The wild fragrance is rich, and the fragrance is "spring"; Good wood and beautiful yin "summer"; The noble "autumn" of wind and frost; Get to the bottom of "winter". China Xia Shang
Five thousand years of culture has a long history. The word "spring" in the poem is full of spring, the word "summer" in the poem is full of vitality, and the word "autumn" in the poem.
It is the voice of geese flying, and the poem "winter" is cold and snowy. I especially like the poem "Winter".
In winter, grandpa held me in a rocking chair by the fire and taught me to recite Tang poems one by one. I clearly remember reciting the first one.
This poem is "Plum Blossom" by Wang Anshi: A few plums in a corner, and hanling alone. It's not snow in the distance, Dimfragrance is coming. What a beautiful poem!
! I love plum blossom, its nobility, its modesty and its tenacity.
Gradually, I came into contact with an ancient poem describing winter. Four Qi Songs by Wang Wei, Autumn Wind Rising, Winter Snow Flying, and Four Seasons by Tao Yuanming.
"Autumn moon on the ground, cold pine in winter ridge." Liu Zongyuan's Jiang Xue ""There are no birds in hundreds of mountains, and there are no footprints in thousands of paths. Lonely boat Li Weng, fishing alone in the cold.
Jiang Xue. "Among them, I like Liu Zongyuan's Jiang Xue best. He vividly described the atmosphere and scenery in winter.
With the passage of time, I have a deeper understanding of poetry. In this comprehensive study, I began to contact Yuanqu again.
This mystery prompted me to approach it. Among the Yuan songs, I like Guan Hanqing's Song of Great Virtue (Winter) best: snow powder flowers, dancing pears, and never seeing the village again.
Four or five families. Scattered pictures, see crows in the sparse forest. Under the shadow of yellow reeds, the Qingjiang River leans against the fishing pond. The artistic conception of poetry is really beautiful! There is no one in this poem
Traces are not short of excitement, cold is not short of life, giving people an immersive feeling. I started reading Bai Pu's song "Clear Sand".
Winter: I drew a door, crescent moon at dusk. At first, I was confused. I was about to turn over the poem when the teacher stopped me.
Poetry, like tea, needs to be carefully tasted, pondered and read repeatedly to know its meaning.
I knocked on the door of poetry and became interested in poets and more poems describing winter. Although ancient poetry has been far away from us for thousands of years.
History, but under our careful taste, ancient poetry seems to have shaken itself into our lives. Now I compare them with modern ones.
Different poems have accumulated a lot of knowledge in their study. I am willing to hold your hand and knock on the door of ancient poetry again and enter the country of poetry.
Degree.