The heavens and the earth are exquisite, the plain white flying, and the Tianhan Long Street under the precipitation of five years of precipitation has arrived with winter. Greeting the wind, the dream of the last season about the shadow of Aoba is far away at this moment, just like the rivers and lakes; holding the half-cheng winter sun, the temperature of the fingertips warms the ice and snow into white mist, rising into poetry.
The kings came from all directions and shared this scene on the long street. This is not only the 3.8-kilometer quaint and frightening, crane fluttering, lupine scarf, this is The classic road for Zhuge Liang to spread Han culture; this is not just a world where the four seasons rotate, the sound of camel bells, hooves trampling, this is Zhang Qian's civilization bridge that hooked the Silk Road; this is not just the ecological civilization that leads the way, singing and dancing, and paying tribute to the four sides, which is the world's mighty step that has never been extinguished in the prosperous era of the Han Dynasty. The spirited old man takes the stone road of the Long Street as the paper, takes the water of the Long River as the ink, and enjoys the happiness brought by calligraphy with ease, one by one, it is a long scroll of the world, writing the ancient rhyme of the Han style; one row after another, it is the solemnity of culture, showing the background of Han history.
Stepping on the snow, although the long street in winter is no longer covered with moss, his posture of wearing the garden tree reveals fanghua. The camphor breathes in the humid air, it is the garden, there is no emotion; the apricot plum snuggles under the shadow of the camphor tree, that is the traceability, the old man comes; the reeds ripple beside the waterfront boardwalk, that is the water side, the dew is frost. There is no need to read the spring willows, the snowflakes have fallen first; there is no need to love the summer green pine leaves, the cold Ying is more relaxed for the dark green; there is no need to remember the autumn Han osmanthus flowers, broken jade has been accompanied by cold branches condensed ice; there is no need to sigh the winter green Qing pillow wind frost, green bamboo becomes more green branches. Heavy pedestrians catch light and shadow under the branches of the forest flowers, Tai Chi lovers leisurely enjoy themselves in the ancient Yi Gallery, teenagers run and live in the sports field, and dancers flutter in the Sheung Shui Du Square.
Through the garden path, chisel a side of the pool; the water is like time, listening to the still flow of the years. Zhu Ge reflected on the water, the curved bridge was soaked with mist, and the koi carp roamed in the pond, they connected the feelings and memories of history, flowing in our hearts, walking through, not stirring up dust. The winter water is mottled into a pool of broken glow under the warm sun, swaying with clear dreams, carrying the ghost, dotting dyeing, and it has passed for a hundred years. Those powdery sand, salty like sugar, bring out the taste of winter and outline the intoxicating ripples. Perhaps, being a fish on a long street and wandering calmly under the fallen leaves is also extremely happy.
Having seen colorful paintings, touched the satin embroidered brocade, and tasted the light brown and drunken wine, it is better to look down on the garden in front of the Yao steps, look up at the Tianhan Tower, gaze at the cornices, and look at the frost on the tiles. The high-rise loft decorated with jade powder stands tall in the cold, thin but amorous, heroic and windy, that is the dust show bell of the winter condensation and the spring return to the earth, that is the exquisite heaven and earth and the solemn architecture of the precious scroll, that is the intersection of the ancient and the near and the beautiful.
Wanton writing, the book is not a full scene, a little bit of fun; thick ink, painting can not be a thousand beautiful, ten thousand styles. Stepping through the southern water and north mountains and the western ridge, I have seen the spring and summer winds and mountains and waters, not as good as the long street, people love not only his spring birds and flowers, but also love him in the summer, such as fireworks, love him in autumn, and love him at this time frost and snow full of shoulders, go to the white head together. (Zhang Jingyi)