Landscape poems and paintings
Scorching sun? Father? Wheat fields
Who is the stooped wheat lover watching the jointing of wheat?
Who wields the sickle and the hoe to ripen the crops?
Father, your thick shoulders have been bathed in the waves of wheat for many seasons, and the white hair on your head reflects the vicissitudes of life.
Under your feet, there is a piece of warm soil brewing with the fragrance of sweat. Father, are the wheat ears with a smile on your face the hope watered by your sweat?
With a shout, the majestic and rough unscripted ballad spreads the first fruits along the soil turned by the plowshare. Your dark skin carries the sky and the scorching sun on your back.
A bowl of strong liquor leads to a series of soul-stirring legends. After the yellowing lunar calendar, your standing back is like a sculpture watching the wheat fields and the plump granary of the earth.
Ah! Father, this warm wheat field in summer is the never-ending windmill of your life.
Needle and thread? Mother? Lighting
A thin sickle in autumn is the rickety posture of the mother's waist.
The figures threading needles and threads reflected under the lamp can also form a wood board painting with rich rural charm; the high-rolled trousers legs, no matter which piece of soil you stand on, will express a simple and moving song. native poetry.
The symphony of pots and pans in your hands is as simple and beautiful as the local accent, the curling smoke is floating with wisps of warmth, and the jars of nostalgic wine are brewed in those hard-working days. , the rich fragrance is intoxicating without being intoxicating.
Turn the pulley of dawn, turn your heavy life. The fields with undulating wheat waves lie across your vicissitudes of life. Your days are in the rising tide of wheat waves, rushing into the golden autumn one by one.
You are a mature grain! Obscurity is full of life and beautiful.
Standing, it is a golden wheat;
Lying down, it is a humble and plump land.
Ah! Mother, the falling glow of autumn is your most beautiful face.
Season·Landscape·Monument
When you stand, you become Xiaomi’s golden fairy tale;
When you stand, you become Xiaomi’s straight back Liang.
Under the high sky, a straw hat and coir raincoat support a belief, and a unique sculpture stands as an unshakable monument in the field.
The days flow in black and white, and the grids of the fields are filled with aphorisms of hope. Those early crops, under your care in every possible way, also have a sweet smile in their dreams, without worrying that the birds will snatch them away. As a bride, your dreams are as sweet as dew and as beautiful as flowers.
When the bright sickle becomes the scenery of a season, the scarecrow hands the richness of golden autumn to the father and mother, once again interpreting the true meaning of life in the fire.
Ah! Father and mother, in the warm wind of the season, you stand as the most beautiful scenery in my heart, an eternal monument!