This day is still Chai Men closed, and the pure mind blocks the vulgar thoughts. When complicated market music, pull weeds.
When we meet, we don't talk about worldly affairs, only that the garden is long in Sang Ma. My field is growing higher and higher, and my cultivated land is expanding day by day.
Often worried about sudden frost, crops wither like shrubs. Returning to the garden and living in the Wei and Jin Dynasties, Tao Yuanming has no rhyme, and he loves autumn mountains.
I sneaked into the official career network and have been away from the game for more than ten years. Birds in cages are often attached to the forests of the past, and fish in ponds yearn for the abyss of the past.
Land reclamation in the south and return to the countryside. The house is surrounded by about ten acres of land, thatched cottages.
The elm tree is behind Liu Yin and in front of Luotang in Li Tao. The neighboring village of the neighboring village is faintly visible, and there is smoke in the village.
Several dogs barked in the alley, and the mulberry tree was barked by a rooster. There is no dust and sundries in the yard, and the quiet room is comfortable and leisurely.
Trapped in a cage without freedom for a long time, I finally returned to the forest today. Pastoral Ci Tang Huai Li Bai Jia Yi three years autumn, Wanli, Ban Chao.
How to lead a white calf? Drinking water is good for clean water. Tang Meng's animal husbandry is harmful to dust, but the first thing is to raise the sky.
Thousands of trees were planted near Mitsui E68A8462616964757A 68696416F31333361326334. Yu Yue was pushed to move, but he was in his thirties and hasn't met him yet.
It was too late to write the sword, and it was dusk in Yuan Qiu. Pregnant in the morning, often confused during the day.
The sky is full of envy, vying for food shame. Looking at Jinmamen, I will take the road of firewood.
Country songs have no confidants, and eventually no friends or relatives. Who can recommend Ganquan Fu for Yang Xiong?
In spring, the village is the spring pigeon singing of the Tang family, and the apricot blossoms are white at the edge of the village. Hold an axe to cut far and wide, and hoe the spring pulse.
Yan knows his lair, so he looks at the new calendar. If you are in a hurry, you will not be royal, and if you are far away, you will travel far.
This is a question of going to the countryside. Don Wang Weiping lives on Qi's water, and there are no mountains to the east. The sun is hidden outside the mulberry trees, and the river between the wells is clear.
The shepherd boy looked at the village, and the hound came back with people. What's with silence? Fei Jing has a day off.
Autumn rain in the countryside is Tang Geng's business. In the desert, there are heavy clouds and dark clouds, and the rustling rain hangs down. For the ancient road submerged by forest, it is all wasteland.
When these five crops are harvested, several families in the isolated village cook. Turbulent flow all over the nursery, rotten leaves write autumn branches.
New firewood wets dusk, and old fishing moves in the morning. Last year, chrysanthemums were in full bloom in Dongli.
Four-season rural hybrid Fan Song becomes a big Li Jinxing fat, and wheat flowers are white and cauliflower is thin. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying.
The countryside is mixed in the four seasons. In the Song Dynasty, Fan Chengda blackbirds threw themselves into the forest, and the tourists were sparse, and the mountains in front of them went to firewood. The child paddled like a leaf, weaving a duck array and returning alone.
The newly-built farm in Fan Chengda in the Song Dynasty has a flat mud mirror, and every household grows rice while first frost. Laughter thundered and flail rang all night.
A farmhouse by the Wei River, Wang Wei, in the countryside under the setting sun, cattle and sheep go home along the path. A rugged old man in a thatched door leaned against a cane and thought about his son, the shepherd boy.
There are whistling pheasants? Full ears of wheat, sleeping silkworms and peeled mulberry leaves. Jojo and Fu Tian greet each other cordially.
No wonder I yearned for a simple life and sang "Decline" in disappointment.
2. Poems about the Four Beauty Chapters: Beauty
Yongxi stone
Fu cha what hate, hook base what grace. I wish I didn't know Fan Li. I'm still a yarn spinner.
Yong zhaojun
Pei Huan does not return, and the Great Wall is full of grass. I still hate the moon in Han Palace and always look at Hu Tian.
Yong Diao Chan
Make a promise to Dong, and then to Lu. Han Zuo is difficult to recover, why did he send his daughter?
