"Landscape Fun"
(Impressions of Luoshan)
Text: Zhou Zheng
(i)
There is LuoShan in the distance, lush and lush, and the momentum is gushing.
Walking into Luoshan Mountain, the turquoise blue sky is like a thin brocade. The soft white mist wafts up the fragrance of the mountains; the rivers under the feet are either gurgling or dry, and the flowing water is clear. The village in the distance, under the tall wind turbine, is good from ancient times to the modern, so warm, natural is the emerald green mountain forest...
(I wanted to write down the white white snow of the language on the paper, and let it slowly squirm in the mountains of the heart.) ）
Walking into Luo Shan, bolting my widow, a ticket blocked my uncrowned king.
Luoshan does not receive the elderly, let alone writers and journalists, and there is no free ticket here....
The strings of alpine flowing water reproduce their melody in the warmth and gentleness of the red sun and blue moon.
(In the distance on the other side of Luoshan, hanging a waterfall, a girl in a red dress sings the song brewed in this yellow land in the dimly lit wine bar.) ）
Walking into Luoshan, it is as if you have entered the era of the combination of backwardness and progress, and the barbarism and vulgarity are leisurely and self-satisfied.
(ii)
Kowloon once walked under this dark green, vigorous.
The Jade Emperor once visited from under this vigorous, dark green.
I stepped on the footsteps of the Jade Emperor and the Dragon King, along the strange ancient ghost, into the ethereal and profound history.
From the hollow in the heart of the chestnut tree and the wrinkles of the rocks, I heard the sound of the sword of the Dragon King of the Mountain God, the ruts of the Jade Emperor You Luo Mountain, the brushing and rain of the Nine Dragon Gathering, and the short and long songs of poets of all generations...
The wind of time, blowing from ancient times to today, blows away the illusion of white clouds, blows away the martial power of the Dragon King, and blows away the song of the poet; only what cannot be blown is the smoke that swirls between the branches of the chestnut tree, the sunlight that sways on the green waves of the ink sea, and the green soul that never dies.
I clapped my hands and sang with the quaint charm - singing about the brevity of life, but also singing about the eternity of life.
(iii)
A winding stone path that winds between cliffs. Many unforgettable stories, cast into golden Shi Feng stands on the winding bends; a waterfall, soaring waves of smoke, carved luoshan's magnificent years.
How many male souls are ruthlessly imprisoned by the winding of this road.
How many flames of life have been extinguished in the extension of this path.
The flag raised from the sea of blood, at the end of this road, the tall and majestic mountain, thundered against the storms of external humiliation. Today, the history of blood soaking is gradually shattered by the mutated footsteps of the years. A mountain king wearing only various masks hijacked the glory extended by this winding road, and unscrupulously performed dirt and ugliness in the chair of the boss of power.
In the depths of the camera lens, I saw countless heroic spirits, standing on top of Shi Feng, tearing apart the wolf's delusions and fantasies one by one.
Chant "The big knife cuts the devil's head!" ”
On that day, the big golden vein, the anti-Japanese beacon burned!
One point number Zhou Zheng literature column