Use similes and metaphors to describe scenery

Silver-white moonlight poured over the ground, and the mournful chirping of crickets was heard everywhere. The fragrance of the night filled the air, weaving a soft web that covered all the scenery. What the eyes touch is covered with this soft net of things, any grass and trees, are not like in the daytime as the reality, they have a blurred, ethereal colors, each of which hides its delicate points, all keep its secrets, so that people have a dreamlike feeling.

(Ba Jin "home")

Moonlight such as silver, nowhere to shine, the mountain bamboo in the moonlight into a black. The sound of insects in the bushes around me is as dense as falling rain. Occasionally do not know from where, suddenly there will be a grass warbler "fall fall fall fall hush" warble its throat, soon, this little bird seems to understand that this is the middle of the night, should not be so noisy, it is still closed that little eye sleep.

(Shen Congwen, "Border Town")

He leaned against the screen window and looked out. The sky was full of stars, dense and busy, they were silent, and it seemed that the sky was only lively. A comb of the moon is like a description of a girl who has not yet grown up, but see people are no longer shy, the brightness and outline are fresh and exposed, gradually can be set against the night scene. Small insects in the grass of the garden are trivial in the night talk. I don't know where the frogs are working in unison, like a wave of sound boiled by the fire. A few stars of fireflies swim to and fro, not like flying, like floating in the thick air, the moonlight is not in the dark, a bit of fireflies suddenly bright, like a summer night of a small green eyes.

(Qian Zhongshu's "Siege")

The pool in Zhongshan Park is like a mirror, with the full moon reflected on the surface. A few street lamps by the trees near the pool, the round light reflected in the water like a small moon around the moon in the pool. One piece of bloated white clouds moved slowly across the surface of the pool, as if they were a group of old women, bending their backs, straining step by step to pass in front of the moon, trying to cover it up, but the moon poured its bright light through the gaps in the clouds. One white cloud joined with another like a wide irregular band, dividing the clear sky into two halves. The white clouds moved past and faded into the distance. The sky was crystal clear and the moon appeared bright.

(Zhou Zhou's "Shanghai Morning")

The night in the north at the end of May is the most refreshing and beautiful time. The sky was as if it had been brushed and scrubbed, without a trace of cloud, blue and clear, high and far away. A round moon, from the east of the mountain beams climbed out, like a big lantern, the valley of a strange stone densely illuminated, the branches of the trees, the shadow of young grass projected on the path, flowers, dots, leisurely and swinging. The lodging birds are chirping on the branches, the little worms are hopping in the grass trees, the spring seedlings in the terraces are pulling up the stalks and growing; and there are thousands of lives rejoicing in the mountains and fields ......

(Haoran, "The Day of the Rising Sun")

The moonlight pours over this garden, and the distant woods, their tops loaded with a silvery light, and their forests baked out in a dense blackness of shadows, are covered with the light of the moon. Silence and solemnity pressed there. The spray of the fountain, the microwaves in the pool, all reflecting the bright moonlight, rippled there, and the green grass at her feet and the flowers and grass near her were also covered with moonlight, soft and silent in the trampling by her.

(Yu Dafu, "Autumn River")

The moon is coming out. The moon is still far away, but behind the horizon one feels it rising from the dark abyss. A faint light rimmed the tops of the trees that surrounded the high slopes, as if they were the rims of goblets, and the sidelights of these tree peaks reflected in the shimmering light appeared deeper and darker by the minute than by the minute.

(French: Romain Roland, "Mother and Child"). Roland: "Mother and Child")

The mist had dissipated, and the silvery moonlight, like a widow's mourning dress in its own dazzling splendor, covered the wide sandy beach. There was not a single boat on the river, not even a microwave in sight, and in the center of the river, on the banks, there was a quietness everywhere, which was like the endless peace that death brings to the suffering sick.

(India Tagore: "Shipwrecked")

After eight kilometers of Qutang Gorge, the dark clouds suddenly disappeared, and on the top of the gorge there was a blue sky with a few small pieces of golden clouds, and a note of sunshine fell on the left cliffs like lightning. On the right side of the peak of a white cloud like white silver sheet like bright, but the sun has not yet descended. At this time, far ahead, countless layers of mountains above the misty clouds, suddenly appeared a red mist. You see, the reddish purple peaks, set off by this fog, really beautiful. It is like the glitter of red jewels reflecting upward from the deep valley, which makes people seem to enter the realm of myth. At this time, you look towards the river, is also colorful: two sides of the giant rock, reflections such as ink; the middle of the zigzag, but like a glittering road, above the swinging fine waves of light; near the mountains, it is turquoise as emerald. Minute by minute, the red mist in front of the more red and brighter. Boat more and more close, gradually see a peak pavilion standing in the red fog, gradually see that the red fog is millions of strong sunlight. At 8:20, we came to this piece of clear golden sunrise.

