Poems about Baiyangdian (what poems are there about Baiyangdian) 1. What are the poems about Baiyangdian?
Poems about Baiyangdian are as follows:
1, overlooking Baiyangshui, Yuanhangshu Village. The waves are calm, and the emerald color is full of lakes. -"Baiyangdian" by Emperor Kangxi of Qing Dynasty
Vernacular translation: Looking at Baiyangdian from a distance, sailboats are moving, and the shadow village in the distance is looming. The current seems to be smooth, and the whole lake is covered with emerald color.
2. Tianshui is eternal and jinbo is boundless. A boat is like a boat alone, learning from foreigners. -"Zhangzhou Middle Road" by Emperor Qianlong of the Qing Dynasty
Translation of Vernacular Chinese: Heaven and water will never be separated, and Jin Lang will shine brightly. You have to come by boat alone and look at the people on the opposite boat from a distance, just like on the flat ground.
3. The yard with cool and clean moonlight, the water surface of Baiyangdian is silvery white, and the transparent mist is gentle and elegant. The lotus girl weaves a mat, and her body is like white clouds. She dances in her arms wrapped in snow, thinking about it, and suddenly she cuts her finger. -Baiyangdian Lake of Modern Sun Li
4, the wind is rustling and the water is cold, and the strong man is gone forever. -Song of Xiao by Jing Ke in the Warring States Period.
Vernacular translation: the wind is rustling and it is very cold. When a strong man went to the Western Qin Dynasty, he never came back.
5, Baiyangdian waves beat the sky, innocent and high. The giant salamander sees the dragon go, and the diamonds on the lotus are uneven. -Song of Baiyangdian by Sun Ming Jing Zong
The waves in Populus euphratica can shoot the sky, and there are tens of thousands of hectares without Gaotian. The giant salamander is looming, and the lotus flowers are intertwined in the Longyou Lake.
Baidu encyclopedia-Baiyangdian
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2. What poems describe "Baiyangdian"?
Baiyangdian root 1, I was badly hurt. The mast was cut by thunder. I fell like a sailboat on the sunny beach. I come from a rough sea, but I am so dry that all my water-brain, bile and bone fluid-acts as blood, leaving nothing in the sea.
I estimate that there should be two or three red poppies floating on every wave. Without the laughter of the sea, when I fell for the first time, my heart was thrown out of the wound in my chest and rolled on my head and got wet. Now it is covered with wrinkles, sand and seaweed. Is this the fate of rotten pebbles? But whether I die or not, it's up to me. How could you bury me so carelessly, and the ship didn't sink after it was completely smashed? Every piece of wood it scatters will float on the sea forever. I was hurt like this. Everything I saw was my killer. I cursed all the faces with noses and all the pine trees without apples. Now, I'm lying on my back, and I can't see anything except the white sky. Let the killer run away. Just this thin cloud, this high trembling kite. Is its slender tether still tied around the neck of the sun? What am I hesitating about? I still miss the messenger of death-the waves tirelessly affect my arm. Without red poppies, how can I surf on high rocks without picking up my lost heart? I'm a liar with my eyes open. Bodies? I slowly closed my eyes and walked into a boundless orange fog. What should I say goodbye to if I know I can't live any longer? The sun is shining, the sea is blue and the beach is golden. I quickly closed my eyes, and even I had no pity. I was cheated because I like to betray me and live with my eyes wide open. I was blinded by the sword of the sun. If I hadn't closed my eyes, I'm afraid I couldn't see anything, not even the orange fog. Miss the lost memories and look forward to the cheers in the magma layer. I can tell which direction there is a flashing white coral wound, but it is like an angry eye, searching for the murderer without blinking, demanding punishment "revenge! Face the dagger and die! " The wound coughed a little hoarse, but I couldn't spit out anything desolate. There are echoes and orange fog in the empty grottoes. I'm covered with injuries, just like a cracked land. When I was young, at dusk, I was lying on a boat in the lake, and the waves beat the boat to sleep. The wind snoring in the park is like a sensual kiss, which makes me very embarrassed. As soon as I put down the wooden paddle, I fell into the water, breaking the last sunset glow on the lake. So, I can't see anything except the stars. At dusk, the lights by the lake suddenly flashed together.
