Indulge in the world of poetry composition 1 Drink a glass of wine, listen to a tune of Xunyang Pipa, take literature as a sail, take poetry as an oar, wander in the vast waves of 3,000 years, sing poems and sing old words fresh, and awaken the soul of a city that has been sleeping for thousands of years in the name of poetry.
Open your heart, approach the world of poetry that smells of ink but has been dusty for many years, and indulge in it. Very interesting ...
Look, a satin-like stream flows through the grass and cuts this big green carpet in two. On the big bluestone beside the stream, a unkempt and childish child, holding a fishing rod in his hand, was as motionless as a stone statue. Suddenly there was a voice asking for directions in the distance, and he waved back without looking back, still staring at the mirror-like water, for fear of scaring away the fish.
Listen, the tinkling sound of pipa echoes in my ears. In this lonely Xunyang Jiangtou, Jiangzhou Sima Lacrimosa, tears soaked my body, and the cry of the pipa girl, her own misfortune, finally turned into the sadness in the heart of this great poet.
Smell, this simple and rich fragrance, if it is not the kind of wine that poet Li Bai loves to drink? When I opened my eyes, I saw a white man sitting at a table with a pot and a small celadon glass on it. The man raised his glass, cocked his neck, drank the wine into his intestines, and seven points turned into moonlight. The remaining three-point roar became firm but gentle, and when he vomited, it was half the prosperous Tang Dynasty. So, "When will there be a moon in the sky?" I stopped for a drink today and asked, "Until, raise my glass, I asked the bright moon, bring me my shadow, let the three of us" and "Hsi Chin, give them to the boy in exchange for wine, and I will share my eternal sorrow with you." It will last forever.
"Losing my parents gives birth to my fragrance" is an interpretation of maternal love. "I am worried about the bright moon, and I will stay with the wind until the night falls." This is a symbol of friendship. "The world is turbid and I am turbid, and everyone is drunk and I wake up alone." At this time, the advice to the monarch and the farewell to the world is a satire on the dark officialdom, and it is also a patriot's pity and sympathy for the motherland.
Indulge in the world of poetry, let the soul roam in the ocean of literature, and let the dying soul infiltrate. Poetry is the wisdom of ancient writers, which has formed a strong classical complex in my heart.
Immersed in the world of poetry, Composition 2 often reminds me of the sunset in Xiting, and I don't know my way home when I am intoxicated, so Li Yian sings. In my heart, in my eyes, what fascinates me is the beautiful and rich poetry culture.
Immerse yourself in the moonlight
"When will there be a bright moon? Ask for wine from heaven. " In the gloom, looking inside, a weak man was drinking wine and singing loudly in the breeze. He looked at the full moon with a little drunk in his eyes. He spilled wine on the ground, chanting "a bottle of bright moon back to the Yangtze River", filled it with wine and drank it all at once. Drinking the bright moon alone, he is not alone. Life is like a reverse journey. I am also a pedestrian, lonely and helpless. Although I am poor, my temples are gray and I am accompanied by the bright moon. What am I afraid of? Why bother?
He was drunk in the moonlight.
And I, after reading Nian Nujiao, got drunk, even though the wine didn't touch my lips, and I was drunk in the moonlight with Dongpo.
Immerse yourself in the sunset.
"I have the shadow of dusk in my heart, and I am driving in Leyou Tomb." In the misty clouds, as far as the eye can see, a bicycle is driving on the ancient plain. The man in the car is holding the rut and watching the big and round sunset. He seemed to remember something and sighed: "to see the sun, for all his glory, buried by the coming night!" Took the pen and paper and waved away.
In the sunset, he was intoxicated.
And I, after watching Le Garden Scenic Area, although I didn't see the sunset, I was drunk and lost in the sunset with Yishan.
Indulge in the wind and rain
"The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind is floating, and life experiences are ups and downs." During the storm, the people in the prison looked out of the window and screamed loudly. A strong prison cannot imprison his soul. He is remembering the Great Song Dynasty, the magnificent mountains and rivers and the magnificent Kyoto. However, it is too late. The beautiful rivers and mountains in the Song Dynasty have been completely destroyed by Mongols, leaving only weeds and collapsed houses everywhere. He was silent. That night, he dreamed of the Song Dynasty and the place where he gave everything. In the dream, he smiled and he was drunk. Drunk in the land of the old country, I can clearly see two lines of clear tears flowing out of my eyes.
He was intoxicated in the storm.
And I, after reading Crossing Ding Yang, have never experienced wind and rain. But I was drunk and immersed in the wind and rain with Wen Tianxiang.
In poetry, I was intoxicated ...
Indulge in the world of poetry writing 3 Poetry is full of moving vitality and charm, bearing the prosperity and vicissitudes of Chinese culture.
With some surprise, some longing and some awe, I opened the door to poetry. When the ink came, I was already intoxicated in the world of poetry.
These rivers are beautiful. I walk on the edge of the Yangtze River. The green hills on both sides are hazy in the fog, and the Yangtze River at the foot of the mountain is flowing, flashing indigo light and flowing eastward. Isn't that the original Tianmen Mountain? It was washed away a lot by water. A thousand years ago, Li Bai also passed by here, looking at the rolling water of the Yangtze River, chanting: "Tianmen broke the Chu River and Higashi Shimizu flowed here. The green hills on both sides of the strait are opposite, and the sails are alone. " Where did the Poet Fairy go? Now, only through time and space can I dream back to the prosperous times of the Tang Dynasty. On Tianmen Mountain, I seem to see the gray back, and I am singing poetry with great ambition. As the sun sets, a solitary sail crosses the edge of the sun, crosses two opposite green hills and reaches the place where the water meets the sky.
Intermittent light rain, during the Qingming Festival, people on the road are miserable and cold as hell. The woman with an umbrella is dressed in silver. The rain falls on the umbrella, making a "tick" sound, which is fascinating. A gentleman in blue is standing in intermittent rain. Isn't that Du Mu? He is anxious to find a restaurant. The old buffalo is by the lake, putting the cowherd on the back of the cow, and the shepherd boy points at it. Therefore, in the fragrance of apricot flowers, people want to have a big drink. Du Mu quickly thanked him and pointed the poet's wandering heart to the depths of a crimson apricot flower. That touch of pink warmed the poet and me after more than 1000 years.
Poetry, like a rainbow on the horizon, is also like a dream in a quiet night. The ancients put the emotions accumulated for thousands of years in the world of poetry, so that I can read them carefully and recall the joys and sorrows of the Millennium.
Indulge in the world of poetry, let poetry accompany me, the journey is not lonely.