"Two orioles sing green willows, egrets sky-high." Outside my window is the snowy Western Hills. My door often says "goodbye" to ships sailing eastward.
2. "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night" Tang Du Fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes. Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.
The wild path is dark, and the river is bright. Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
3, the garden is not worth Song * Ye Shaoweng.
Perhaps my master was worried that my wooden shoes trampled his precious moss and tapped Chai Men lightly, but no one opened it for a long time. But this spring spring, after all, can't be caged. Look, there is a pink apricot sticking out of the wall.
4. Haruka Zhu
Looking for the fragrance of Surabaya when winning the day, the boundless scenery is new for a while, and it is easy to distinguish the east wind, and the four seasons are always spring.
5. Spring Xiaotang * Meng Haoran
Sleeping sickness in spring unconsciously broke the morning, and the chirping of birds disturbed my sleep. How many flowers fall after a stormy night.
6. Jueju Song Zhinan
The shade of ancient wood is a short awning, and the stick thistle helps me cross the east of the bridge. The clothes are wet and the apricot blossoms are raining, and the face is not cold.
7, birdsong Tang Jian * Wang Wei
People are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and empty. When the moon comes out, the birds are startled, and the sound enters the spring stream.
8. Yu pigeon soup * Zhang
In front of Mount Cisse, egrets fly freely, plump mandarin fish swim happily on the river, and peaches floating on the water are so bright and full. An old man in the bank, wearing a green bamboo hat raincoat and a green raincoat, braved the wind and rain and fished leisurely. He was fascinated by the beautiful spring scenery and didn't even go home in the rain.
9. Tang * He's
Jasper dressed as a tree, hanging down ten thousand green silk tapestries. I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors.
10, You Chunsong in Fengle Pavilion * Ouyang Xiu
Mangroves and green hills are dying, and grass in the long suburbs is endless. Visitors, no matter how old they are, will walk to the front of the exhibition hall in spring.
1 1, Chunwangtang * Du Fu
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested. Sad state, can not help but burst into tears, amazing birds, leaving sorrow and hate.
The war lasted for more than half a year, and letters from home were rare, with a hundred thousand gold. Twisting with melancholy, scratching my head and thinking, the more I scratch my white hair, I can hardly insert a hairpin.
12, Jiangnan Chuntang * Du Mu
Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills. More than 480 ancient temples were left in the Southern Dynasties, and countless pagodas were shrouded in wind and rain.
Gaoding village residence 13
In February, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willows are drunk with spring smoke. The children came back from school early, so they were busy flying kites in the east wind.
14, recalling Tang Jiangnan * Bai Juyi
The scenery in Jiangnan is very beautiful, and the picturesque scenery has long been familiar. Make it at sunrise, the river is better than fire. This river is as green as blue in spring. How can we make people not miss Jiangnan?
15, Qingming Hall * Du Mu
Mourning day, drizzle like tears; Pedestrians on the road want to die. Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.
16, Hui Chong's "Night Scene of the Spring River" Song * Su Shi
Two or three peach blossoms outside the bamboo forest and ducks in the water first noticed the warm spring. The beach is covered with wormwood, asparagus is beginning to sprout, and puffer fish are preparing to swim upstream from the sea back to the river.
17, early spring Tang * Han Yu
There is a lot of silk in the sky above the avenue, which is as delicate and moist as butter. The grass is vaguely connected in the distance, but it looks sparse in the near future. This is the most beautiful season of the year, far better than the late spring of the green willow.
18, Taohuatang of Dalin Temple * Bai Juyi
In the world of April, the flowers have withered, and the peach blossoms in the ancient temples have just bloomed. I want to find a place where my life is dying, but I don't know that it has been moved here.
19, berthing in Guazhou Song * Wang Anshi
Jingkou and Guazhou are just separated by a water, and Zhongshan has only a few heavy green mountains. Jiang Nanan spring breeze is green, when will the bright moon shine on me?
Prose about spring:
Spring of the soul
bright red
My hometown has not yet awakened from hibernation, and Guangzhou is full of flowers. Come to Guangzhou with a vision, with a pen and a stack of manuscripts, and bear the lightness and heaviness of life to the maximum extent. A pen is rusty, and classical feelings cannot find their way in the world of mortals. I hide in the depths of spring and look up at the sky.
It is a wonderful thing to enjoy flowers in Huacheng. I have been thinking about my relationship with Guangzhou. Half a year ago, I quit my job, studied English in Nanchang for half a year, and applied for a postgraduate degree in South China Normal University. Now, I rented out the fence of South China Normal University and sat on the balcony on the fourth floor, basking in the sun and drinking tea. In front of us is an empty sports field, a red round plastic track, and green grass on the football field, which makes people think. Near dusk, more and more runners converge into a flowing river, heading for an endless destination. I've always liked sports, and I've always been a bystander. The bystander has the leisure of the bystander, and the performer has the brilliance of the performer. In Guangzhou, I have a quiet room of my own, from which I can inhabit wandering souls.
Life has lost too much weight after all the busyness. In the excitement of the New Year, I drank again and again, and alcohol filled all my days. The back of youth has gradually drifted away, and the enthusiasm for breaking through has made me stumble. A person who loses everything is not easy to get drunk. In alcohol, I may have forgotten some familiar China ancient classics, Tang poetry and Song poetry, and English words I once recited at dusk. I have always been worried about the loss of these things, which seems to add a vicissitudes of life. Wine is as tasteful as life. In Guangzhou, I learned to drink beer and red wine gracefully. All the homesickness rippled in the cup, and the warm language was changed into beautiful words, as if it were shining. Gradually, I have begun to delete unhealthy chapters in my life, such as wine, and find the home and destination of my soul again. In spring, there is no audience. In spring, let me use up my last thoughts, put on my last clothes, wake up from countless waits and come back from distant hopes. I can't sleep in spring.