At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why such a big shiny wreath was suddenly worn on my bow. My shoulders and neck were dripping with cracked land ... When I was a child, the fragrant parasols in the swimming pool were dazzling white, the blue sky was transparent, and the blue swimsuit was opaque. At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why the swan landed with its wings hidden. When I was a child, in the theater lounge at night, my sleepy face leaned against the back of the leather sofa, which looked like my mother's arm. "How tall is Dad's green desk lamp!" I mumbled in my sleep, "lights out, mom, go on." You talked about Uncle onegin yesterday ... "When I was a child, I didn't understand why my father didn't turn off the radio so late. The sunny land, whether as a fatal wounded person or an evil revenger, should be judged by death. I shouldn't cheat in front of God, but how can I say goodbye to these miracles of life? I am reluctant to part with the last two swaying bells on the tree in autumn, and I am reluctant to part with the rainy night under the street lamp like a girl's watery eyes. The window dripping with rain is reluctant to bid farewell to the noisy evening breeze, and cigarette butts are thrown on poplar poles, the comet of Fei Huo. I hate to say goodbye to the orange fog and let my feet rot. Wherever you go, the starry sky over mud and glaciers is always charming and insignificant. I'm not afraid of this. Dig a hole, but on one condition, the price is that I can never open my eyes and let me see the orange fog forever. "It's very simple." The waves touched my arm tirelessly, and I closed my eyes forever like a wound, but the wound was as big as an eye and opened with pain.
3. What are the poems describing the reeds in Baiyangdian?
1, Ziyun Xianke Baiyangdian reed
Spring breeze and autumn water have purple reeds,
Money is like snow.
Endless jade, amazing eyes,
Wonderful pen is hard to draw.
Like a flood at sea,
The wind is surging.
Where did the fishing songs come from,
There are many beautiful women in the place where Luhua was born.
2. Recalling the Baiyangdian Lake in the south of the Yangtze River (group words) Han Zhiqiang
"Bai Yang" is good, with beautiful scenery all over the world. The Pearl of North China is famous far and near, and the water maze is wonderful. Jiangnan northland is good.
Bai Yang is good, and spring scenery is dreamy. The weeping willows on the long embankment grow new green, and the quiet waves in the Ming Lake make smoke haze. Tender reeds drill purple tips.
"Poplar" is good, and the scenery in summer is more spectacular. Painting boats and fishing boats are all human guests, singing and laughing. The children are playing in the water.
"Poplar" is good, and autumn scenery is the most pitiful, like a lotus leaf falling in a photo, like a hibiscus reflecting a beautiful face. Fish, fat and crab are fresh.
"Bai Yang" is good, the winter scenery has a hole in the sky, Yushu silver flowers meet the rising sun, and boys and girls compete on the ice boat. Smoke wafted from distant villages.
3. The fisherman Baiyangdian (group words) Ma Junyi
The sky is high and the clouds are light. Who said that the geese did not return? Ning Bichun smiled and returned. Peach blossom rain, peep in the dream, get drunk without a cup.
The water reaches the ocean and the sky is wide, and the dusk clouds are full of tricks. Eyebrows are like willows. Ruyan Liu and Cai Yun fall in love and never return.
Spend the night in Yun Jian, Baiyangdian, and borrow white lotus as a sweater. There is wine in the wind, food in the water, and happiness from generation to generation.
People dream gently in the water, and the breeze tells romance everywhere. West window moon, moon friend building, once crazy geese don't look back.
I love snow after snow, and residual red sings dusk. The ice is outside the sky, the jade is in the heart, but Mrs. Jin can't sing.
4. Night view of Baiyangdian Bridge in Li Aiguo (location first).
On the eve of the Lotus Festival, in Anxin City, the lights are bright and lively.
Watching Baiyangdian Bridge at night is spectacular, just like a dragon.
Thousands of lights reflect the blue sky,
Laughter spread all over the city.
