-Don Luther Young
Natural modality, fresh pink cheeks. When a stranger sees you at first sight, his first language is more pity. His arms are as fat as a donkey, and his skin is softer than cotton. When the head grows, it can cover the forehead, and the angle gradually decreases. There's nothing to worry about if you break up. A row of official soldiers shouted in front of the painting hall. Sing the willows together, sing the lotus together. Take the embankment with drizzle, and flush the lane with light smoke. Tender bamboo rides a horse, and Xinpu breaks the whip. Young warblers are in the golden snail system, and cats have colored silk collars. Holding cranes to Qingdao drives geese into warm spring. Huayang competes for snow, and elm leaves collect money. The tin mirror is hung on the chest, and the silver beads are hung on the ears. The head is wrapped in a stork and the sleeves are covered with branches. Wine warms cinnabar, and tea urges Xiaoyu to fry. Frequently invited to raise money, when begging for embroidery needles to wear. Cherish red beans and make up jewels. The costume is covered with a mattress, and the hat is wearing boots and felt. Exhibition painting tends to be three saints, and the screen opens to laugh at seven sages. The storage of green apricots is small, and the forehead is green and round. I was shocked, with tears all over my face and saliva all over my face. Tired of reading books, hate drugs, cleverly postpone. Write it down and hide it. You are welcome to beat the drums and pluck the strings of the game god. The curtain blows the hook, and the kite pushes the goose column. Chess and road painting, flute is short of sound. The angry guest fell asleep at the beginning, and the monk was half-meditating. Look for spiders and poor roofs, and explore birds all over the rafters. Throw the fruit and open your mouth, hide the hook. In the evening, we get together and play on the swing. Fold bamboo into mud swallows, add silk and put paper kites. Praise each other's water cymbals and teach each other how to spin. This flag is cut with red silk, and this book is cut with blue. Spread the pigeon net far away and control the flying line low. Slang is always telling the truth, and folk songs are circulated everywhere. The concealed window eyebrows are bent at the beginning, and the arm is connected. Fight for grass as the spring path, and fight for the ball out of the backcourt. Liu sits beside herself, and the bottom of the flower wants to sleep. Wait for the front fence of the magpie and listen to the edge of the building. Butterflies stick to branches and cicadas stick to trees. The flat island is boasting, and the cliff is proud of its edge. Small footprints on tender moss, complete footprints on Zita Law's shoes. Competition refers to the cloud, and the bright moon is called the sky. Did the ants find their way? Beehives were piled up around the steps. The firewood sings back to the deep mountain, and the ox sings down the distant river. Make firewood for the house and hold a banquet with mud. It's dangerous to build a high platform stone and jump a steep tower brick. Suddenly climbed the neighbor's tree and stole the boat in Houchi. Xiang Tuo is called Teacher's Day, and Ganluo is an auspicious year. When you were in the Ming Dynasty, you could be virtuous and persuade me to reduce my madness.
Children fishing
Don Hu Lingneng
A unkempt little boy learned to bow his head and sit by the blackberry and moss.
Hearing the voice of passers-by, the child waved, afraid to disturb the fish and dare not respond to passers-by.
Su Xinshi xugong shop
-Song Yang Wanli
The fence is sparse, a path leads to the distance, and the petals on the tree fall, but the shade has not yet formed.
The child ran quickly to catch the yellow butterfly, but the butterfly suddenly flew into the vegetable garden and could not be found again.
What do you see
-qingyuanmei
Cowboys ride on the backs of oxen, and songs echo in the forest.
Suddenly want to catch the song of the tree, immediately stop singing and stand by the tree silently.
Rural residence
-Gao Qing Ding
In February, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willows are drunk with spring smoke.
The children came back from school early, so they were busy flying kites in the east wind.
Gifts for wild children
-Don Wei Zhuang
I admire your ignorance and wildness. I scratch my head and laugh at people.
Riding an ox at dusk, I would like to ask Minister Zhongxing.
Shepherd boy
-Tang Qichan
Cows can ride freely, and spring breeze and Mao Mao rain can fly freely.
Among the green hills and grass, there is a flute and a hemp fiber.
Sing at sunrise and clap your hands at the moon.
Who is like you? Nothing, nothing.
Watch the children playing on the stream in the village.
-Song Luyou
After the rain, the stream leveled the bank and looked at the children in the village to thank yat sen villa.
Bamboo and horses gallop, kites are domineering and whistling in the wind.
In the third winter, I temporarily learned from Confucian scholars and practiced from my parents.
Literacy is roughly equivalent to paying tribute, so you don't have to work hard for your officials.
Pastoral ci
-Zhang Tang Ji
Cattle are driven far away, and the grass around the village is dense. The hungry bird pecked the cow's back and prevented me from playing with my head. Into the vicious grass, many cows spread out and sang to the reeds when they were white. Blowing leaves across the embankment should be accompanied by three or four whips. "Niu Niu eats grass and doesn't touch each other, and the lawsuit is broken!"
Pastoral ci
-Don Li She
In the morning, go to herd cattle, and the cattle will go to Jiangwan. Go to herd cattle at night and drive cattle in the village. Walking in the rain-covered Woods, folding and lying on the green grass, singing a little song. The waist is full of short arrows of basil, and I am no longer afraid of tigers biting my calves.
Shepherd boy
-Tang Yinluan
The shepherd boy doesn't know anyone, wearing straw sandals and bamboo hats. The sunshine in the morning is not outstanding, and the dew is half wet. In February and March, the grass on the plain turns green. Riding cattle in March and March, grazing in front of the village and behind the village. The flute is just a stroke, and all the children sing and dance together. Look at the sky, ride their cows home.
Children's painting in mountain villages
Qiu Yidong
The cloud is the protagonist of the picture.
Let the sunshine show its appearance.
Warm, cold.
Floating over the stream.
The tree is the protagonist of this painting.
Let the wind smear its rings.
A large sum, a small sum.
Ye's eyes are looking at the surrounding cliffs.
Earth is the protagonist of the picture.
Let fantasy show its wealth.
A foot deep, a foot shallow.
The mountain road is full of autumn fragrance.
childhood
Guohui Huang
When am I still scratching my cheeks?
Look up at my father's face.
These ruts have been through the years.
ponder
The splendid carriage of time roared by.
Full of my naive dreams
When am I still kneeling on my mother's knee?
The story in my ear flows like a mountain spring
The touch of the breeze is a hypnotic song.
While I was sleeping.
The body floated in the clouds.
When will I still hold the kite's hand?
Lying on the green court
Ants climbed up my nose.
Stamp your feet and complain about me.
Collapsed its new house.
When do I expect the class outing?
Pots, pots and basins are necessary luggage.
Make a fire and look forward to an attractive meal.
The raindrops unexpectedly bore fruit.
You can only associate them with laughter.
Taste together