I saw a handsome man in a hundred knots.
Jump out from the depths of the bamboo forest. a piece
Five thousand years of bamboo forest
He glanced at his eyes and parted his bun.
My veins stood out when he asked me where He Mei was going.
I'm unknown so.
He refused to give up, roared loudly and began to dance with swords.
The shock wave shook the dead leaves. It has hieroglyphics written on it.
Like a flying knife, it sticks to me.
I had nowhere to hide and jumped into a big river.
A big river full of yellow sand. Downstream-easy success
Meet the fisherman and tell me the bones at the bottom of the river.
Will come out for oral sex on a moonlit night. Or expose the clavicle like water.
Play the pipa. I'm sweating all over.
I turned south again.
The beauty is in the blue building, and her figure is very good.
Small breasts. Xi Nvhong, painting by Qin Si.
Sometimes I lean against the railing and look pale.
I was hesitating when someone pushed me into the pond from behind.
The water splashed and the moonlight shone.
At this moment, the car horn screeched from my ear.
I rubbed my temples, and I was tired.
Restore space-time order
Reading Modern Poems at Night 2 If Zhaojun doesn't fill the vacancy, Xiongnu's fighters and swords
How to deconstruct the fate of a dynasty
Hold Jeff's farewell party to bring glory.
Outside Changle Palace, the ancient road goes northbound.
Weeds tells the story of a woman.
The dust of ups and downs has also been buried.
The strategy of complacency and the end of destruction
After reading this, I will start with the meaning of word inheritance.
Strive to prepare for national dignity.
Tanxi jumped, and the map of the empire slowly unfolded in the smoke.
Lu immediately stepped onto the altar and was presented with fireworks in Shu and even the whole world.
On the three points in the world, how can we abandon the absolute?
Iliad's feat of bleeding yellow sand, now
All huddled in the black lacquer monument, clinging to the loneliness of the hero.
The feather fan retreated, and an empty city confronted the iron hoof sword.
The reverberating music clings to Ma Tiejinge.
I admire the jokes of the Three Kingdoms most.
A group of old people swept the floor outside the city alone.
The suicide note has been handed down from generation to generation, which contains the strategy of saving the world and the country.
Throughout 5000 years, there is a beautiful talk about bone scraping and healing.
There is a feat of stabbing Qin with a dagger, but it won't be worth it.
A tattoo that carves the country and the world into the bone marrow.
When "loyalty to the country" needs to be naked.
The skin of men's joints is dark.
From then on, the integrity of a nation broke out.
Many people spurn Qin Gui's betrayal and treason.
But I won't. I'm afraid of him.
The innocence that pollutes my saliva
The wall is thinner than a woman's face, and Shanhaiguan is gone.
China's solid fig leaf ravaged a country and played with a woman.
The two have the same effect, both of which are alms after getting up.
One became a courtesan and the other became the overlord of Yunnan and Burma.
Well, it's called the Central Plains people to grow their hair in braids.
Surrender to the prosperous times, but slowly lose men and flesh and blood.
Finally, he became the "sick man" in the eyes of Dongyi Island slaves.
I am afraid that words will once again become the source of prison disasters.
I'd rather lose the ability to express my anger at "rushing to the top"
Let the weakness of the mind give temporary peace.
Reading Song Ci at night, the iceberg hippo at your feet.
Scared by pillows, change the dynasty.
It became an engraving of history books, and I really
Flowing blood
Had a heroic dream all night, and immediately crossed the knife.
Dominate the ups and downs of the battlefield, and then
Wait for future generations to read me and see how they phrase it.
Reading modern poetry at night changed the world of mortals.
Waiting in ink painting and painting
Trembling with rich souls.
Moonlight dream from the other side
Finally, it becomes a whisper that disappears in one place.
Softly covered with 500 years of acacia.
A piece of paper is dark and bright, full of words.
The heart boat gently crosses.
The ripples of the years are reflected in the brow.
Strong or weak.
Always like a spring water.
A long flow along time and space
Looking for the gift of fate in elegant sentences
Legends and fairy tales of writing books
A thread is missing.
Endless world of mortals
Full of silent happiness
Try to push the window.
Every word, heart, deep loneliness.
Reading the legend of cicada should be reconciled with gentle attack.
Draw a freehand brushwork, hold hands and indulge in life.
You lean against the window, against the railing.
I am safe and sound in the world of mortals.
Silently, in the dark and sentimental soul dream.
Looking for an epiphyllum, flowers bloom and fall.
It's a reincarnation carved on the sansheng stone.
Sorting out the dim paper dust on a lonely night.
Pick up the words scattered on the floor
I just hope that between the lines
Find an old you.
Find out who I used to be
Reading Modern Poetry 4 at night vaguely sees Dai Wangshu.
Walk slowly out of the deep rain lane
Who cares?
Is the cuckoo a bird or a flower in the rain?
A village further south than Jiangnan.
Always open the door of the wanderer
That lilac girl
Miss my mother standing by the door
Who knows whether to watch or listen to autumn?
Autumn colors and autumn sounds.
Can always cross the rings of memory
It makes people happy and sad.
In Jiang Nanhai's poems and paintings
Fishing fire magically became the protagonist.
It playfully plays with the night.
Turn pale with anger.
Is it really white with anger?
In fact, night is a big bird.
It spreads its boundless wings.
Fan dreamed of Hai Xiang's son.
And that touch of green.
Immersed in the spring scenery of Jiangnan
Between the lips
Spit out long thoughts
Missing?
That's three or five elegant egrets.
Between the random steps
Poetry line
Where is this poem written?
Which mangrove forest is after the storm?
Ants are on the wounds of mangroves.
Crawl leisurely
After the fishing fire blows the white night,
But it blooms like a crimson rose.
Between white and red.
No one can measure the distance
Is it ink painting or oil painting?
But I always see my father's shadow.
With colorful and simple ideas
Warmed the eyes of fishing fire
Blow away the white at night
It's not fishing fire, it's wind.
Its invisible big hand
Turn the son of the sea from childhood to middle age
Reading Qiu Yu at night
Reading fish and fire at night
The spirit of poetry
Come from the sea
Note: Qiu Yu is the pen name of Zhang Huimou, a southern poet. This poem was written by reading his collection of poems, Fishing Fires Blow White at Night.