The first lotus festival,
Long bridge becomes a dragon overnight.
Dongguan wharf
The scenery by the lake is the most prosperous.
There seem to be a hundred thousand different families.
Water, green, sky, blue and flowers,
The castle in the city locked the misty clouds.
5. Celebrate the return to Wang Geng.
Seize the people, resist the smoke,
External strength and internal corruption are the remnants of war.
Holding trembling ink in the Forbidden City,
An inch of paper shrinks into a memorial service.
One country, two systems,
A hundred years of humiliation, a night of repayment.
6. Water Store Yin Qing Zhang Wenbo
Autumn rain fishing song
The sky drops jumping notes,
Bright pearls rolling on the lotus leaf.
Quiet the birds competing to sing among the reeds,
A tidal frog drum was splashed in the rice field.
Red, late-blooming lotus;
Yellow and golden rice;
Green, willow trees on the shore;
Laughed, fisherman who closed the net.
The ship walked in the smoke,
Song-fly out of the fog.
4. What poems describe Baiyangdian?
Baiyangdian Root 1 I was badly hurt. The mast was cut by thunder. I fell like a sailboat on the sunny beach. I come from a rough sea, but I am so dry that all my water-brain, bile and bone fluid-acts as blood, leaving nothing in the sea.
I estimate that there should be two or three red poppies floating on every wave. Without the laughter of the sea, when I fell for the first time, my heart was thrown out of the wound in my chest and rolled on my head and got wet. Now it is covered with wrinkles, sand and seaweed. Is this the fate of rotten pebbles? But whether I die or not, it's up to me. How could you bury me so carelessly, and the ship didn't sink after it was completely smashed? Every piece of wood it scatters will float on the sea forever. I was hurt like this. Everything I saw was my killer. I cursed all the faces with noses and all the pine trees without apples. Now, I'm lying on my back, and I can't see anything except the white sky. Let the killer run away. Just this thin cloud, this high trembling kite. Is its slender tether still tied around the neck of the sun? What am I hesitating about? I still miss the messenger of death-the waves tirelessly affect my arm. Without red poppies, how can I surf on high rocks without picking up my lost heart? I'm a liar with my eyes open. Bodies? I slowly closed my eyes and walked into a boundless orange fog. What should I say goodbye to if I know I can't live any longer? The sun is shining, the sea is blue and the beach is golden. I quickly closed my eyes, and even I had no pity. I was cheated because I like to betray me and live with my eyes wide open. I was blinded by the sword of the sun. If I hadn't closed my eyes, I'm afraid I couldn't see anything, not even the orange fog. Miss the lost memories and look forward to the cheers in the magma layer. I can tell which direction there is a flashing white coral wound, but it is like an angry eye, searching for the murderer without blinking, demanding punishment "revenge! Face the dagger and die! " The wound coughed a little hoarse, but I couldn't spit out anything desolate. The empty caves still have echoes and orange fog. I am covered with scars, like a cracked land. When I was a child, I was lying on a boat in the lake at dusk, and the waves beat the boat and slept in the park. The wind blows me like a sexy kiss. I am embarrassed. As soon as I let go, the wooden paddle fell into the water, breaking the last sunset glow on the lake. So, I can't see anything except the stars. At dusk, the lights by the lake suddenly flashed together.
At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why such a big shiny wreath was suddenly worn on my bow. My shoulders and neck were dripping with cracked land ... When I was a child, the fragrant parasols in the swimming pool were dazzling white, the blue sky was transparent, and the blue swimsuit was opaque. At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why the swan landed with its wings hidden. When I was a child, in the theater lounge at night, my sleepy face leaned against the back of the leather sofa, which looked like my mother's arm. "How tall is Dad's green desk lamp!" I mumbled in my sleep, "lights out, mom, go on." You talked about Uncle onegin yesterday ... "When I was a child, I didn't understand why my father didn't turn off the radio so late. The sunny land, whether as a fatal wounded person or an evil revenger, should be judged by death. I shouldn't cheat in front of God, but how can I say goodbye to these miracles of life? I am reluctant to part with the last two swaying bells on the tree in autumn, and I am reluctant to part with the rainy night under the street lamp like a girl's watery eyes. The window dripping with rain is reluctant to bid farewell to the noisy evening breeze, and cigarette butts are thrown on poplar poles, the comet of Fei Huo. I hate to say goodbye to the orange fog and let my feet rot. Wherever you go, the starry sky over mud and glaciers is always charming and insignificant. I'm not afraid of this. Dig a hole, but on one condition, the price is that I can never open my eyes and let me see the orange fog forever. "It's very simple." The waves touched my arm tirelessly, and I closed my eyes forever like a wound, but the wound was as big as an eye and opened with pain.
