1. I don't see anyone on the empty mountains, but I hear people talking. I can't see anyone in the empty mountains, but I can hear people's voices. The scenery has entered the deep forest, and the moss is shining again.
2. The weather is late in the fall after fresh rain on the empty mountains. The moon shines between the pines, and the spring flows over the stones. The bamboo is noisy, and the lotus is moving under the fishing boat. The spring fragrance rests at will, the king and grandchildren can stay. --From Wang Wei's "Autumn Night in the Mountain Dwelling"
It describes the peaceful and quiet dusk scenery of the mountain dwelling in early autumn after the rain, and expresses the poet's noble feelings and pursuit of an ideal realm.
3. The deep courtyard is quiet, the small court is empty, and the intermittent cold anvil is intermittent wind. I can't help it if the night is long and people can't sleep, but the sound of the moon and the sound of the moon is coming to the curtain bar. The song is about a long night of sleeplessness, and the thoughts of sorrow are all over the place.
4. The osmanthus blossoms fall in idleness, and the night is quiet and the mountains are empty. The moonrise startles the mountain birds, and sometimes they sing in the spring stream.
It describes the night of spring, when there is no sound, and the green mountains and blue forests are even more empty.
5. Drinking at night, Dongpo woke up and got drunk again, and returned as if it was three o'clock. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said. I'm not going to knock on the door, but I'm going to lean on my staff and listen to the sound of the river. I hate this body is not my own, when will I forget the camping. At the end of the night, the wind is still and the gauze lines are smooth. The boat has passed away since then, and the river and the sea have sent me the rest of my life.
The spring is gone with the falling flowers, and the summer is covered with green leaves in the warm wind bouncing. Grass, reeds and red, white and purple wildflowers, by a round of hot sun high in the sky steam, the air is full of sweet intoxication.
There was not a cloud in the air, not a breath of wind, a hot sun overhead, and all the trees stood listlessly and lazily. In the height of summer in July, there was not a cloud in the tile blue sky, the hot sun scorched the earth, the water in the river was scalding hot, and the soil in the ground was smoking.
The sun is like a big, big fireball, the light is burning, the highway is the hot sun baked hot, foot step down a string of white smoke. Willow leaves rolled, small flowers and grasses with their heads down, the earth is hot, the lake is hot, dragonflies flying low in the lake surface spinning, which is it to the fish report: good news - it is going to rain!
One night in summer, the stars were twinkling in the sky, a cool breeze dispersed the heat of the day, and the earth was silent. It was a summer of long drought and no rain, the hot sun baked the old loach in the field turned white, the village side of the creek, the stream a few inches lower, those exposed to the water surface of the stone, steeply become larger.
Early summer, pomegranate flowers gradually open, green leaves lined with red flowers, beautiful. From a distance, it looks like a roaring fire, and like a reddish sunset rising at dusk.
Ah, I love the starry sky of the summer night, because it is so colorful, so beautiful and touching, so rich in mystery ! Praise summer can not be denied, the spring of thousands of red, autumn gold, winter, silver, did make people fall. However, summer also has its own verdant dress.
Which corner of the summer is not full of green to symbolize life? When you climb to the top of the mountain, looking around the turquoise wilderness, the dark green mountains, like the ocean on the huge waves, one wave after another, winding connection, has been stretching to distant places, with the gray-blue sky connected to a piece of the whole earth into a huge carpet stretching around, lush, full of vitality. The summer sun is like a big fireball hanging in the sky.
Stinging our eyes can not open. On the road, the asphalt has been softened by the sun.
A wave of heat came over us, making it hard to breathe. On the big trees along the roadside, the robins are screaming endlessly, as if to say, "It's hot, it's hot, it's hot".
The flowers have lowered their heads, the grass has bent down, all seem to be listless. And what about the children? One by one, they are hiding in the swimming pool.
Look at the children in the pool one by one, densely packed, only showing a small head. Hot summer that people can not avoid the heat, really make people headache, whether you walk in the hot sun under the road, or has entered the trees, the shadow of the house; whether in the morning or in the evening, the heat of the summer is always accompanied by you, entangled in you, really upset people.
