What are some of your favorite ancient poems?

The green poplar smoke is light and cold, and the red apricot branches are in spring. Song Qi's "Jade Mansion Spring" is green on one side, red on the other, and the light cold has not subsided, and he can't wait, like a naughty and delicate girl frolicking. Such a spring, who does not like.

The drizzle and wet clothes are invisible, and the idle flowers are silent when they fall to the ground. From Liu Changqing's "Don't Yan Shiyuan" to see, not see, listen, silent. Drizzle wet clothes, idle flowers on the ground.

When I read such a sentence, my heart is soft and comfortable, and I will smile. The apricot blossom rain that is wet on the clothes, the willow wind that blows the face, the hearts of the poets, and we all figure it out.

The cigarette is sold at sunrise and no one is seen, and the landscape is green. Liu Zongyuan's "The Fisherman" smokes at sunrise, the mountains and rivers are green, the fishing boats are moving from the shore, and there is a sound of oars in the space. I don't see the contrast between people and the green, an ethereal.

The sentences are wonderfully combined, and there is no indescribable hidden Zen flavor.

Suddenly, like a night of spring breeze, thousands of trees and pear blossoms bloom. I often fantasize about how beautiful such a view is. The winter scene is described as a spring scene, and it is so seamless, so surprising, and there is only such a sentence. ‍‍

Ancient poems are brilliant and dazzling in the vast history of literature, and they are an important part of Chinese civilization. In particular, Tang and Song poems can be called the two most dazzling pearls in the history of literature. I like it:

The streamer is easy to throw people, red cherries, green plantains. The overlapping sentences of four characters, the strong contrast of colors, highlighting the overlap of the picture, the overlap of the mood, the writing is smart and fluent, and the three sentences rhyme together, like muttering to yourself. Spring is as deep as the sea, and sorrow is as deep as the sea. ‍‍

The shadow is sparse and the water is shallow, and the dark fragrance floats in the dusk of the moon. Sparse shadows, dark incense, real scenes and fictional writing, unique techniques. The clear and shallow water, the dusk moon, come together to cheer, set off the charm of plum blossoms.

Xiangshan * Two Songs".

Original] The clouds descend on the mountains and the drunken haze.

Hazy red leaves weaving boat kiss mountain.

Rows of trees weeping autumn fruits full of mountains.

The middle mountains are stacked on top of each other.

The wind is in the mountains, and the birds are singing and holding the trees.

Vine across the mountain with the leader to climb the red.

The top of the purple mountain is full of colors.

Friends Xiangshan stayed. Singing.

Li Gongjue responded to the Xiangshan Ridge in Beijing. Friends invite you to visit Xiangshan. Painted on October 11, 2018 at *Xiangshan Thatched House*>

Xiangshan uses me eight mountains".

Original] There are eight lines in one poem.

Mountains The mountains do not obey the heavens.

The Jade Emperor summoned me to go.

I mean Xiangshan Hongying.

The Jade Emperor pushed the window and looked down.

Look at the red leaves of Xiangshan.

Tian Li Gongjue Fu "Xiangshan" in one go, eight sentences and sentences have mountains and thousands of poems have no such examples

Looking for and seeking, cold and lonely, miserable and miserable.

Remembering the plum down to Xizhou, folding the plum to send the north of the river. The single shirt is apricot red, and the double sideburns are young color. The first two sentences are the contrast of time and space, and the last two sentences are the strong contrast of colors.

I see that the green mountains are more charming, and I expect the green mountains to see me as the bright moon and pine trees, and the clear spring stone is upstream. The bamboo noise returns to the raccoon girl, and the lotus moves the fishing boat The beauty is like a flower across the clouds, there is a high sky above the green and underworld, and there are waves of water below. The mountain is long, the soul is far away, and the dream soul is not difficult to pass the mountain.

Sauvignon Blanc, heart-wrenching.

I tried the curtain people, but the begonias were still the same. Did you know? Did you know? It should be green, fat, red and thin. Here, the technique of synesthesia appears, green, fat, red and thin, how amazing it is.

In the rotten walls and green bamboo, the small courtyard is silent. In the depths of elm old age, several birds think of spring.

At night, I suddenly returned to my hometown, and I was dressing up in the small window. There are no words for each other, only a thousand tears.

Looking up to the sky and slamming the door, how can my generation be a Penghao person.

Life is also confused, death is also confused, stunners are confusing and people can't forget, people are not wood and stone, it is better not to meet the city.

Suddenly, the man was there, and the lights were dim.

If life is only as first seen, what is the autumn wind sad painting fan, waiting for idle changes but the old people's hearts, but the old people's hearts are changeable, Lishan language is half a night, tears and rain and rain will not complain in the end, how to be like Bo Xingjin Yilang, than the wings and branches of the day's wishes.

Lin Hua thanked the spring flowers, too sluggish, helpless to come to the cold rain and late wind; Rouge tears, stay drunk, when is it heavy? Life is a constant hatred of water Changdong.

On behalf of the pulsatilla, the peach and plum blossoms in the east of Luoyang City, flying around and falling to whom's house. Luoyang's daughter cherishes the color, and sighs when she sees the falling flowers.

There are no tombs in the mountains, the rivers are exhausted, the thunder and earthquakes in winter, the rain and snow in summer, the heaven and the earth are combined, and you dare to be with you!

On the Evil".

When I came to the red, I tried to be a couple with the mandarin ducks. When the sculls came, some people looked like old curved peach roots and peach leaves. In the old days, the moonlight counted how many times to shine on me, playing the flute on the plum side? Gradually blow away the branches of the incense. Beautiful poetry must have Jiang Kui.

The west wind blows the old Dongting waves, and Xiangjun has a lot of white hair overnight.

When drunk, I don't know that the sky is in the water, and the boat is full of dreams and the galaxy.

Raise a glass to invite Mingyue, and the shadow becomes a trio.

Now I know the taste of sorrow, I want to talk and rest, I want to talk and rest, but the weather is cool and autumn.

Turn into spring mud and twist into dust, only the fragrance is the same.

There is no evidence for the news of the wild goose, and it is difficult to return to the dream.

Likes: Peach blossom red, plum blossom white, yellow flower yellow. The warblers are crying, the swallows are dancing, and the butterflies are busy. Like peach blossom, plum blossom. Deep red and light white, one by one, new makeup.

Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow.

Is Ji Zi safe? He returned, and everything in his life was to look back! Who comforts the road slowly, the mother's hometown is poor and the children are young. I can't remember, once upon a time a glass of wine ......

Flying egrets in desert paddy fields, yellow orioles in the shade of summer wood. Wang wei.

I like Luo Bing Wang's "Song of the Goose and the Silver Eyes" the most.

"Song of the Goose" is probably the first poetry I came into contact with. It's not for anything else, it's the kind of sour that reads aloud and catchy, making people shake their heads.

"Song of the Goose" was a beautiful song in my eyes as a child at that time. It removed my chaos and opened my mind. So much so that my love for liberal arts and literature in the future also came from it.

You listen! Goose, goose, goose, song to the sky, white hair floating green water, anthurium plucking clear waves.

Knowing that now, I still think that Luo Bing Wang's "Song of the Goose" is the most beautiful poem. Before, I didn't understand its charm, but it was beautiful enough to read, but now, when I read "Song of the Goose" again, what comes to mind is a painting, a flock of white geese frolicking in the crystal clear blue waves, sometimes singing with their necks, sometimes pecking at each other's feathers, sometimes stretching their slender necks into the water, sometimes dozing off on the water......

What a beautiful memory, but why in childhood? Maybe I was the one I wanted at that time, but as I grew up, I became like this.