Yong Yuhuan
I don't need hair, so I can't explain it. Dance in the sky until the sun goes down.
Digital Poetry, Zhuo Wenjun.
After a farewell, we missed each other only in March and April. Who knows that in five or six years, the lyre was unintentionally played, the eight-part essay could not be passed down, the nine chains were interrupted, and the Shili Pavilion was anxious to see it, so it was helpless and resentful.
There are thousands of words to say, and everything is annoying. I leaned against the fence ten times and climbed the mountain nine times to see the lonely geese. In August, the Mid-Autumn Festival is crowded with people, and in July, people burn incense and hold candles to ask for heaven. In the dog days of June, everyone shakes my heart. Pomegranate in May is as red as fire, occasionally watered by cold rain. In April, loquat is not yellow. I'm confused. Go and look in the mirror. Peach blossoms fall with the water in March.
3. A poem praising mother "Wandering Son" Meng Jiao, a kind-hearted mother, made clothes for her wayward son with thread in her hand.
Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?
"Yan's Showing Liu Sou" chose Bai Juyi and Si Er as the Youth Day, flying high with his mother. At that time, my parents thought that I should know today.
In the Tenth Five-Year Plan, Wang Anshi put his mother in the ditch and left his home in the shade. When I heard about Du Yu in the moonlight, I was always worried about the North and the South.
"Going home at the end of the year" Jiang Shiquan loves his son endlessly and is happy to go home. Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains.
If you encounter pity, you will ask for it. I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh.
Memories of Time Past Song Wuling Yun Yan Shu's book is broken. What do you hate in both places? The dream soul is not afraid of Chang 'an, and has borrowed the wind to ask for daily life several times. "Thinking of Mother" is full of respect and frost, the reed flowers are wet with tears, and the bald head has no dependence on Chai Fei.
Last May, Huang Meiyu Zeng Dian returned to his hometown as a cassock. "In Memory of Mother" Ni Ruilong's river is too wide to sail, and I wonder if it is near.
When I am in the dark, I am afraid I will cry more! My mother is like a bright light in the dark. When I lose my way, she will guide me to the light. My mother is like the bright moon on an autumn night. When I am lonely and helpless, she will accompany me and give me full confidence.
My mother is busy for me all day, tireless, and has no regrets. On this annual Mother's Day, I want to say thank you! This document is addressed to all mothers in the world, rich or poor. Mom, can you brush off the frost that has turned gray on your temples with the hands of dead tree skins? I know that the bow of the red ribbon bleached the black hair that I remember for a long time.
Mom, as if nothing had happened, you can still gently twist your loose teeth. Singing songs with fresh childhood memories, laughing and crying, memories are snakes of missing.
Draw a word and move forward in a zigzag way. My mother, who has residual pain in this life, still licks my arrogant poison with this cracked tongue core. I will never grow up in front of you, so a vague topic called maternal love is undoubtedly a wanderer and the most stupid person who hurts his mother. You used to be as famous as chrysanthemum, and you are old. There are still some fragrant silk on the edge of the white porcelain bottle.
I have brushed my love heart in sports, but I still can't hide your concern. The crazy autumn wind has begun. Even in the lonely shadow, mom, don't catch cold.
No matter when and where, the sunset depends on a crutch called a child. You, the seeds covered with vegetation on fertile soil are sprouting and growing, and I, at this moment. I just want to hear you call my name.
In a trance, mother, I seem to be back in the yard, the mother who drew water from the well when I was a child-Mother's Day is dedicated to all mothers in the world. Your silver hair, rickety body and lonely figure are all old. You associate with the neighboring village, you are 80 years old, and you still draw water yourself. Cooking by yourself, you still cling to my childhood dream hometown. It is the pride of your life to support our four children and four children all your life. The pigeons you let go are the concern of your life and the hope of survival. Every time I mention being nice to people, I always have a smile on my face. How can a mother who has gone through so many hardships write thousands of words with a blunt pen? I have always admired my mother. My mother is a big ship, carrying me to the sea and exploring the mysteries of life. The magical mother is an all-inclusive mountain. Raising me to grow sturdily, "Mother in Body and Mind" is a touching song, which takes me around the world and sings the history of the motherland with her beautiful tune. Mother is the spring breeze that brings life to all things in the world, and mother is the spring rain that moistens all things on the earth! Mom, I love you. You are my favorite forever. In my heart, there is a place that is unfathomable, but no one has ever asked. You are the fire of hope, illuminating my future and hope. Every dark night, I care about you. Every cold night, you give me endless warmth. It is raining in the sky, and every drop of rain is telling.
