Rainy days are the best time to read ancient poems.
Open a pond half an acre square, and draw a curtain made of rain, which will be filled with a classical temperament. You don't need the leisure and comfort of shady benches, but you don't want the hustle and bustle of birds and flowers. Let the drizzle moisten your thirsty heart. Stay away from the noise of the world, get rid of the word "tired", get into your own three pools and reflect the moon alone, and let your tired eyes rest between the lines of ancient poetry.
So there are acacia tears, dribs and drabs, wet plantains; Homesickness, foggy, caged in buildings; There is a feeling of silk and bamboo, dripping ideas and sprinkling them on the postal route;
So there are guest houses, willow colors, bridges and frogs; There are apricot blossom village, wine flag and breeze, evening rain and west window candle; There are water towns, mountains, mountains, heavenly streets, emperors, wild paths, dark clouds, river boats and open flames; There are piccolo of Mu Tong, bamboo hat of fisherman, jade of Qian Shan, and platform of Southern Dynasties. Peony with spring tears, roses with morning branches, carp on the beach at night, and weeping willows;
So the old Du Yechun sang, and the young Du Qingming asked the way; Lu Fangweng lies listening to midnight, and monk Zhang Zhinan crosses Qiaodong; Easy-to-live laymen sigh blue, fat, red and thin, and the owner of Chengzhai rewards lotus hearts with pearls; Zhang doesn't have to go boating and fishing, and Su Dongpo compiles the West Lake;
Therefore, there are always too many such leading talents with lists, such as Yan Xiexiang, in a gradually humid atmosphere. ...
Oh, reading ancient poems on rainy days is refreshing and puzzling; Read easily and read heavily; Read happily and read sadly. Reading ancient poems on rainy days, I read myself as a poem in the rain, flowing in the countryside where the grass is far away and there is no color. ...
Take a walk at dusk
There is always endless love dusk, and there is always endless karma connected with the village road.
Still familiar, still fresh.
Green and Huang co-starred in the TV series "Yuan Ye", the first, middle and last three episodes of which are spring, summer and autumn respectively. Wooden plows, sickles, hoes, and oxen were montaged into tractors, seeders, and harvesters, but now they are cut and pasted into sketches, and people can't help but pay attention to them. Sunset drank the farmer's wine, blushed and drunk, looked back affectionately, and reluctantly cast an oblique figure. Low eaves, curling smoke, the sentences of classical pastoral poetry are always classical; In the stained glass of modern residential buildings, it embodies a beautiful, elegant and elegant artistic conception; The evening breeze remains the same, but the fragrance of food adds a layer of richness and richness; In the distance, it seems that there is a long rhythm of mother calling back her son, and Zhu Ziqing's synaesthesia is filled with the breath of sunset. Audio and TV continue to be lively and prosperous during the day; Singing and laughing, rendering the warm days of thousands of families; In the fading sky, there are stars flashing for the second time. Market? Street lamp? No, no, the twilight is so beautiful that even Guo Moruo's metaphor is no longer fashionable-today's countryside has also enjoyed the patent of the old city.
Therefore, without the guidance of philosophers, rambling people like us will write down triumphant words irregularly at a flat and even pace, or publish them intermittently or magnificently in the evening paper of Nature. ...