Modern Poetry of Landscape Paintings in July

Vilen writes, and Hu Lian shows.

Dark green and black

Look at the lotus leaves and weeds along the coast.

Xiao He was exposed to water.

One by one, they held it angrily to the sky.

Shake like a fairy.

Nishang dance wildly

Small red and white lotus flowers, like a pen.

Seven short and eight long, scrambling

From the green leaves

From the slowly flowing Bitan Lake

Keep tracking the sky.

White clouds are painted as dark clouds.

Dark clouds are depicted as falling rain.

Wash the earth clean.

Lush reeds

A slender body gives birth to a small nib.

The wind is its only trusted hand.

Let it sway, just rustle.

Draw a cloud later.

Then I drew some birds.

An unstoppable butterfly

Flapping colorful feathers.

Send incense to others.

Warm light foreshadows each other's paintings.

Stay healthy.

Look at the blooming flowers by the lake.

Decorate the clouds in the sky

Zhao Xia was fascinated by graffiti.

The setting sun blushes.

The lake is full of pens, and the reflection paints.

The mountains are silent in the green.

Sleeping at the bottom of the lake, white clouds linger in the mountains.

The swan is resting on the branch.

Elegant egret

Wild ducks in the water

Tourists on tin boats

A village on the shore

same

Fall into the clouds effortlessly.

Melt into a thick and colorful oil painting

Pastoral farming

Wild magic pen, crops dominate.

Rice blooms like a green carpet.

stretch/extend as far as the eye can see

Corn branches and leaves embrace each other, like the guardian of the earth.

Guarding the seedlings of melons, beans and peppers

When the grapes are ripe, they hang in clusters between the branches and leaves.

A very obvious ridicule

The greenness of fruit trees

Weedy ridge

Witness sweaty paintings.

In Shan Ye, in the water gallery.

Fog is painting, misty rain is hazy.

Return from weeding

Crossing the bridge and flowing water

Listen to the lake gurgling for dozens of miles.

Frogs come and go.

A landscape floating like a cloud.

Love is precipitous, and it is difficult to determine the date of return.