5. Baiyangdian Lotus Poetry
Fishing songs of autumn rain in Baiyangdian
The sky drops jumping notes,
Bright pearls rolling on the lotus leaf.
Quiet the birds competing to sing among the reeds,
A tidal frog drum was splashed in the rice field.
Red, late-blooming lotus;
Yellow and golden rice;
Green, willow trees on the shore;
Laughed, fisherman who closed the net.
The ship walked in the smoke,
Song-fly out of the fog.
In the clouds, in the fog,
Fishing boats were hidden when they were young.
Old fisherman, cuckold, green hemp fiber,
His face was slightly drunk and he shook his paddle happily;
Sister Yu, red cloak, white sandals,
Close to the net bow, the song breaks through the clouds and fog.
Transparent wind weaves illusory curtains,
In the mist, the trees near the distant village darkened;
Sweet songs float in the clear water,
Among the reeds, a flock of egrets flew in surprise.
Okay, you colored notes,
What music is playing?
It is a symphonic poem praising life.
Is beating gongs and drums to celebrate the harvest. ...
6. What poems describe "Baiyangdian"?
Baiyangdian root 1, I was badly hurt. The mast was cut by thunder. I fell like a sailboat on the sunny beach. I come from a rough sea, but I am so dry that all my water-brain, bile and bone fluid-acts as blood, leaving nothing in the sea.
I estimate that there should be two or three red poppies floating on every wave. Without the laughter of the sea, when I fell for the first time, my heart was thrown out of the wound in my chest and rolled on my head and got wet. Now it is covered with wrinkles, sand and seaweed. Is this the fate of rotten pebbles? But whether I die or not, it's up to me. How could you bury me so carelessly, and the ship didn't sink after it was completely smashed? Every piece of wood it scatters will float on the sea forever. I was hurt like this. Everything I saw was my killer. I cursed all the faces with noses and all the pine trees without apples. Now, I'm lying on my back, and I can't see anything except the white sky. Let the killer run away. Just this thin cloud, this high trembling kite. Is its slender tether still tied around the neck of the sun? What am I hesitating about? I still miss the messenger of death-the waves tirelessly affect my arm. Without red poppies, how can I surf on high rocks without picking up my lost heart? I'm a liar with my eyes open. Bodies? I slowly closed my eyes and walked into a boundless orange fog. What should I say goodbye to if I know I can't live any longer? The sun is shining, the sea is blue and the beach is golden. I quickly closed my eyes, and even I had no pity. I was cheated because I like to betray me and live with my eyes wide open. I was blinded by the sword of the sun. If I hadn't closed my eyes, I'm afraid I couldn't see anything, not even the orange fog. Miss the lost memories and look forward to the cheers in the magma layer. I can tell which direction there is a flashing white coral wound, but it is like an angry eye, searching for the murderer without blinking, demanding punishment "revenge! Face the dagger and die! " The wound coughed a little hoarse, but I couldn't spit out anything desolate. There are echoes and orange fog in the empty grottoes. I'm covered with injuries, just like a cracked land. When I was young, at dusk, I was lying on a boat in the lake, and the waves beat the boat to sleep. The wind snoring in the park is like a sensual kiss, which makes me very embarrassed. As soon as I put down the wooden paddle, I fell into the water, breaking the last sunset glow on the lake. So, I can't see anything except the stars. At dusk, the lights by the lake suddenly flashed together.
