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 my shadow to me, 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.
Indulge in the world of poetry writing 2 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. " Now, where did the poet 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.
Indulge in the world of poetry composition 3. Make a cup of black tea and read the essence of the Millennium. Everything is in the sun, and I am intoxicated with poetry. ...
A boat was floating in the spring of a lake, and a man staggered onto the boat. The boatman propped up the paddle, and the clear water separated from the bow and collided at the stern, making a sound like the sound of bamboo. Suddenly, among the peacocks and willows on the shore, several villagers flashed out, clapping their hands and singing local folk songs. The songs floated in the valleys and hit the hearts of men on board. I stood up with tears in my eyes and said, "Peach Blossom Pond is deeper than thousands of feet, not as good as Wang Lun."
Farewell, a dream for a thousand years; East, west, north and south, lack of a lake. ...
In the spring of March, the tender green willow buds are also covered with a faint goose yellow. A group of chirping elves flew in from the south. They suddenly flew into people's yards and used branches to make nests. Black scissors flew in the air, combing their feathers with their mouths from time to time and splashing mud flowers. People rolled up the curtains of the house and greeted these elves happily, hoping that they could stay here for a while and spend their old age with them.
Walking by the lake of West Lake, you can see green mountains and green waters from far and near, and look at dark ink paintings. The whole West Lake is like a smiling girl with a black veil. There are rough and heroic thick ink renderings and understated detailed sketches, which are as ethereal as fairyland on earth! With a stroke of a pen, he left "it is always necessary to make the West Lake more beautiful than the West Lake" and disappeared into the blue waves. ...
The sunset is like blood, and the west wind is hunting, leaving only a touch of deep red in the distant horizon. A Tsing Yi man tripped over a thin horse on the path. The withered vines with broken roots on the old trees are swaying like eating goods. His heart tightened and he quickened his pace. Several women were washing clothes by the stream and beating stones with wooden sticks. They laughed loudly and had a good time. Happiness is theirs, but I have no thin horse. He thought like this and left.
In the cold winter, the north wind blows hard, and it seems that the air is frozen into frost. Everything is curled up together. Suddenly, a wisp of fragrance melted the frost. Looking for the fragrance, it is three or five branches of red plum around the eyes, welcoming the cold baptism, proudly emitting a bright red breath, adding a little warmth and enthusiasm to the pale and cold winter.
In the world of poetry, I experienced the heyday of Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing Dynasties, and had a good chat with literati. Fall in love, get drunk, get drunk ...
Indulge in the world of poetry writing 4. Take a boat and relive the long river of history. What attracts me most is still ancient poetry.
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The first time I recited poetry, I started with the simple and easy-to-understand "Goose Goose, Goose Goose, Quxiang Xiang Tiange". Since then, I have entered the world of poetry.
Riding alone, drifting with the tide. Ahead, a few white swans, their red feet splashing in the water, sometimes searching in the river, sometimes singing in the sky. A child stood on the river bank, staring blankly at the beautiful swan, as if muttering something.
Continue to float in the river, on the big bluestone beside the river, a disheveled and childlike child, with a fishing rod in his hand, frowned and stared at the water, motionless as a stone statue. "Hey, that kid over there …" Suddenly a passerby asked for directions in the distance. He waved behind him without looking back, still staring at the river for fear of scaring the fish away.
The river flows eastward, and I look at the misty green hills on both sides. Isn't that Tianmen Mountain? I seem to see that gray figure, looking at the rolling Yangtze River, looking at my boat, chanting: "Tianmen breaks the Chu River, and Higashi Shimizu flows here. The green hills on both sides of the strait are opposite, and the sails are alone. "
His mood must be very complicated at the moment. I sighed and continued to drift with the flow. Before I knew it, I was covered by the sunset.
I walked ashore on the ancient road, and the sound of "da da" came from the quiet and deserted ancient road. A middle-aged uncle was riding by and looking around. His figure became smaller and smaller until he disappeared from my sight. Missing is like wine, you get drunk when you drink it. When you are drunk, you read this sad sunset with all your enthusiasm. He was drunk, and so was the sunset. I unconsciously chanted, "When the sun sets, heartbroken people are at the end of the world."
Passing an inn, everyone was already asleep, but only one person could not sleep. The light of his room suddenly hit me through the windowsill, and the figure by the window flickered. I saw him write a line "Who asked about the hotel?" The cold lamp is amiable. "
"Fight for the ferry, fight for the ferry, and start the gull heron pool." Through the ocean of poetry, I saw colorful Lin Baili. I am fascinated by the world and don't want to leave.
Indulge in the world of poetry creation. 5 Always remember the sunset in Xiting, and I don't know the way home when I am intoxicated, so Li Yian intones. 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 ...