1.
Waiting for those little swallows to fly from the south.
In the spring of April, I watched the rain flowing down the eaves.
Watching a child fall asleep at dusk in the foggy south of the Yangtze River.
At that time, I took an umbrella from the West Lake and went south by ferry with you.
You drift eastward.
In the dream, the distant northland makes you no longer envy Jiangnan.
2.
Looking at the graceful figure of Jiangnan girls, I fell asleep.
I will look for them one by one with you on the edge of the big river and in the boat on the smoky river.
Champion, champion, champion
Those girls and women had eyebrows in the Ming and Qing Dynasties.
The faint sadness of Jinguancheng.
(This is that-
Bai Juyi's Jiangnan, the Jiangnan where the scenery once seemed familiar.
Su Dongpo's "Jiangnan" sang "Dajiangdong" to the Jiangnan where the waves were exhausted.
Li Qingzhao's Jiangnan was miserable when it was warm and cold.
That was Jiangnan many years ago.
From south to north, from north to south, the wind blows every year.
Jiangnan, cold and windy.
Being shamelessly trampled by aliens.
Many innocent people died in Jiangnan during the war.
It is the charming and bleak Jiangnan where the soldiers who left their hometown fought.
(Yes-
Jiangnan in the past, Jiangnan in the dream, Jiangnan now.
Rebuild after painful bloodshed and tears
My parents love me, cultivate me, hope me and raise me in Jiangnan.
Is a land and people, always dense, pregnant, evergreen Jiangnan)
3.
South of the Yangtze river
Ride on a thin leaf
Come back with fallen flowers in your arms.
Come back with a scarlet on the black land.
It's the homecoming of those wanderers with tears in their eyes.
If so, would you?
I'll take you to see the scenery in Jiangnan.
4.
January Jiangnan
I hold your hand and listen to the thin chirp of the soil on the cold embankment.
In February, the willows in the fields by the stream have begun to wake up.
In March, they began to make up and went to the tailor's shop to cut a suitable dress.
In April, they wore beautiful coats and were affectionate.
Seduce teenagers and men who start to grow up.
Those birds, frogs, flowers and grass are also noisy.
Wait until May.
What will be a vibrant Jiangnan?
Children in June never go to bed early and get up late.
Their numbers passed from village to village.
Cross from one field to another.
Sometimes I will herd cattle on the hillside and take a fishing boat.
Embracing the weak bones of the pink girl I love, listening to all kinds of sounds of nature.
Play flute and piano.
See Xu Xian and Bai Niangzi very much in love)
In July, the crops in the field are ripe.
Pick up a handful of ears of rice and look at the white geese and ducks in Xiang Tiange.
Men, men who drink white wine.
Call his wife and children at the dinner table at dusk.
This is a family that began to enjoy life after a hard day's work.
In August and September, a woman's figure shuttled through fields and pastures.
At the threshing floor and the market, at night, as usual.
Lying in his man's arms warmly.
Jiangnan, under the painter's pen, is still a beautiful and clear watercolor painting. The old cow returns to the building at dusk, and the shepherd boy plays the flute on the cow's back. ...
Jiangnan in front of us is a poem? Is this a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? Bridges and flowing water are your tenderness, and highways are your strength. The wide road divides the south of the Yangtze River into a huge grid book ―― a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.
A straight road is an infinite staff, and all kinds of vehicles are jumping notes, playing a song of celebration. Flowing with joy, rolling with passion, singing fiery red and expressing prosperity. ...
Jiangnan songs-pastoral music and disco!
Xue pan
Looking forward to snow is looking forward to your mood.
It seldom snows in the south. Who is standing on a cloudy day?
A tree, on a high hill, is waiting for the colorful winter alone.
The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is turned away by the lintel of the season. Every time I lose weight,
The first frost is always remembered as the back of a dream.
It hasn't snowed yet, and my heart is as empty as a bird's whine.
A deciduous tree, its desolate appearance, makes the whole season lonely.
It snows south of the Yangtze River.
Like a flock of frightened birds, white feathers fall with the wind,
My heart fluttered on vilen, and I couldn't utter a moan.
It snows in Jiangnan. A lot of unforgettable pain does not come from cold, when your eyes shrug.
Glaciers, flying thoughts blocked all retreat.
It is a bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring rain that turns green quietly.
Snowflakes melted into my tears.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow.
Beautiful songs are floating in the snow, and these wonderful notes come from far away places.
God, it reached the peak of the season overnight.
Everything silently plays the symphony of the earth and sings in unison for the coming spring.
The germ under the snow is surging in the spring tide.
I'm not an audience in front of the stage. My heart joined in dancing and singing,
Enthusiasm is high and never ends.
Watch the children play with snow.
At this moment, the earth is like a kind mother. Love extends wider than the seasons,
Let the children's footprints write the happiness and joy of childhood in the snow.
Make a snowman. Throw snowballs. Have a snowball fight. Children's innocent eyes and laughter smooth the wrinkles of the soul.
A snowman piled high caught my attention, and I suddenly felt that snowman was myself.
Soon integrated into the children's sunshine world.
Snow is silent.
Snow is silent.
A group of children playing with snow awakened a sleeping dream, and the snow lit up the morning.
Is the sky full of freedom and joy that makes the earth tremble slightly, or is it my heart,
Longing to fly freely like snow.
I saw the earth holding a holy heart, and it was still calm in the face of cheering children.
Walk into the snow
Walking into the snow, am I getting old or young?
If I am getting old, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes lit up by fairy tales?
If I am getting younger, why are my temples gray?
Thoughts are like falling in love.