Liu Baiyu, "Three Days on the Yangtze River"

The fog that separates the people from me is the fog in the sky. The high buildings, the watery vehicles, the crowded pedestrians; everything was gone, and even the arms that swung out when I was walking disappeared into the mist.

Jin Yi, "The Fog"

Outside the house, the morning fog, which was so thick that no one could be seen from the opposite side of the house, had already receded and faded. In the slowly gaining sunlight, white spots of fog tossed and drifted in bursts, as if rustling. The fence, the mound, the wall, all in the fog showed a fuzzy image.

Wang Xiyan, "Spring Returns to Warm the Ground"

The mist

was like a light veil, like smoke and arrays, and like clouds; it hung on the trees, circled around the ridge of the house, roamed on the mountain road, and hid itself in the grass. A moment like the rushing tide of the sea, a moment like white gulls in flight. The cloudy smoke gusts, floats away and floats, and everything becomes hazy. In a moment, this milky white mist, turned into tiny drops of water. Sprinkled on the road, sprinkled in the bushes, sprinkled on the face of the head. Gently, greasy, a little moist. People inhale the smell of wild chrysanthemums and feel slightly drunk.

Qiu Zhijie's "Misty Veil Fugue"

Morning Fog

The night fog slowly faded, the color became white, like a flowing transparent body, and the east turned white. The floating veil-like mist covered Cao Yang New Village, the village's buildings and trees if not there. It is not possible to see the buildings and trees as a whole; it is not possible to say that it is not there, but where the mist opens up, the outlines of the buildings and trees are hidden, and with the thickness of the mist, it is changing, as if it were a mirage.

Zhou Zu "Shanghai Morning"

I don't know when the fog started. At dawn, the fog rolled in from the upper reaches like cotton balls; it climbed up the riverbank, crossed the trees, and flooded away to both sides ...... The fog stuffed the shed, staining the face with wet, slippery grease; none of us could see anyone's face.

Ye Weilin, "On the River Without a Navigational Marker"

One foggy morning, I came to the embankment. The mountains and the lake had disappeared, and there was only an impenetrable milky-white chaos in front of me. The sound of the fog came from far and near, and the pleasant sound of the birds. There was a vague dot in the white void, and then the outline of a boat gradually appeared. It was one of the earliest yachts of the day.

Yu Min's "Scenes from West Lake"

Early in the morning, a thick fog filled the air. In accordance with the doctor's orders, I took a leisurely walk along the lakeshore. I could only hear the birds singing in my ears, but I couldn't see their delicate figures. A group of slightly chilly fog from time to time on the face, swept by the body. Usually the street lamps equipped with dazzling high-pressure mercury bulbs, today seems so dull and weak, flickering in the tossing and winding fog. It was as if I was walking into a fairy tale world.

Ping Zhang, "Morning Fog at Mirror Lake"

Night Fog

On one occasion when I was walking back to Songxue Building from the Ski Club, I suddenly realized that there was a layer of fog on the road, which thickened and dispersed at once, and it was really a marvelous experience, as if I had walked into a fog tent, and I felt it flowing from the side of my hair and from the side of my ears, and from the middle of my fingers; and it was as if I were rowing in a foggy river. The sound of the pine waves on both sides of the sound can not be heard, light boat a turn, has passed ten thousand mountains, look back and then look again, can not see the fog has come, can not see the fog has been in this station.

Lin Ching-hsien, "Impressions of Acacia Mountain"

Spring Fog

In early April, when the cherry blossoms, a warm wind blows through the newly dug flower beds, and the garden, like a woman, is being groomed for the summer festival. When one looks out from the trellis, one sees the river zigzagging and flowing carelessly across the meadow. The mist of dusk, floating through the midst of the withered poplars, as if a fine veil were hanging from the branches, yet whiter and more transparent than the veil, clouded over, outlining the poplars in a cordial color.

(French) Flaubert, Madame Bovary

Summer Mist

Summer nights are short, and dawn comes early. Before the sun rises, the forests, the rings of mountains, and the small flat rivers surrounded by them, are all hidden in a thick, stagnant fog. Only the top of the forest appeared above the fog. As the sun rises, the fainter and fainter color of the fog moves and flows, and disappears without a trace. The contemplative forest, the band-like streams on the flat river all appeared; near and far, all were solemn, layered, thick and light, deep and light green, green, still green.

