Why did Nalan Xingde write Picking Mulberries .

Think about it, what do you care about, go home and wash and sleep.

The thatched eaves are low, and the grass is green on the stream. Wu Yin is good in drunk, who is white-haired?

The eldest child hoes the beans in the east of the river, and the good pie is weaving a chicken coop, and the favorite child is dead, and the head of the stream is lying on the lotus canopy.

Poetic: The thatched eaves of the thatched hut are low and small, and the brook is full of sensitive socks that destroy the green grass. The Wu dialect with drunken flavor sounds gentle and beautiful, whose family is the old man with white hair?

The eldest son was hoeing grass in the bean field on the east side of the stream, and the second son was busy weaving chicken coops. The most beloved is the youngest son, who is lying on the grass at the head of the stream, peeling the freshly plucked lotus flowers.

Expansion: This poem depicts the environment and life of a rural family of five, and the different faces and moods of the family are vividly described by the poet and the young with a strong sense of life, showing the lyricist's love for the peaceful and quiet life in the countryside.

Nalan Dictionary Volume II.

Picking mulberry Tongxia has been flying for a long time, who is the person. Who is the person, Yu Qingqing sleeps tonight.

The incense pin was extinguished by the cold residual lamp, and the autumn was silent. Count the autumn quietly, and miss the heart to the second string.

Who turned the bleak song of Yuefu? The wind is also sluggish, the rain is also sluggish, and the lights are thin and the lights are scattered overnight.

I don't know what is lingering, I am bored when I wake up, I am bored when I am drunk, and I have never been to Xie Qiao in my dreams.

and Yan Xiao hugged the freak frequently, and the frost was empty. The oblique man is hazy, and the cold felt curtain is not red.

The incense bonnet was idle and looked back at the west wind. Counting the remnant clocks, a lantern is like a dream.

And the cold incense lingers all over the dream of the Red Bridge, and the dream of the city. The peach blossoms on the moon, the rain breaks the spring cold swallow's house.

Who can drum after saying goodbye, and the intestines will be broken. Secretly damaged Shaohua, a wisp of tea smoke through the blue yarn.

Wing Chun rain again. The tender smoke is dyed with goose willows, the same wind silk. It seems to be neat, and it is only in the spring cold that it is thin.

Cool invasion of Xiaomeng is light and greasy, about slightly red and fat. Do not hesitate to take the famous incense to make lichen.

It's not about the habit of loving light appearance, and the cold place is better. Don't have roots and shoots, not the rich flowers of the world.

Who can regret Xie Niang's farewell, wandering the world. The cold moon is sad, and the west wind is thousands of miles away.

Peach blossom is ashamed to die ruthlessly, grateful to the east wind. Blowing off the delicate red, flying into the window with chagrin.

Who pities the hard work of Dongyang and is thin, but also for the spring. Not as good as Hibiscus, a cold place.

I turned the lamp and the book was full of red notes, and I was still bored. The jade leaks all the way, and the cold flowers in the dream are separated by the jade flute.

A few poles to repair the bamboo three more rain, the leaves and leaves are Xiaoxiao. Pay the autumn tide, don't mistake the double fish to Xie Bridge.

It is also cool and dewy, and the strings are moist, and the dark drops are flowery. Who shakes the curtain shadow, and the willow on the wind silk.

The dancing bird mirror box is frequently opened, and the sandalwood powder is lazy. Towards the tide of tears, last night Xiangshu dreamed far away.

The soil flowers have been dyed with Xiang'e Dai, and the lead tears are difficult to eliminate. Qingyun who knocks, not the rhino spine is the phoenix.

It should only be accompanied by Duanxi purple and cut the autumn tide. The parrot stole the teaching, and Fang Xiang saw the jade flute in front of him.

I also thanked the remnants of the family courtyard and the Yansu carved sorghum. The monthly silver wall, don't distinguish the flowers that distinguish the fragrance?

This situation has become a self-contained memory, and there are scattered mandarin ducks. The rain is slightly cool, and I dreamed of it eleven years ago.

And now I said that I was wrong at the time, and my heart was miserable. Red tears are secretly drooping, and his eyes are full of spring breeze.

Knowing this, there was no plan later, and he forced the happy period. As if it were a farewell, the plough blossoms and the moon were west.

And the bright moon should laugh at me, laugh at me now, lonely and sad, lonely and alone.

Recently, I'm afraid to talk about current events, and I'm all over the place. The moon is shallow and the light is deep, where to find the clouds in the dream?

Picking mulberry Tongxia has been flying for a long time, who is the person. Who is the person, Yu Qingqing sleeps tonight.

The incense pin was extinguished by the cold residual lamp, and the autumn was silent. Count the autumn quietly, and miss the heart to the second string.

Picking mulberries Xie family courtyard is more erect, and Yansu carves sorghum. The monthly silver wall, don't distinguish the flowers that distinguish the fragrance?

This situation has become a self-contained memory, and there are scattered mandarin ducks. The rain is slightly cool, and I dreamed of it eleven years ago.

Picking mulberry and peach blossoms is ashamed to die ruthlessly, grateful to the east wind. Blowing off the delicate red, flying into the window with chagrin.

Who pities the hard work of Dongyang and is thin, but also for the spring. Not as good as Hibiscus, a cold place.

Picking mulberries can be lonely Fangfei Festival, and want to talk about life. It's been three watches in the night. A sad song with tears and zero tears.

It is necessary to know that the autumn leaves and spring flowers are promoted, and the temples are starry. When you have to pour wine, don't ask the name of Long Live Qianqiu.

Picking mulberries is not a fetish for light appearance, and the cold place is better. Don't have roots and shoots, not the rich flowers of the world.

Who can regret Xie Niang's farewell, wandering the world. The cold moon is sad, and the west wind is thousands of miles away.

Picking mulberries Xie family courtyard is more erect, and Yansu carves sorghum. The monthly silver wall, don't distinguish the flowers that distinguish the fragrance?

This situation has become a self-contained memory, and there are scattered mandarin ducks. The rain is slightly cool, and I dreamed of it eleven years ago.

Mulberry picking for nine days.

Who remembers each other in late autumn, Konoha Xiaoxiao. The countryside is a long way. Liuqu Pingshan and Mengyao.

When it is good, it is a pity to say goodbye to the scenery, not to ascend. I only feel that my soul is gone. When the southern goose returned, it was even more lonely.

This, (o).

Nalan's words seem to be missing a woman.