At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why such a big shiny wreath was suddenly worn on my bow. My shoulders and neck were dripping with cracked land ... When I was a child, the fragrant parasols in the swimming pool were dazzling white, the blue sky was transparent, and the blue swimsuit was opaque. At that time, I was still young, and I didn't understand why the swan landed with its wings hidden. When I was a child, in the theater lounge at night, my sleepy face leaned against the back of the leather sofa, which looked like my mother's arm. "How tall is Dad's green desk lamp!" I mumbled in my sleep, "lights out, mom, go on." You talked about Uncle onegin yesterday ... "When I was a child, I didn't understand why my father didn't turn off the radio so late. The sunny land, whether as a fatal wounded person or an evil revenger, should be judged by death. I shouldn't cheat in front of God, but how can I say goodbye to these miracles of life? I am reluctant to part with the last two swaying bells on the tree in autumn, and I am reluctant to part with the rainy night under the street lamp like a girl's watery eyes. The window dripping with rain is reluctant to bid farewell to the noisy evening breeze, and cigarette butts are thrown on poplar poles, the comet of Fei Huo. I hate to say goodbye to the orange fog and let my feet rot. Wherever you go, the starry sky over mud and glaciers is always charming and insignificant. I'm not afraid of this. Dig a hole, but on one condition, the price is that I can never open my eyes and let me see the orange fog forever. "It's very simple." The waves touched my arm tirelessly, and I closed my eyes forever like a wound, but the wound was as big as an eye and opened with pain.
7. Good words and sentences praising Baiyangdian
On the fifth day of Baiyang, looking back at the flowers, lotus fragrance came to sleep. "This is a sentence left by Lu Shanji, a poet of the Ming Dynasty, when he was enjoying the lotus in Baiyangdian. It tastes very delicious. After watching the lotus flowers during the day, Lotus Xiang fell asleep, which is a model.
Different kinds of flowers confuse people's eyes, and the uncertain ingot period is supercilious.
Emperor Qianlong wrote a poem with emotion: "Wanliu Postscript Long Dike, the scenery of Kono is important. Who knows that today Zhao Bei is like Hangzhou West. "
There is also an ancient prose.
Renqiu's English, the spirit of Yanzhou. The car covers north and south, and things meet. Walking more than ten miles to Zhangzhou, there are natural wandering tributaries such as Baiyangdian and Fiona Fang, with excellent scenery and many tourists. On June 7, Geng Xu/KLOC-0, Yu and his friends came here, fascinated by the scenery here, looking for traces of the past, but they still didn't enjoy themselves, which deeply regretted. So I wrote this travel note out of ambition.
It was early in the morning by the lake, swaying under the sunrise, swaying reeds, dancing lotus in the wind, swaying gold, and still shadows. Suddenly, a wild duck started up, flew outside and became a little silent. The boat reached the depths of the lake, surrounded by reeds, with free water and a panoramic view of the crane pavilion. The speedboat flew by from time to time, and several wild owls were scared away. Suddenly, they heard several long sounds, but there was no sign of them. The boat tried its best to hold the Artemisia boat until it was flat, but it was still rippling. When the two ships alternate, they answer each other and fly happily. In June, the lotus is gorgeous, graceful, dewy, delicate and green, and the cormorant comes out of the diving into the sky and blends in with the surrounding scenery, which is wonderful. As soon as the boat entered, we arrived at a small pool, where hills were conspicuous, but it was calm at first. There were twenty or thirty fishermen scattered around, overlooking the garden on the side, which was very enjoyable. At this time, Yu and his friends had a fight, so he abandoned the boat and went ashore, swimming in the pool, chasing and playing, but failed to win. There may be two or three people cooking a picnic on the shore, holding a fire and holding vegetables, that is, the fish is ready to eat, the lake is deep and fat, accompanied by wine, fish and wine, wild vegetables and game, and they blend with each other. I am deeply envious. For a long time, although the tour didn't end, I landed without waiting for people. Zhou Zi said to him, "Is this fun?" I smiled and replied, "It's a beautiful breeze, so why hurry?" You know what?