no focus, just looking, wanting to see the end of the rain, holding a flute, and the quiet feelings are scattered all over the river for a long time. The world is getting smaller and smaller, leaving only Jiangnan, light rain, light self,
by the arch bridge, under the green willow, light yellow dress, supple long hair, long black eyelashes slightly upturned, stained with crystal drops, rain or tears? The oil-paper umbrella in hand is folded, and the pearl-like rain drops slide down from the handle, along the grass stem and into the earth. As in Jiang Shuiping, the light drizzle hooked a beautiful arc in the sky, quietly falling into the water, rippling in the microwave, and the distant mountain shadows were hazy and looming. The rain is finely intertwined, falling, and inextricably intertwined. The dream is like a dream, an endless, psychedelic and quiet dream. The mountains are empty, the water is bright, and my heart is empty. Following the rain, ink-colored landscape paintings emerge in my mind. Is it so quiet and hazy?
Listening to the sound of rain quietly seems silent, but there is a rustling rhyme around my ears, as if there is no variation of the song, quiet and long; Like a delicate poem, flowing across my heart. When the rain hesitates to flow out from the eyes of the sky, it falls on the eaves, glides past the window and gurgles down, sometimes dripping, and the sound is slow and smooth. Breathing gently, the fresh breath around the nose, slowly flowing into the bottom of my heart, drop by drop, are the marks of rain, the dusk of light smoke and rain, that is the shadow of Jiangnan.
in the dream, Jiang Nanyu, what is the sadness?
Jiangnan composition in the rain 55 words
In a specific geographical location, Jiangnan, a delicate and soft water town, has been bred, and its specific temperament is more fresh in the dense rain and fog. The drizzle that has been sprinkled for several days has brought the careless spring to the extreme, and Jiangnan in the rain is like a thin veil.
The crisp and tender green has become Jiangnan forever. On the white walls of blue tiles, moist green moss grows in succession, and the texture of the green board road of Ban Bian can be seen. All these have struck a bleak artistic conception in the drizzle flying in the south of the Yangtze River.
Did the willow wind green Jiang Nanan, or did the drizzle wake up the spring? As if overnight, the south of the Yangtze River was covered with greenery. Zhang Zhihe's The Fisherman's Song in the Tang Dynasty described it vividly: "Egrets fly in front of the Cisai Mountain, the peach blossoms are flowing, the mandarin fish is fat, the green bamboo hat is green, and the oblique wind and drizzle don't need to return." Rain and the south of the Yangtze River have unfinished feelings, so they are painted red and green. Just like enjoying the magical songs, the trees along the roadside are extraordinary. Through the cracks in the leaves, it seems that the beauty of Jiangnan rotates with the raindrops.
Jiangnan is far away from the noise, and the drizzle is more quiet, but it is not cool. It has wiped out the earthy dust and made everything fresh. Look at it being rained. Perhaps this is the embodiment.
The scenery and richness in Jiang Nanyu give people enjoyment, and naturally it has become a dreamlike fairyland written by literati. Jiangnan in the rain evokes endless thoughts. In the long rain lane in my memory, I can always meet a girl with a lilac-like knot, wandering in the smoke of Jiang Nanyu fog. Her faint eyes, faint melancholy, dissipate. Savoring the bearing and poetry of Jiangnan, and realizing the elegance of Jiangnan in this earthly world, you will feel that you are reading a book of nature with infinite mystery.
After walking through the most tender spring composition in Jiangnan, 55 words
When the breath of spring overflows the green slate, it knocks out the wet and cool air and soaks the low clouds with great sadness, and the spring thunder finally slams, without the friction of sparks, but it is secluded. Finally, the rain falls very gently and slowly. It is an elf that can be touched by hands. It is a leisurely free fall, and it still does not forget to show off its fluttering posture. The crunchiness of the blue tiles knocked out a misty and rainy Jiangnan, and a girl with an oil-paper umbrella emerged from the wet lane with the rhythm of banana leaves.
When the breath of spring slips into the low villages and lanes in the south of the Yangtze River, hides in the wrinkles of the elders, and laughs secretly, the shallow grass has not yet looked up rashly, but the flowers are already in bud, such as a smiling beauty with dark fragrance and sleeves. The villagers prop up the oars, sway the blue jade water, and the aquatic plants are lingering to push the boat to the other side of the river, pushing their hearts into the harbor of love, and the sky is dotted with it.
The smell of spring seems to be getting stronger and heavier, until the grass in the water is green enough to condense the water, until the sun becomes soft and soft, and you begin to pity the tender leaves as thin as cicadas. Tuwa bluestone, surrounded by a fresh green, has Tao Gong ever listened to the humming in the bamboo forest and planted the future chrysanthemum fragrance at the foot of Nanshan?
