The dragonfly flies away from the water, what blooms are ripples, what is spread is clouds, what is achieved is poetry, what it boils down to is cultural commitment, and it is a growth process.
The cold stone is silent, the withered grass is drifting, and there are many tourists, wandering hearts, white hair; the lonely moon is cold, the sycamore trees are broken, some are home and country, but close to the countryside; the ancient road is deserted, and the lacquer carvings are carved , what remains is the difficulty of crossing the official sea and the wild and interesting mountains and rivers.
A ray of moonlight and three points of sword energy are the entire prosperous Tang Dynasty, the Taixuan Sutra is not drunk by wind and frost, and the evergreen ancient and modern names of chivalrous bones; a bamboo stick and two mango shoes are a song Natural and unrestrained, full of joy, lonely but not lonely, on the contrary, "The light beats the horse, who is afraid? I can live my whole life in the mist and rain." Thousands of kindness are of no use to me, and thousands of bells are of no use to me. The autumn wind is rustling, and the plum blossoms and cranes are not blooming. The sun is dyed with lead, and it is widely spread in China.
The Yangtze River is originally a quiet river. It leads to Wu Gorge in the north and Xiaoxiang in the South Pole. It is a thoroughfare that benefits from the development of water. There is a small self, and there is still pity for the water of my hometown, and I see the boat sailing thousands of miles away; there is a small self, and there is a river that will not waste forever; there is a small self, and there are travelers outside the green mountains, and the boat is in front of the green water...
Dongting , originally from a jade plate in a bay, with vast mist and waves, where the sky and water meet. There is a small self, which is neither happy with things nor sad with oneself; there is a small self, where the setting clouds and solitary swans fly together, and the autumn water is the same color as the long sky; there is a small self, who can send me thousands of miles of brocade books, and I will fly away after all the time. Come on...
The cold moon is originally a cold glow, bright and boundless, and it has always been bright in ancient and modern times. There is a small self, there is the solitary smoke in the desert, and the setting sun on the long river; there is a small self, there is the intoxication of the hometown, and it is hard to dream of the homeland; there is the small self, there is the vast sea of ??ice hundreds of feet, the pale clouds thousands of miles away, there are sounds from all four sides, and there are long smoke for thousands of miles. The setting sun and the lonely city are closed...
The West Lake is originally a water pool, a wind, a heart full of green, a rain, a mood, a piece of snow, and a white day. There is a small self, there is a trace of the long embankment, a pavilion in the middle of the lake, and a mustard boat. There is a small self, and there is a desire to compare the West Lake to the West. It is always appropriate to put on light makeup and heavy makeup. There is a small self, there are random yellow flowers, some butterflies flying, and new red leaves. No one looks at it; there is a small self, there is green shepherd's purse, millet and millet are lamenting...
The five mountains have been competing for beauty for thousands of years; the four seas are boundless, and the blue sky is blue in the heart. The clouds and rain in Wushan have brought me a hundred sorrows in vain; the tall gorges and flat lakes, but fortunately the goddess is unharmed; the city towers are dangerously high, but Jingkang is still left behind, and it is hard to repay the shame; the orchid is on the ground, and it is hard to come back with a sigh. The green cliff is cold, and the wind and rain are natural in ancient and modern times; the new wind is hunting, and the flag of the end of the war is half-rolled and broken.
The country is so beautiful, countless heroes have cut off their waists, their bellies are empty, and the withered pines and wormwood grow. If there is a big world and a small self, there will be people who come to one place with smiles and cries, and return alone with cries. If there are natural feelings, there will be Cangshan Mountains covered with cold snow.
The police monologue, I would rather die on a cold stone; the mountains and rivers are pleasant, the poems and Buddhas remain in the mountains; the pastoral is peaceful, the deep understanding is not sad, the "Return to the Fields" flashes; the frontier is bitter and cold, and the bow and knife are covered with heavy snow , the cilantro and the Qiang flute sob; bold and majestic, the eternal rivers cross the river; graceful and clear, the starry sky is pulsating, and the sadness is comparable to the Hongmeng.
Thousands of selves, hundreds of Chinas, one big world, a wisp of natural feelings.
Hanging a pot of old wine, half a hundred lives have passed, leaning against the pine tree, leaning on an old stone, walking on the road, resting in the wild, singing a short song, and whistling in the breeze for a lifetime. Transformed into a pair of wings, they carry with them the desolation of the prehistoric times, the sorrow of the world and the indescribable indescribability of the battlefield, blowing away the heart of the world, blowing away the wind and dust, leaving behind a breath of fresh air and a stream of sweet spring, which will be fragrant for a long time and will be unforgettable.
The ego is insignificant to the world, but feelings are culture, and no Chinese are without culture.
Walking in the sea of ??poetry, there is the small self, the big world, and natural feelings!