I love spring and its vitality, but I love Han Yu's "the light rain in the sky is crisp as crisp, but the grass color is not near"; I love summer, but I love the summer scenery with infinite lotus leaves and different colors. "I love autumn, I love its fruit, but I love Liu Yuxi's optimism that autumn has been sad and lonely since ancient times, and I say autumn is not as good as spring"; I like winter, but I prefer to describe it vividly, just like the strong wind in spring, which comes at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees. Actually, I like reading poetry.
Reading poetry, I love reading immortal Tang poems. Read "I can finally send my messenger, the wild goose, back to Luoyang." I feel a homesickness that keeps cutting; Read "the country is still broken, and the vegetation will be green in spring." I seem to see a fragmented Li Tang dynasty, as if I heard Du Fu's deep sigh and infinite emotion; Read "A strong woman in business doesn't know how to hate her country, but still sings backyard flowers across the river". I felt the fascination of the dignitaries in the late Tang Dynasty and the author's deep sorrow for state affairs.
Reading poetry, I love reading that song poem, loving its vivid "red apricot branches full of spring" and loving it "driving a long car to break the lack of Helan Mountain." Love it is "helpless, flowers fall, deja vu Yan Hui." Euphemism.
Reading poetry, I love reading that Yuanqu, the beauty of it "a little Fei Ying, green mountains and green waters, white grass, red leaves and yellow flowers", and the lingering lovesickness of it "when the sun sets, the horizon is heartbroken".
When I read poetry, I never "cherish the past and cherish the present". I like the delicate style and sincere feelings in Tagore's Golden Flower. I love grandma Bing Xin's vivid poems; I like the beautiful articles written by Guo Moruo …
Maybe my style is too naive to write their beauty; Maybe my thinking is not mature enough, I can only read their surface; Maybe my idea is too naive to feel their affection. However, I will keep reading and thinking, and be a lifelong companion with it, because I love reading poetry.