The shower provoked plantains, the knocker provoked verdigris, and a faint bright moon hypnotized Jiangnan from the distant Guanghan Palace. All the green was covered with black silk, and the spring night was as ruthless as ever, overshadowing all the once beautiful colors. So, at this moment, the green mountains and green hills and stone bridge tiles in Jiangnan finally quieted down, shed their old clothes and put on more elegant Chinese clothes just for the Ming Dynasty!
In spring, Jiangnan is a seven-stringed guqin, and the rain is like a trembling shuttle, which makes you feel drunk.
Jiangnan in spring is an ancient chessboard. Invite the bright moon to be your bosom friend, play against it, and let it be baptized. The green spirit and watery spirit make the chess style so calm. After the spring breeze passes, the greenery begins to dye, and the creatures walk on their own chessboards to form a green chess game, forming a dreamy Jiangnan.
55 words of the lost Jiangnan composition
Living in Jiangnan, he has the same melancholy as Jiangnan ...
Two years ago, Jiangnan was naive, lively and brilliant. Now Jiangnan is silent. He is always quiet, and his heart can no longer stir up a ripple. Perhaps the environment has changed him! In fact, he really wanted to go back to two years ago, but fate decided that Jiangnan could only go further and further, away from the legendary Jiangnan ... < P > Two years ago, I left my hometown and embarked on a long road to study. When I went on the road with a sense of curiosity and joy, I found that the environment can really change a person. I don't know what made me introverted. I really want to find my former self and the feeling of bathing in the sun, but at dawn after darkness, I lost my direction.
Now I live in a sea of books and mountains, and only when I study can I forget all my troubles and worries. At the same time, it also makes me quieter, lying in a corner like a pool of "stagnant water", nobody cares, and I don't want to look out. Because I'm afraid, I'm afraid that I won't know myself one day, so I want to keep my own side of the world. Even if I am silent, I have no regrets. At least I still have myself like Jiangnan.
When the wind crumpled the water in the south of the Yangtze River, I couldn't restrain my inner excitement and returned to the south of the Yangtze River after a long absence. Either he doesn't know me or I'm not marked by him. I think I don't belong here anymore, and my friends around me have changed. What makes them involved in the torrent of this society? Is it because they can't stand the temptation of society? I don't want to keep my eyes open, because I don't want to see Jiangnan become like this ... Two years, two years, why can't you hold on to your excitement-seeking heart? I really want to see the pure Jiangnan now, bathed in his warm arms, and miss the days before Jiangnan, but I can never find it back.
Jiangnan, I want to hold your hand. I am willing to be quiet all the time, so as to "keep my ears closed to things outside the window and concentrate on reading sage books." But I know Jiangnan, you are unwilling to be lonely. We're off track, so I can only say, "Goodbye, Jiangnan!" "
Yunmo. 55 words of Jiangnan composition
Walking into Jiangnan is like walking into a graceful and beautiful ink painting and calligraphy.
There are no rugged peaks in the north in the south of the Yangtze River, and there is no such magnificence and boldness as "the mountains are stacked one after another, hiding the sky from the sun". It is like a Qingyi woman singing on the stage with a red tooth plate, full of tender feelings, like that trickle, flowing into people's hearts-Jiangnan gives people a delicate feeling, like a crisp misty rain. Wandering around the corner of the water town, misty rain gently floats in your heart, the rain like ox hair moistens everyone's soul, and the fresh earth fragrance suddenly pours into your nose and washes everyone's heart. Jiangnan is a quaint wooden house adapted to local conditions, simple and chic, as if a handful of tea in the hand is elegant and a fragrant rosewood fills the air.
Jiangnan is really like crisp rain and silk water. In the rain and fog, Lin Lin's smoke rises and falls with the swaying of the boat, and I feel the warmth in the water. The faint blue smoke rises in the bow, as if people are wandering in this hazy cloud and fog. Unique houses are built on both sides of the strait, simple and elegant, infiltrating on the ancient wooden beams. The merchants hanging lanterns on both sides of the strait closed, and the lights were swaying, ethereal and rippling. The lights on both sides of the strait reflected each other, and a burst of intoxicating blush appeared. The shadows of the lights disappeared into the dense fog around them, swaying, ethereal and rippling, swaying up and down with the ups and downs of the waves, and the winding waterway seemed endless.
It's late at night, and the fog is gone, and the golden crescent moon seems to be covered with soft light on the jade-like face. The white light flows lightly on the water, just like a path made of broken silver pads, shining and bright, extending to endless distances.
Jiangnan, as if the sky is dark, is like the ink that will never accumulate, and the ink drops that will never be clear will cover your head.
Walking out of the south of the Yangtze River seems like everything is bright; Looking back, I came out of that dark age, out of that elegant bridge, flowing water and people.
Jiangnan Pink Butterfly Composition 55 words
In a corner of the south of the Yangtze River, it seldom snows. It's not like the heavy snow in the north, it's just one