In the green garden, sunflowers are exposed to the sun.
Spring fills the earth with hope, and everything presents a scene of prosperity.
I am always afraid that when the cold autumn comes, the trees in Ye Er will turn yellow and the grass will wither.
The river runs to the sea, and when will it return to the west?
If young people don't work in time, they will only regret for life when they are old.
Jiande River Sleeping at Night
Author: Meng Haoran
Stop the boat in a foggy small state, when new worries come to the guest's heart.
The vastness of the wilderness is deeper than trees, and the moon is very close to the moon.
A bell ringing in the rain
The cicadas in autumn are so sad and urgent, facing the pavilion, it is in the evening and a sudden rain has just stopped.
All the accounts are not in the mood. I miss places and Lanzhou to urge me to send them.
Holding hands and staring at tears, there is no rain to choke.
Thinking about thinking, thousands of miles of smoke, dusk, chutiankuo.
Affectionate since ancient times, parting hurts the body, more comparable to the cold autumn festival!
Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? Yang Liuan, Xiao Feng and the waning moon.
This is a long time, people who love each other are not together, and I even expect to be satisfied with the good weather and scenery in name only.
Customs are strange, who to talk to.
Untitled
Li shangyin
It was a long time ago that I met her, but since we separated, the time has become longer, the east wind is blowing and a hundred flowers are blooming. Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night. In the morning, she saw her hair cloud changing in the mirror, but she bravely faced the cold of the moonlight with her evening song. There are not many roads to Pengshan. Oh, Bluebird, listen! -Give me what she said! .
Qiu wan shan ju
Tanghuangtao
I searched everywhere, and I looked at it in embarrassment.
Lonely smoke worries about the setting sun, and big trees hate the west wind.
The silence of the mountains and the sound of firewood reveal the coldness and poverty.
At this time, foreign affairs, humor with several people.
Wisteria falls
Author: Zong Pu I can't help but stop.
I have never seen such a blooming vine. I saw a brilliant lavender, falling from the sky like a waterfall, with no beginning and no end. It's just a deep and shallow purple, as if flowing, laughing and growing. On the big purple banner, there is a little silver light, just like splashing water. A closer look shows that it is the brightest part of each purple flower, flirting with the sun.
Spring has faded here, and there are no people enjoying flowers and no butterflies around bees. Some are sparkling and blooming vines on this tree. Flowers are next to flowers, one after another, pushing each other around, so lively!
"I have blossomed!" They are laughing.
"I have blossomed!" They shouted.
Every ear of flowers blooms above and waits for release below. The color is light and dark, as if purple has settled down and settled in the tenderest and smallest bud. Every blooming flower is like a small full sail with a sharp bottom. The cabin is bulging, like a smile that can't help laughing, and it is about to open. What's the fairy dew and honey? I leaned over and picked one.
But I didn't pick it. I have no habit of picking flowers. I just stood and stared, feeling that this wisteria waterfall was not only in front of my eyes, but also flowing slowly in my heart. Flowing, taking away the anxiety and sadness that have been pressing on my heart these years. This is a secret about life and death and brotherhood. I am immersed in the brilliance of this dense flower, and there is nothing else for the time being, only peace of mind and happiness of life.
In addition to the brilliance here, there is also a faint fragrance. The fragrance seems to be lavender, and it covers me gently like a dream. It suddenly occurred to me that there was a big wisteria outside my house more than ten years ago. It climbed high beside a dead locust tree, but the flowers were never sparse. A bunch of flowers hung on the treetops of things alone, as if looking at the color and testing something. Later, even the sparse flower clusters disappeared. Other wisteria frames in the garden were also pulled down and fruit trees were planted. At that time, it was said that there was an inevitable relationship between flowers and life corruption. I once thought regretfully: There are no vines here.
After so many years, the vines have blossomed again, and they are so prosperous and dense. Purple waterfalls cover the thick branches of the disc, flowing and flowing to people's hearts.
Flowers and people will encounter all kinds of misfortunes, but the long river of life is endless. I touched the little purple flower hut, which was filled with the wine of life. It is full of sails, sailing on the river full of flowers. It is one of ten thousand flowers, and it is by each flower that a splendid ten thousand flowing waterfall is formed.
In this faint purple light and faint purple fragrance, I feel that I have accelerated my pace.
1May 6, 982
I'm very upset these days. Sitting in the yard enjoying the cool tonight, I suddenly remembered the lotus pond I walked through every day. It should look different under the light of this full moon. The moon rises gradually, and the children's laughter on the road outside the wall can no longer be heard; My wife is patting and skipping in the room, humming cotton songs vaguely. I put on my big shirt and walked out the door.
Along the lotus pond, there is a winding little cinder road. This is a secluded road; Few people walk during the day, and it is lonely at night. Around the lotus pond, there are many trees and lush. On one side of the road, there are some willows and some trees with unknown names. On a moonless night, the road is gloomy and a little scary. It's fine tonight, although the moonlight is still very weak.
I was the only one on the road, walking around with my hands behind my back. This world seems to be mine; I also like to go beyond my usual self and go to another world. I love excitement and peace; Like to live in groups, like to be alone. Just like tonight, under the boundless moon, a person can think of anything and think of nothing, and feel that he is a free person. What must be done and said during the day can be ignored now. This is the beauty of being alone; I just appreciate the boundless moonlight with lotus fragrance.
On the winding lotus pond, I look forward to the leaves of Tian Tian. The leaves are high out of the water, like an elegant dancer's skirt. Among the layers of leaves, some white flowers are scattered, some bloom gracefully, and some bloom shyly; Like a pearl, like a star in the sky. The breeze blew, sending wisps of fragrance, like a faint song on a tall building in the distance. At this time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, passing through the lotus pond in an instant. The leaves are close side by side, so there are clear wave marks. Below the leaves is the running water of the veins, which is covered and can't see some colors; Leaves are more exposed to the wind.
Moonlight, like running water, falls quietly on this leaf and flower. A thin layer of blue mist floats in the lotus pond. Leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; Like a dream in a sarong. Although it is a full moon, there are faint clouds in the sky, so it can't shine; But I think this is just a benefit-deep sleep is indispensable, and nap is unique. Moonlight shines through the bushes, and the bushes at the height cast uneven and mottled shadows; The sparse shadows of curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is uneven; But light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as a famous song played in the Vatican.
Around the lotus pond, there are trees far and near, and willows are the most. These trees surround a lotus pond; Only on one side of the path, there are some gaps, which seem to be reserved for moonlight. An example of the color of trees is cloudy, which at first glance looks like a cloud of smoke; But the abundance of willows can be recognized in the smoke. There are distant mountains on the treetops, just a little careless. There are still one or two lamps leaking through the cracks in the tree. What is listless is the eyes of those who are sleepy. At this time, the most lively are cicadas in the tree and frogs in the water; But the excitement is theirs! I have nothing. I suddenly remembered the matter of picking lotus. Lotus picking is an ancient custom in the south of the Yangtze River. It seems to have a long history, but it flourished in the Six Dynasties. You can get a rough idea from this poem.
Then I remembered & gt sentence in:
Lotus is picked in autumn in Nantang, and the lotus is over the head; Bow your head and get lotus seeds, green as water. If someone picks the lotus tonight, the lotus here will be considered "too much"; You can't just see some shadows of running water. This makes me really miss Jiangnan. -thinking like this, I suddenly looked up and felt that it was my own door; Gently pushed the door in, there was no sound, and my wife had slept for a long time.
Zhu Ziqing (1927, July, Beijing Tsinghua Campus. )