Your pale fingertips touch my temple. I can't help holding on to your skirt like when I was a child. My mother tried to keep your disappearing figure. Although the morning light has cut my dream into smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time. I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that washing it will make it lose your unique warmth. Isn't mom's running water the same in those years, heartless and afraid of fading her memory? How dare I open its screen easily? I once cried out to you for a thorn. Now I'm wearing a watch. I dare not say a word or moan, mom. I often look up at your photos sadly. Even if the call can penetrate the loess, how can I disturb your sleep? I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this. Although I wrote many songs for flowers, the sea and the dawn, my sweet and soft memory of my mother is not a torrent or a waterfall, but a dry well that flowers and trees can't sing. My mother's life is like walking on a stormy road. Mother is at the forefront. Let some umbrellas protect the children from the wind and rain, and mother will push them to me. Ah, the child under the umbrella, the mother outside the umbrella, rain is no longer rain, but a drop of happy tears sent by God to the world. Mother, a hard-working person's body can leave, but people will not leave, just as we will not forget our ancestors and forget our mother. Mother is the quilt on her body. Without it, she will feel cold. Mother is the salt in the dish. Without her, life would be dull. My mother must have her pain. The pain of wandering often hangs on her face and mixes with the smiles of her children. Great maternal love will pick a bunch of the brightest roses, which are all my dear words to my mother. My mother said I was stupid. Roses are flowers that symbolize love. No, they are also flowers that the children want to give her. I regret that I haven't heard my mother tell my childhood jokes for a long time. Mom, wuyeshu, I am sinking deeper and deeper into the world? Mother, the five-leaf tree of the world is full of poems. I am a child you forced to mature, wearing a light Tsing Yi. I am a handful of dirt, and you love every aspect of it. Tonight, you sit under the eaves of the country, gently wash your fingers and dream of an autumn leaf. Mother Kong, my son, I hope you are by the river thousands of miles away. Don't tell me that tears will prick my river! Tonight, the stars are shining, the serenade is melodious, and the mother's fingers are wrapped in the sanctity of youth. The pentaphyllum is full of poems as heavy as autumn. Her son stood on trembling hair. Don't get excited because the flute blows out of my mouth ... your life has touched me.
4. There are more than 35 ancient poems about rural life: 1 Tianjingsha Qiu Si Ma Yuan Zhiyuan withered vine old tree faint crow small bridge flowing water people ancient road west wind sunset heartbroken people in Tianya 2 lonely phoenix tree deep courtyard lock clear autumn 3 distant mountain cold steep stone path people in Bai Yunsheng. And the pale blue in remote mountainous areas, we opened your window in the garden and fields, holding our cups to talk about mulberry and hemp, and waited until the mountain holiday, the residents of Zheng 5 District, I came again at chrysanthemum time: the fragrant pond was as clear as a mirror, and the fishing rafts were not lost in the wind. There are several reed flowers floating in the water, and the sunset lake on Ban 'an Mountain is low. There are thousands of frost on the ground, and fish weave streams with waves. It has its own fishing platform, which can send autumn colors across the west of the city. 6 Pu's "patio sand autumn" sets in the lonely village. White grass, red leaves and yellow flowers. Returning home and living in Wei and Jin Dynasties, Tao Yuanming was rare in the wild and few in the backcountry. Covering Fei Jing during the day, I want to forget the dust in the empty room. When I returned to the market, I pulled weeds. There is nothing to talk about when I meet you. Sang Ma has a long way to go. The days in Sang Ma are very long, and my land is very wide. Often afraid of frost, scattered with the grass. Returning to the garden and living in Wei and Jin Dynasties, Tao Yuanming was humble and returned home. There are 10 square houses and 89 thatched houses. It's behind Liu Yin and in front of Luotang in Li Tao. The village is