Zhang Jie, "Children from the Forest"

Autumn Fog

It was only yesterday that it was a sunny day with no clouds, but on that day, the mountains, the sea, and everywhere seemed to be filled with a layer of hot fog, sticky and stained, not very clean. The cicadas are also strange, the more hot, the more love noise, noise people and hot and annoying. The winds of autumn together, look ah: the sky has clouds, clouds are transparent; the mountains and the sea clearly covered with a layer of fog, the fog also seems dry and refreshing.

Yang Shuo, "The Autumn Wind"

Winter Fog

London's winter fog, is it really defending this ancient city in advance? I got up in the morning and carried a roll of blankets, along with a straw mat, to the pile room. Went upstairs feeling cold. With a wooden stick to ruffle the black curtains on the window, outside is a dismal gray fog. Not only is the steeple of Eton Road Church in the back street gone, but even the pear tree in the back garden is only a dark shadow. When I was in a daze, there was a whiff and a jump, and our civet cat sat on the back of the sofa. It timidly glanced at me, shrinking four legs, curled up like a vase with a bulging stomach, and stared into the gray fog. The sound of a car's horn came from the fog, sometimes short, sometimes mellifluous. ......

Xiao Qian, Three London Diaries

White Fog

The morning sun came late, and the stars refused to leave. However, milky white vapors have risen from the river. The Liuxi River, which surrounds the Huluba Dam, has so many misty, transparent white veils! In a flash, it formed a cage of huge white tent, a ten-mile radius of the gourd dam to the tightly covered up. This is the Tuojiang River valley area famous fog.

Zhou Keqin, "Xu Mao and His Daughters"

Blue Fog

The light blue fog rose from under the grass and tea tree stumps. The fresh scent of berry blossoms, plums and hedgehogs mingled with the morning mist, and the whole mountain dock was filled with a warm and cool fragrance; even the blue mist looked like the vapor that evaporates from the brewing of spices.

Xuan Ai's "Biluochun News"

Gray Mist

The grayish-white mist rose upward from the rocky valley, while the dark clouds that pressed down on the top of the mountain became lower and lower. In a moment, the peaks were hidden, the road was impossible to see, and it was dark all around.

Junqing "Mountain Eagle"

Cold Fog

A white cold fog, shrouded in the high red brick wall of the arsenal and brick wall outside the main road, shrouded in the arsenal opposite the aviation at the vast airfield; surrounded the end of the city street at the figure of the ancient tower. ...... This thick cold fog, from the morning factory high chimneys next to the release to urge the workers to go to work whistle, foot traffic, people, traffic sound and miscellaneous footsteps, pouring into the gate of the arsenal, began to like a thick smoke like a thick smoke spread down, now it is almost to the small evening, it has not the slightest intention of dissipation. The sun had just shown its round face with a halo of light from a gap in the chaotic, frozen clouds, but it soon disappeared. The sky was filled with clear snow like broken jade, and the sharp cold air poked at people's skin, so that the exposed ears, cheeks, fingertips, and the tips of the toes in the worn-out cotton shoes were all frozen and painful like a cat's bite. "What a cold Laxi, Laxi, frozen off the jaws of nine cold days which!" ......

Cai Tianxin, "The Storm of the Hun River"

Faint Fog

A long, faint fog filled all the valleys, and the fog crept silently and alone up the mountain, as if it were an evil spirit seeking a resting place and could not find it. Sticky wet and cold cold fog slowly drifting, apparently visible, waves ebb and flow, chasing each other, as if the waves on the treacherous sea. The density of the fog closed off the lights of the car, and nothing could be seen except the fog's own bottom convulsions within a few yards; the foul breath of the tired horses mingled with the fog as if it had been caused by them.

(English) Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

The fog

The drizzle, which had turned into a thick fog, wrapped the landscape fifty feet away in a blurred, dizzying shell. There were a few tall buildings that towered above the clouds, only the highest floors of which were visible in the fog, and the yellowish lights flickered out of the giant eye-like rows of windows, which looked from afar like mirages floating in mid-air, with no hint of their majesty. And this fog is boundless, the car broke through the suffocating tide forward, the glass of the window into a hair glass, is close to the figures have become a halo of the strange; everything has lost the distinctive outline, everything in the blurring of the distortion.

Mao Dun, "Zi Yi"

The sun had set; the fog, white as milk, rose over the river, in the church walls, and in the open spaces around the factory. By this time darkness was falling fast, and already the lamps were flickering below the slope, and it looked as if the fog covered a bottomless abyss ......

