Located in the Fengyun Lake behind the three factories and three mines
Lakeside reed flowers
The wind, holding the clouds; the clouds, fell into the lake. The lakeside reeds are decorated with white yarn, like a bride in full dress. The reed flowers are idyllic and elegant. She is otherworldly and rejects kitsch. Coming from the ancient "Book of Poetry" and Qin Feng, it implies a noble identity.
"The leaves are pale, and the white dew is frost." The so-called Iraqis are on the water side. Crabapple leaf, white dew is not sun. The so-called Yi people are in the water of The Mei. The crab leaves are harvested, and the white dew is not finished. The so-called Yi people are in the water. ”
The so-called Iraqi people render a nostalgic thought. Yi people, like flowers, like flowers in the fog; non-flowers, like the moon in the water, let the pursuing people, look around a vast expanse and look into the distance, down the river or against the wind, the road is long and up and down.
A nostalgic thought, soaked in the autumn of Daqing, the autumn wind ten miles, the reed flowers are huge.
Lu Hua gently sings and dances, and the graceful waist is a beautiful poem. The white feathers of the reeds are like flocks of cranes spreading their wings, light and free, and an emotional painting hangs between heaven and earth. In the sun, the reed flowers shine with golden light, the flower spikes are full of jaws, and in the breeze, the clusters of flowers play together, causing the magpies on the trees to "chirp" and say envy, and the fish in the water are also quietly sent blessings.
Reed flowers, reflected in the lake, seem to have entered the pavilion from the wilderness. Like a very girl's face, the fluffy silkiness, soft as jade. The water waves hit, one open and one close, how to borrow the lyricist Dongpo to write Yang Hua's charm: the language is sleepy and delicate, want to open and close. How not to get drunk? Drunk in the reeds, drunk in the lake, drunk in the beautiful dream and refusing to wake up!
Branches of reeds, nestled with the water of the lake; pieces of reeds, accompanied by the wasteland. She paints a charming stroke on a large oil field in plain, elegant colors. She hides her proud bones in her suppleness, rooted in the soil with infinite toughness, and her body is not branched, and she stands straight into the sky. She remains humble in the vicissitudes. No matter the spring, summer, autumn or winter, the posture is exquisite, solid and safe, and it has never flown far. In the landscape painting of the earth, Lu Hua uses her tranquility to pave the way, reflecting the masculine and majestic shore of the pumping machine, expressing it vividly. A stormy meeting, high and beautiful.
The person is faint, the water is misty, and it blows into the reed piccolo. A leisurely and elegant charm, stained with the heart, Full of reeds in the hand, from the melancholy of Naranjande, crossing to the present of the clear sky, the realm of tranquility and far-reaching suddenly emerged,
Meeting in time, parting, or reuniting, are the warmth of the swaying branches of the years. The so-called Yi people, entrusted to the reeds, rise as poetry, is undoubtedly a beautiful life that we all sentient beings constantly seek, or a lofty spiritual realm. It is equivalent to the understanding and echo of the three realms of the kingdom's Uighur words.
The four seasons are reincarnated, the sun and the moon change, no matter the clouds and sunshine, no matter the joys and sorrows, you can love and stick to it. The road back to the road is far away and the wind and snow are mixed, but I hope to lead the "Yi people" and easily say: look like each other.
The autumn wind is ten miles, and the reeds are mighty.
Hearing that you are in the wilderness, I am willing to travel thousands of miles to follow you.
A machine, a lake, a reed flower, a painting of nature
There is a sun in the ☀️ water
The beauty smiles like a flower, holding a reed flower in her hand, the beauty is earth-shattering, and the sun and moon are full.
Walk slowly and chat slowly, occasionally looking at each other.
After artistic processing, the reed flowers are completely red.
Never been so close, so intimate!
Author: A person who knows both teaching and writing. He is a senior middle school teacher and a member of the Heilongjiang Provincial Writers Association. Published two collections of essays, "Holding a Book in Hand" and "Snow Falling Silently".