The summer night of the square night, the weather finally cooled down, people coincide to the square to walk, that's a lot of people, men and women, young and old endless, a moment of the square of colorful lights, the square illuminated brightly. A gust of wind blowing, so cool ah! Everyone in the square to talk about the world, the old people sitting under the tree leisurely fan fan, some in the song, some in the side of the walk and chat, there are dancing, everyone in the square play really happy.
Summer rain summer afternoon, I sat in front of the window to do homework, looked up and saw the dark clouds, the sky gray. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, and at once the sand flew away and the branches of the trees swung about.
Before long, it started to rain. The rain started like a string of pearls, and in a flash, it turned into a downpour, and in a short time the sky was hung up in an endless curtain of rain.
The streets, roofs, and corridors became a world of rain. Rain on the window, not "clatter" sound, but "pop" sound; fell on the body, feel like a piece of rubber on the body, and painful and itchy.
The summer night sun is no longer so fierce, it converged on the capricious, so the moon gradually appeared in the sky. The yellowish full moon appeared and disappeared, it was so small and pale, almost like a piece of pie that was about to fall.
The sun packs up its afterglow and slowly disappears under the trees in the distance, and the clouds in the sky are dyed an orange-red color, so blinding, but also with the descent of the sun slowly becoming lighter, lighter, until it disappears completely. The summer thunderstorm day gradually turned gray, gray clouds blocked the sky and drove the sun home, the sky became dead all of a sudden.
In a short while, the wind whistled in the face, the wind shook the branches of the trees, a moment like the athletes on the field to cheer the people shouting, and a moment like the sea waves in the tossing and turning. After a while, showers of rain "clatter" from the sky down, as big as beans scattered on the ground.
After a while, the rain fell more heavily, the thunder and lightning uncle also came to join the fun. The thunder and lightning, really summer thunderstorm.
In the distance, rolling dull thunder, as if from a distant battlefield came the sound of artillery. And the lightning, one after the other, like a red-tipped serpent with fire in its body, flew across the sky, illuminating the dark sky.
Song of the summer night just out of the building, a cool breeze brushing everyone's face, in the haze vaguely heard the pond on the willow tree, the robin in the voice of the "summer". In the water on the water lily leaves, frogs in a burst of singing "songs".
Are they fighting for the selection of the "King of Songs"? The bright moonlight is sprinkled all over the earth, shining brightly on everyone's heart. After the thunderstorm in June and July, the sky, like a doll's face, said change, just now or clear skies, a moment will be dark clouds, thunder, followed by a downpour.
Although it is raining, but the misty rain to the mountains added a lot of charming colors. The rain washed away the days of summer, brought freshness to the fields, brought a new green.
Mist and rain covered the mountains, milky white cloud veil around the mountainside fluttering, like a fairy dancing ...... good a drenching ink landscape painting ah! Walking here, quite a "people in the painting" feeling. Early summer roadside shade of the diamond poplar, the fields on the sprawling grapevines ...... early summer, all colors of wildflowers are blooming: red.
3. about summer verses, the more the betterdawn out of the net ci temple to send Lin Zifang Song Yang Wanli After all, the West Lake in June, the scenery is not the same as the four seasons.
Small Pond Yang Wanli The spring is silent, and the shade of the trees loves the water. The small lotus is only showing its sharp tip, and the dragonfly is already standing on the head.
Song Fan Chengda plums and apricots, wheat flowers and vegetables. The day is long and the hedges are deserted, but only the dragonflies and nymphs are flying.
4
The summer night, Tang Du Fu, the perpetual sun can not be twilight, hot steam poison my intestines. The wind is floating in the air and blowing my clothes, and the moon is in the sky, and the forests are full of light. The night is short in midsummer, so I opened the pavilion to get a little cooler. The virtual bright see the slightest, the feather insects also fly. There are no big or small things, but they are always in their own way, remembering the Hogoshes, who guarded the borders for years and years. The first time I saw him, I was looking at him, but he was not there, and he was not there. They are not only the best of the best, but also the best of the best. Though I am in the body, I might as well return to my hometown as early as possible. In the northern city, sad whistle is blowing, storks and cranes are calling and flying. I am not sure how much I will be able to do this, but I am sure that I will be able to do it.
5
Summer Song Song Dai Shiping The water in the duck pond is shallow and deep, and the weather is half sunny and cloudy. The east garden is full of wine and the west garden is drunk, and the loquat tree is full of gold.