The spring in Guangzhou is intoxicating, and I am beginning to sprout.
Miss the spring in my hometown
bright red
The world is prosperous, and I chose to live in a lonely heart.
In a secluded corner of Guangzhou, I quietly wait on the edge of thinking and miss the spring in my hometown.
I left my hometown because of a nostalgia. The search by day and night enriched me. On idle days, holding hands with your left hand is like stroking the spring in your hometown. I calmly drank the flavor of my hometown, the fragrance floating in the teacup and the warm temperature made poetry begin to boil. Green images are vividly in my mind, chasing the rural areas of Shan Ye in my memory. I miss everything related to my hometown, poetry and life. I miss the snow covering our roof. In the upper reaches of spring, my mother is washing radishes by the stream. She always wants to live a full life. Through my mother's rickety figure, I saw that the sky was not open, it was only a little wider than our village. When the firewood is burned out in winter, it's time to cook in spring. Just like my pen tip, I always think about the speed of peach blossom at home, how to catch up with the swallows flying in the sky, how to quickly occupy the layout of this season, and let flowers become the theme of spring from now on. The smoke in my hometown may bend in the wind and I can't correct it. No matter how hard I pricked up my ears, I couldn't hear the spring in my hometown. Her silence is thousands of miles away from me.
Whose hand weaves the spring in my hometown? Who told me to go and keep looking back Beauty is love hidden in the heart, and love is beauty hidden in the heart. A person is actually a big bottle, full of love and care, just a hard secular, let us always be careful, for fear of missing it, such damage is worse than a drought. A person is actually a big bottle, which contains water, food and days. If there is anything else, it must be the way we get up in the morning sun and push open the door, and our peace in the sunset. Our hearts are tied together, and we keep our mouths shut. We have to bear such a heavy body all our lives. Spring is like a river, coming from far away, going far away, coming and going, everything seems to be reincarnation. It is only fate, but also the piety of the soul. The most beautiful spring is in my hometown. The most beautiful spring is a 30-year-old man who grabs the tail of spring and misses it again and again. The most beautiful life is so ordinary that we have to walk in this world as slowly as possible.
I often think that the wind has no home. It is better to run with the wind than to live by water. The mind is like a boat, anchored on the calm water and gradually disappearing into the twilight. "Spring tides bring rain late and come in a hurry", which love brings me thoughts tonight? Spring in my hometown, it must be smiling.
It is spring outside the window.
bright red
Every spring, I move my desk to the corner near the window. In this way, through the window, I can see large tracts of Chinese milk vetch in the field, listening to the eager night filled with frolicking frog drums. I think this is a very meaningful thing. My reading and writing are poetic.
I have been looking for spring, from books, from life, from the atmosphere I created. I try to embroider spring into the picture of life, like an unbeaten flower. This beautiful mistake bewitched me, so I chose to stick to it, stick to this country, stick to this hut, and weave a gorgeous halo for my life.
Life is our last effort on earth. This determines that my aesthetic relationship with reality is just a beautiful flower. On a sunny day, there is another kind of flower in the study through the open window. The spring rain continues, and I am afraid that this naughty elf will get my beloved book wet. I closed the window to keep the rain out. The sound of roof water hitting the soil keeps coming, pecking away the noise of this season bit by bit and arousing the tranquility of this season bit by bit. In the wind and rain, it was quiet. At night, the falling rain drenches the frog's ups and downs, and I am always a little scared. In this warm and cold season, the ruthless rain will douse the passionate frog, just as the Tang poem said, "Strange frogs rest for one night, and the east wind will be cold for ten days." However, my worry is unnecessary. The spring of 2 1 century is probably warmer than that of thousands of years ago. The development of the times is amazing, the temperature is getting higher and higher, and there are fewer and fewer poems. Chunyu is good at reading, but I think beauty has reached the highest level in loneliness. This is really because there is a spring in my heart.
In spring, everything is busy starting. Butterflies are flying, bees are pollinating, and swallows come from another world for an inseparable date. Just like such a mobile phone message, "Birds fall in love, ants live together, butterflies divorce, and caterpillars remarry. What are you waiting for? " Flowers are blooming, trees are blooming, and running water rushes to the distance with a more cheerful melody. The peasant brothers have sown hope for the next year.
In spring, there is no audience. In spring, deep sleep is death.
Sitting by the window, I will sing the songs in my heart. A man who is about to turn 30 will quietly write a poem about spring.
The first sound of frogs in spring
bright red
The first month has not yet ended, and the new semester has begun again. Life is always like this. I have lived in this isolated rural middle school student for nearly seven years, and I have never worked hard with inferiority. Night always calms my mind. I lean on the bed and recite English words to prepare for a new beginning. Suddenly, I heard frogs barking in the field outside the window, hitting my heart. This is a weak voice that can shake my heart more than rock and roll, which makes me daydream.
It is spring again! Although it was still cold and the fields were still sleeping, the frog woke up. Do they feel lonely? A winter silence, a barren field, I am more and more lonely, but still confident and persistent, just like these frogs. On such a quiet night, the night lights up our dreams. Sometimes, it is not the light that illuminates everything, but the night that illuminates everything. It is the arrival of the night that allows us to see the infinite starry sky and lock us in a limited space during the day. The first frog in spring leads my love to rise. I've seen life in the world. I heard the truth of life. The fragile frog ignited their persistent belief.
In the dark, the frog is chirping vaguely, which is similar to my situation in this village: a desk lamp lights up alone in the boundless darkness.
A wonderful world and a person's dream. On a busy day, the first frog croaked in spring.