(Russian) Chekhov, "In the Canyon"

Mountain Fog

Steeply the fog rose, a mass of fog, at first so tumbled that it It seemed to be rolling a snowball. Rolling and rolling, the world is white. Occasionally, the tops of the mountains were exposed, and the forests and trees became delicate and gentle, pulsating with a flavor of love. Then the roots of the mountain also came out. But the mountainside, still white, white empty. Is sighing, a blink of an eye, the clouds but abruptly dispersed, and from now on do not know where it disappeared.

Jia Pingwa "reading the mountains"

Morning, the mountains are filled with steaming white fog, the green-gray Great Wall of China is like a huge dragon, with the mountains meandering down, diving into the sea of fog. The dark orchard, hidden in the sea of fog, like an island undulating in the waves.

Mother Guozheng's "Scattered Songs from Mountain Villages"

The sun shines straight down into the depths of the valleys, and the mountains are lined up as if in a single direction, in a single posture. These valleys, so deep as to be difficult to measure, were now steaming with white, hot air so thick that it looked like clouds. It was as if, beneath the earth, great unseen fires were burning and mysterious springs of water were evaporating.

Sun Li, "The First Book of Wind and Clouds"

The fog on the lake

The clouds were thick, and when they fell on the lake, it was fog, a gray mist, watery, like a great smoke bubble on the moor, a winter bath, a dimness that engulfed the distant and nearer mountains around the lake. A cool drizzle, drifting horizontally, ghosts know, it is from the sky, or from the head of the lake, out. Look at a glance like there, and then look again, and like there is no ...... only skilled boatmen, can in this kind of weather as usual to carry passengers to swim in the lake.

Zhang Anti "puddle in the ocean"

South Lake Taihu, can not discern the shape, but only think of a piece of the side of the open space, as if it is made of millions of silver silk weaving, there is the moonlight under the light of the light, there is the lake wave back to shoot the silver arrows, and such as nothing but there, like thin and thick, a half transparent, half sticky wet lake fog lake smoke, if you put your body hard towards the south a jump!

This is the first time I've ever seen the world's most popular movie, and I'm sure it'll be a great success.

Yudafu, "Sentimental Journey"

The Fog of the Forest

He walked along a snake-like path into the fog of the forest every morning, as if he were walking into a hazy dream. The milky-white fog that filled the mountains and valleys was so deep and so thick that it was like flowing syrup that it could float a man to his feet.

Gu Hua, "The Wooden House Covered with Green Vines"

The fog floated and flowed in the forest. Leaves of all shapes, round, oval, slender, and multi-angled ...... looked like millions of little green hands. The mist brushed against them, leaving a layer of tiny water droplets on the leaf palms. The small water droplets flowed and converged into a large droplet in the palm, like holding a crystal mercury bead. Heavy and falling, another large droplet is generating ......

Yoon Joon Ching, "Yellow of the Foggy Mountain"

Fog on the Prairie

Every morning, a thick fog floods the mountains, rivers and roads; the clear, cool air of the prairie becomes as murky and dirty as the springs trodden on by the herds of horses!

Malachimov, "The Vast Grassland"

Fog on the Sea

The last of the violet light had disappeared from the sea, and a heavy fog rose up from the water; and the stars, which had been twinkling for a while in the sky, were all out of sight. The fog thickened before their eyes, obscuring the sky, the distant horizon, and even the ship. Only the chimneys and the massive mainmast were now still visible, and from a little distance the sailors' forms looked like shadows. After another hour, everything was hidden in the white fog, and not even the lights hanging from the tops of the masts, or the sparks flying out of the chimneys, could be seen.

(Bo) Hinckerwitz, "For Bread"

The fog was rising, but it came down again, denser. Sometimes it was completely opaque. The ship was trapped in an iceberg-like fog. It was horribly encircling, opening up like a vice; giving glimpses of a corner of the horizon, and immediately closing in again.

(French) Hugo, "Laborers at Sea"

The Fog of Mount Lu

You, the fog of Mount Lu, seems to be inscrutable. A moment of light flooding, confusing; in the blink of an eye, but no trace, do not know where to go. You seem to be a fairy who refuses to show his face, but also like a young girl with a lot of love - this is you, the fog on Mount Lu. You belong to Mount Lu. You dissolve into the strange and beautiful Kuanglu empty mountain color. It is you moisturize the Kuanglu magnificent landscape, even the rocky grass, but also particularly long, beautiful.

Qiu Zhijie "fog yarn fugue"

Gobi Beach fog

May of the Gobi, green grass. The green brambles are wet. It rained heavily in the morning, and when it cleared up at dusk, there was a ground fog. A wisp of a wisp of fog, white clouds in the sky, lined up on the beach gently fluttering, gently fluttering. If you stand a little farther away, you will think that the whole beach seems to be moving, and the mountains in the distance seem to be moving as well.

Tang Guangyu's Gobi Love Story