I hope it will help you, Tencent literature "Yan Wang this life" author submitted, please collect
4. what are the beautiful modern poems about "summer"Yu Guangzhong, light blue night overflowed into the window, the summer poured too full of fireflies, the small lanterns dreamed of the Tang Palace, dreaming of the chasing of the light fan, dreaming of another summer night, a star's funeral, dreaming of a flash of stretching and elimination, as well as your exclamation of surprise and a moment of countenance, and my review. Where else but in summer can I wait, hoping that the green is spreading over the hills, that the wind is not blowing, that a few full bunches of thoughts are climbing as high as they can, that the power of everything is spreading over the vastness of the hills, hoping that you will come and pick the black, crystal eyes of-- --------- The Rhythm of Summer I. Summer Sounds The patio is open, who calls me from outside the patio, with the humid sounds of summer, and in the rubbing of the sounds, something of me is warmed up, the accumulation of three seasons, the eruption of one, and I drift in the sounds. Walking in the summer, I walk into a lingering melody, walking in the summer, being softened by the summer, unclogging the bloodstreams in the summer, accepting again and again the hints of breaking through the confinement, and piling up again and again the language of preparation, the longing to get lost in the summer, to forget the paths that led to the summer, listening to the summer, the stumbling steps, the stumbling steps. Listening to the summer, how the stumbling man sighs, when his palms are wet, I creep on the summer grass, planting a tree, a tree with its own branches and leaves, a tree that scrapes the wind, a tree that grows up in the embrace, that overflows with tears in the crown, that buries its sighs in the roots, a tree whose middle part is the longing for man, that disappears in the day, that is planted in the night, and that bears the light of the starlight and the moon, that is planted in summer and learns to speak only in cryptic language. Trees, planted in summer, have learned to be silent, to express themselves only by the swaying of their branches. There is a happiness called being conquered, a feeling called being on the road, a season called summer, a beauty called a summer lake, a summer lake, a lake so serene it's almost silent, a summer lake so beautiful it's almost worth looking up to, a lake that is so beautiful that when you walk by it, the lake is swirling in a thousand ways, and when you swim in it, it's like caressing your own skin, and the summer has made it mysterious. Summer makes the lake mysterious, and there are talking fish, and summer makes the grass grow, and there are desires, and traps made of desires, and summer makes the lake beautiful, and the women walk along the shore of the lake, like nymphs from the palace of heaven, and walk in summer, and the bright lights go before them, and the light attracts the light, and the light overflows, and the lake forms another beauty, and the truth is that, in the end, what is pursued, the flavor of the lake, whether it be in summer, or in winter, has disappeared, and we have to walk leisurely in the fields in summer, and we can't see the lake, but we have to walk on it. In the summer field, our pace is leisurely and beautiful, we are young, the wind blows, and the prose poems reach my heart, and we sway with the summer field, we are happy lovers, we have a kind of silent understanding, I have a long after-thought, and you have a dashing charm, we are quiet in the summer wind, my thoughts are serene, I'm intoxicated, my guesses are romantic, but I'm melancholy. Sitting in the summer moonlight, waiting for you Summer is going away You're murmuring to me from afar It's a bitter summer It's a bitter hope Waiting for you Sitting in the summer moonlight The moonlight doesn't erase the clouds My heart can't be at peace I'm obsessed with guarding it In my dreams, I see the misty rain When will I see the back of you trekking? I walked deeper into the wilderness, into your thoughts, silently feeling the weight of time, long refusing to leave, the rain washed away the summer sky, the light blue color revealed the loneliness, the pencil recorded the story of that year, the parting scene was like an old movie, you said sorry I love you and then fell into tears, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't do anything more, the dream would be broken and the sorrows would remain, since the first summer you left, I've tried to write down the most beautiful poems about us, but I couldn't write warm words, the coldness of the fingertips, I couldn't write warm words, I couldn't write warm words. The first summer after you left, I tried to write the most beautiful poem about me and you, but I couldn't get my fingers cold enough to write warm words. Oh, baby, but I still don't understand why you chose to leave and whether I should continue to wait for the sycamore leaves by the side of the road to float and then green, the moonlight wandering outside the door, and someday the lost heart will come back.