Poetry describing the Yellow River:
If you don’t see it, the water of the Yellow River will come up from the sky and rush to the sea never to return. Traveling across the East China Sea, thousands of miles are written into my mind. "Li Bai's "Gift to Pei Shishi"
Far above the Yellow River, among the white clouds, there is an isolated city called Wanren Mountain. "Liangzhou Ci" by Wang Zhihuan
The solitary smoke is straight in the desert, and the sun is setting over the long river. Wang Wei's "Envoy to the Fortress"
The sun is shining over the mountains, and the Yellow River flows into the sea. Wang Zhihuan's "Climbing the Stork Tower"
I want to cross the Yellow River and the Fortress, but I am about to climb Taihang, which is covered with snow. Mountain Li Bai's "Traveling is Difficult"
The Yellow River has nine bends and thousands of miles of sand, and the waves and winds blow from the end of the world. Liu Yuxi Tang's "Lang Taosha"
Poems about describing the Yangtze River
< p>The great river goes eastward, and the waves are gone, and there are romantic figures throughout the ages. "Reminiscent of Nujiao Chibi Nostalgic" Su ShiThe stars hang down on the plains and the fields are vast, and the moon surges and the rivers flow. Du Fu's "Expressing Feelings on a Night Journey"
The endless falling trees rustle under the sky, and the endless Yangtze River rolls in. Du Fu's "Climbing High"< /p>
The shadow of the lonely sail is gone in the blue sky, but the Yangtze River is seen flowing in the sky. Li Bai's "Send Meng Haoran to Guangling"
Tianmen interrupts the opening of the Chu River, and the clear water flows eastward here. Li Bai's "Looking at Tianmen Mountain"< /p>
The mountains follow the plains, and the rivers flow into the great rivers (Li Bai's "Farewell at Crossing Jingmen"
Poetry on the Yellow River
When I climbed up to the Shuimen Tower, I saw my deceased friend Zhang Zhenqi writing a poem about the Yellow River , I was inspired by it
Cui Shu
My friend Southeast Mei heard about people who climbed up to this building and left their books on the wall.
Yan Zi is really hiding, thank you for your long journey. The breeze is the first time, and the worries are gone.
Time and writing are ancient, and the mountains and rivers are lonely. The Yellow River can be seen in the sky.
The year of wandering is about to end, and the desolation is already in autumn. The sky is too high to ask, so I cry and go boating.
The river flows quickly. Turbidity.
It is difficult to make a mountain with water.
The empty court is the old one. Wood.
There are no traces of people.
There are still foxes and rabbits on the river. Old.
How can this water be clear?
The Yellow River sinks
Start from an unknown small mound on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau.
Lengthened
The yellowed water
deepened the rough stone tools of our ancestors
and the sobs of Yanhuang
Buried
Combined into a cry to expand the foreign land of life
Yellow carpet
Along the Bohai Bay
Extending to the Dragon Palace
< p>One dayThe dragon from the East China Sea will come
bringing the beautiful dragon girl
to the carpet
Under the Moon
p>
Listen to the majestic "The Ballad of the Boatman"
***Drink a glass of cool moonlight
Wine wine
With yellow skin and black hair
Climbing the River
Poetry for Crossing the Yellow River
The river is fast and turbid.
It is difficult to be a cypress.
There are old trees in the empty courtyard.
There are no traces of people.
Messages on the river. Old. How can this water be clear?
The waves wash over the sand
The Yellow River has thousands of miles of sand,
The waves wash over it and the wind blows from the end of the world. p>Now we go straight to the Milky Way,
to the home of the Morning Glory and the Weaver Girl.
Poetry on the Yellow River
I climbed to the Shuimen Tower and saw my late friend Zhang Zhenqi writing a poem about the Yellow River. I was inspired by it
Cui Shu
My friend Southeast Meimei once heard that people had climbed up to this building and passed away along the river, leaving their books on the wall.
Yan Zi likes to live in seclusion, thank you for your time in traveling far away. The breeze sings its praises at the beginning, and worries disappear again in the free days.
Time and writing are ancient, and the mountains and rivers are secluded. Already alone, the common people can only see the Yellow River.
The year of wandering is getting late, and the sad things are already autumn. The sky is too high to ask, so I cover up my tears and go boating.