very warm and far away, and there is smoke in the yiyi market. In the deep alley where dogs crow and mulberry trees crow. The house is clean and messy, and the vacant rooms are idle. After staying in a cage for a long time, you will return to nature. Pastoral word is that I missed Tang Li Bai Jia Yi for three years, and I left in Wanli, Ban Chao. I haven't met anyone in their thirties yet. It was very late when I wrote the sword, and it was dusk in Yuan Qiu. Pregnant in the morning, sitting in the daytime is often confused. I envy the red owl in the sky, and I fight for the shame of chickens. I don't know any friends in the countryside, but I have no relatives in the end. Who can recommend Yang Xiong to Ganquan? In spring, I can make a spring pigeon on Tang's house. A glum traveler. Going to the countryside means that Tang lives on the water of Qi, and there are no mountains in the east. The sun is hidden outside the mulberry trees, the river is bright and the well is clear. The shepherd boy looks at the village, and the hound returns with the people. What is it when it's quiet? The gardens in Fei Jing are closed during the day. Autumn means that Tang Geng is lonely and dark, and it rains cats and dogs. It flooded the ancient forest road. Dongli flowers bloom. The four seasons are full of Fan Chengda plums, golden apricots, white wheat and thin cauliflower. No one has ever fallen on the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. The Four Seasons Garden is full of garden flowers. In the Song Dynasty, the blackbird in Fan Chengda had gone to the forest to fly. Children are like leaves, weaving ducks and returning alone. The Four Seasons Garden is full of garden flowers. The clay mirror of the newly-built field in Fan Chengda in Song Dynasty was flat. Cattle and sheep went home along the path. A rough old man was shut in the door of a thatched roof, leaning against a stick, thinking about his son, the shepherd boy. Where are the roaring pheasants? Full ears of wheat, sleeping silkworms, peeled mulberry leaves, hello, no wonder I long for a simple life and sing "decline"
5. The ancient poem about Yumenguan Tang * Wang Zhihuan's "Liangzhou Ci" has a yellow sand far away from the white clouds and an isolated city-Wan Ren Mountain. Why should Qiangdi complain about Liu? Spring breeze is not enough for Yumenguan. Tang * Wang Wei's "Weicheng Qu" Weicheng is rainy and dusty, and the guest house is green and willow. I advise you to drink more, there is no reason to go out to the western paradise. Looking at Yumenguan, I gave many honors and thanked several classes. The wind and dust hasten the hoary head, and the years damage the face. Autumn geese are low, and the bay is frightened. Shuang Hu is like a sword, and Han Yue is like a knife ring. Don't stand behind the tree, you will miss it several times. Tang * Wang Changling's Joining the Army Qinghai Changyun Dark Snow Mountain Lonely Tang * Hu Ceng's Lonely Lonely Yutong has its own atmosphere, but he did not return when he joined the army. The dust outside the door condenses on Zhang Laoting, and the fragrance at the water's edge is extinguished by the platform. In jathyapple, the windows are open, and in the spring breeze, the curtains are rolled up. Wan Li is lonely and loyal, and his heart is exhausted. Tang * Hu Ceng's "Ode to the Epic Yumenguan" Xirong dares not cross the Tianshan Mountains and will be a white horse. He stopped at midnight. Ma ce and the knife circle. Chun Xue belongs to Qingling Mausoleum, and the Yellow River in Wan Li goes around Braque Mountain. "Guan Shanyue" by Tang Li Bai has a bright moon hanging high in the sky, with a vast sea of clouds. Thousands of miles of winds have blown the battlements of Yumenguan, and China people are marching on the road, while Tatars are peeping at the blue waters of the bay. No one went back to where they had fought. Looking at the border town, homesickness is bitter. When high-rise buildings light up at night, they shouldn't sigh idly. Yuan * Zhang's "Double Tone Indulge in the East Wind" class. Lu Ji has a huating sigh Zhang Jianzhi is always in trouble. He made perilla four or five times and lived a long life. Therefore, he is lazy to be famous. Qing * Yang Changjun's "Frontier Ci" has not returned to the west, and Huxiang children are all over Tianshan Mountain. Newly planted willows are three thousand miles away, and the spring breeze is blowing.