Explore the history and cultural heritage of Jiangnan Xiayu
Recall the summer rain in Jiangnan
China Yacha Culture Media Public Welfare Platform News: The years are in a hurry, the breeze is accustomed, thinking of Jiangnan, I think of the leisurely summer drizzle, always like to let the lonely heart get a trace of comfort when it rains, want to throw all the loneliness in the rain, listen to the sound of the dripping rain outside the window, as if stepping into a pleasant new situation, the summer rain in Jiangnan is fine, soft summer poetry, a burst of coolness stirred, rain splashes, wet a touch of red flowers, flowers bloom on the path, small bridges and flowing water, courtyard entangled leaves, dark alleys, The fragrance of flowers is all over the city, the mulberry trees in front of you are long and dense, stretching from the street to the mountains, purple mulberry fruits hang under the mulberry branches, mulberry fruits are wrapped with raindrops, purple and clear, the bead curtain is shining, the drizzle exudes tempting desire, stretch out the hand out of the balcony, catch a few drops of falling raindrops, crystal clear and cold and cold, people are not happy, the rain kisses the trees, kisses the earth, steps into the shallow stream, converges into a tide, pouring into the embrace of the sea.
Recalling the summer rain in Jiangnan, tonight I listened carefully, the sound of rain made me not lonely, the rain fell and shattered a place of love, listening to the rain is not only a state of mind, but also a release of the heart, so that the heart is no longer impetuous and restless wandering in the dream, if the rain dyes the green plum yellow, then it is the yellow plum rain, but this rain also dyes Jiangnan green, green like a jade with colorful blocks, the words named by the good deeds are finally exhausted, Gu left and right said him, lotus blossoms, hibiscus blossoms, oleander blossoms, pomegranate blossoms, sunflower blossoms, all the flowers have bloomed, no matter how many flowers bloom, in fact, it is God's colorful dye bottle that was knocked over by angels and splashed on the green wet canvas, and the composition is still the landscape of Jiangnan, only the color is wild and uninhibited, uninhibited to unscrupulous, the rain does not stop, the pool overflows the river embankment, the stone bridge is dyed green, the metasequoia and bamboo forest are like quiet silhouettes, the egret is pacing in the mirror-like rice field, and a young frog begins to converge its song.
Recalling the summer rain in Jiangnan, my forehead was dyed with the light frost of last autumn, but I still couldn't be a fisherman with yellow and green hats, I sat on the water's edge, in fact, I told a story about the rock with the young Puwei, more than two thousand years ago, the rain was still falling, like lovesickness like memories, like a faint lamentation, weaving a fine net, the rain gently fell, gently dyed all the stories in Jiangnan, dyed with moss indigo, dark green and green color, you in a long skirt, you with a red umbrella, but you have known that it has become a frozen landscape, in this rainy season in Jiangnan, A person is not lonely, lonely is you thinking about a person, the rainy season in Jiangnan has come, and I am in the distance, the river rises to the edge of the bamboo forest, migratory birds fly back to the green tree peaks, peach orchards are full of fruit and greenery, and I am far away. The yellow flowers have been exhausted, the camphor is so luxuriant, the butterflies quietly recall the first fragrance of the flowers, and I am in the distance, the snails stop at the blades of grass, the moss goes to the cornice, the humid wind and the drifting sun, the sunny time, and I am in the distance.
Explore the history and cultural heritage of the summer rain in Jiangnan, recall the summer rain in Jiangnan, whose heart, drop by drop, the pond full of years, no one to salvage, those amorous melancholy, and I am in the distance, ripples have long been engraved on the forehead, the sideburns have been stained with white frost, I buried all the words deep under a tree, waiting for the next rainy season to come again, acacia will grow the red fire of the grenade and the flight of the floc, has always been deep, but the acacia is long, but the reason is shallow, the pen is wounded, another rainy season in Jiangnan is coming, and I am still far away, A thousand years of loneliness, turned into mottled antiquity on the carved eaves, all kinds of longing, only a trace of moss, as clear as emerald in the drizzle of yellow plums.
The window of the hundred flowers is still there, in the clear glow of the moonlight, the gentleness and melodious of the guqin no longer stays, the birdcage with purple bamboo inlaid with screws, still telling the spring grievances and autumn sorrows that have gone away, the paper umbrella of the book basket, the washed silk towel, looking up at a delicate embroidery building, the drizzle of silk bamboo, the fragrance of jasmine, the road to the test of Jiangnan Road, whether love will wait for an unknown achievement, wisteria curvature, flowers like a waterfall. The cloister is winding, the stone path is secluded, the vermilion lacquered door symbolizes some kind of solid majesty, the Taihu stone elegantly blocks the escape just in the flash, time passes in that delicate hourglass, a ruined paper umbrella rewinds around the flower wall, since summer and autumn, the lark in the cage is long gone, only the dusty fence remains in the bamboo curtain, only the jasmine blossoms downstairs, and the years are densely bloomed. No longer looking for reasons, just in the gentle Jiangnan for love for a lifetime, who has a lack of manpower in the account room or private school, smoke and mist, wind and rain, the children are depressed, reciting an eternal Guan Jiu, in fact, I don't know if the story really exists or not, but they have been sung for thousands of years in Tang poetry and Song poetry, and it will surely be longer and longer.
On many long drizzling nights, who is holding this thread of love, borrowing a lone lamp, writing about their own spring and autumn. Explore the history and cultural heritage of Jiangnan summer rain, recall the summer rain in Jiangnan, the refreshing summer breeze in Jiangnan, the delicate rain in Jiangnan, the flowers in Jiangnan are fragrant and charming, the bamboo forest in Jiangnan is fragrant, the countryside of Jiangnan is full of the fragrance of the soil, the farmers in the cultivated fields sing, stepping on the green field dance, sweet in the drizzling Jiangnan, gradually integrated into the rural feelings of the years, smelling the flowers, drenched in rain, living in the countryside with green leaves, the breeze clamps the petals, the fragrance of flowers is wrapped in raindrops, a cup of tea and a bowl of rice soup, A plate of Qingtuan, a cup of rice wine, a coarse tea and light rice, a fragrance of summer rain, in the ethereal time, with a wisp of rain and dew, into the fragrance of your years, with a wisp of flower-fragrant dew, into your drizzle and painting, to enjoy the quiet beauty of the Jiangnan years in midsummer, the drizzle of summer wet your heart, wet my Yacha poetry. (Wang Shibin)