Jiangnan modern poetry

Jiangnan Modern Poetry 1

March is warm and fragrant.

The wind is also light.

Looking up at the sky suddenly.

Think of the sky in the distance.

Empty and pure or stormy and gloomy.

Smiling silently or crying for no reason.

It may be a white wall with black tiles.

Xu is from a flowing family.

Looking for a place under the roof of an ordinary family.

Is there a beautiful woman with a smile as bright as a flower?

She drank tea silently, with eyebrows like willows and hair like waterfalls.

She reads books and sighs at the glory and flowers.

She frowned and smiled. Cold and unruly.

She loves living things. Gentle and graceful.

She wrote very little. The eyebrows are stained with sadness.

Bluestone slab. Oil paper umbrella.

Each note jumps without complaining of silence.

Rainy day. Old teahouse.

Looking for an old friend to listen to the rain, drink tea and chat.

Time is clear and shallow. Time also moves slowly.

The fragrance of ink and the folding fan.

You are stained with books.

I always miss you. The so-called shallowness.

Every encounter is fate.

Feeling sad and envious.

Pure and gentle.

Large tracts of flower fields.

The goldfish and spider are also at ease.

Ancient Italian Corridor in recent years.

Half a cup of tea can be seen in the smoke.

Never met.

The face of that southern woman.

The long hair is flowing in green silk.

The rain lane is deep. The smile is shallow.

The eyebrows are curved. Long skirt.

Let the floating world be happy.

She is Jiangnan.

Jiangnan Modern Poetry 2

Part 1, Return Date

The rain is as warm and humid as March

A piece of blue-grey eaves paper, with late paint The wind is the best

In my wild imagination

I return to my Jiangnan again and again

Part 2. Season

I will visit Suzhou and take the scenery there into my bag

Come to the small town where the rain is dripping

Come to where all the leaves are fresh and clear

Zhouzhuang, Nanke and Huangliang are common in dreams

On the window eaves of the wooden attic

Wind chimes are hung and strings of warm sunshine

Occasionally You will find

Those delicate faces in the south of the Yangtze River

Third, fault

Roses nestle in the delicate petals

Without the rain, I All pride and love parted ways

For this I cried

In the south of the Yangtze River, in the capital of water, in the back garden

The flowering period has passed, for this I cried Crying Jiangnan Modern Poetry 3

Part 1, the past

Dust is settling in the mess

I suspect that a guzheng was once placed here

The wind blew through the side door

Leaning on a two-year-old timidly

Grandma sat on the threshold silently, slowly and slowly

Sewing a piece of the past, it seems that it will never be finished

She began to wear jade rings with five-color silk ropes

to weave a wedding dress for her sister

2. Sister’s love

[I think when I was very young, I had a sister...]

Dense and humid Jiangnan

My sister has been waiting for thousands of years and has been idle for thousands of years

My sister always likes

to lean in front of the window and look at the lotus pond

Look at the lotus pond and use bamboo poles to fish up the past

Sing a poem

I don’t know what dynasty the poet is hiding in

There is a trace of indifference and melancholy hidden between the eyebrows

She said she Waiting for a person

And he is waiting for a city

Part 3, Marrying a Mother

Suona, gongs, drums, blowing and beating

Dong-dong-dong-dong Ding Ding Dang Dang

Whose girl is getting married in town?

Kowtow in the hall

When I thought of this, my grandma’s face turned into a chrysanthemum with a smile

No. 4, Xiaoxiao

Flowerpot rubble

Bell and Drum Tower in the dusk

Feathers fluttering in the sunset, children cheering and applauding

Picking up a dogtail grass

Turning round and round

The little bride wears my ring and vows:

——"Hang yourself with a hook, and it will not change for a hundred years."

No. 5, Grievance

The rain is floating in the eyes

The dream is falling asleep in the dream

The two little ones who will help each other Release the fish

Light the pinellia fireflies into the first lanterns

The little boy is laughing and running across the weathered bridge

Sister, when will it be? Can you wait until the legendary thick rainy season in the south of the Yangtze River

to watch ducks playing in the water? Jiangnan Modern Poetry 4

One of the directors,

[The plot is purely fictional, just like the sorrow of a young man...]

I have always wanted to play The West Wing

Because I have fallen in love with the matchmaker

Falling in love with the endless thoughts

Falling in love with your coolness, as thin as paper

Mime is born when the throat is tired

Huadan Qingyi excerpt

Xiaodan’s good figure

Put down the instrument gently by the stage, and my love for you

Part 2, Passer-by

["The door knocker offended you, and I offended you when I passed by a small town in the south of the Yangtze River" - "Blue and White Porcelain"]

Passing by the water towns in the south of the Yangtze River

Passing by those deep and shallow places

Crowded and maze-like alleys

Passing oil-paper umbrellas one after another

Light rain fell from the sky

The non-stop scholar was in tears from the dust of travel Wang Wang Jiangnan Modern Poetry 5

My hometown is in Jiangnan

The homesick vines in my heart

Beginning to grow wildly in the spring rain

Spring in the north The flowers are blooming

Thinking of the patter of Jiangnan

The falling spring rain, one after another

The umbrella flowers are blooming in the rain alley

Under the umbrella The girl's face also bloomed with a spring smile

It was so beautiful, delicate and fragrant

It was a blossoming rose and jasmine flower

The bright moon of the Qin Dynasty drifts in

The sea of ??stars in the night sky of my hometown

The moon flows out of the clear spring

Bathing in the wind and clouds of the high sky

The mist and rain paint the hometown

One after another ink paintings

The peaks are inserted into the clouds, and the clouds and mountains are like dreams

It is a mirage in the mist and rain

I heard the sound of rice seedlings sprouting

I smelled the fragrance of wheat waves

I saw spring swallows flying back to build their nests in front of the hall

I saw skylarks fluttering their wings.

Touch the blue sky and taste the spirit of spring

Pieces of mountains and forests, trees one after another

Meditate in the rain and fog

White walls and black tiles Looming in the bamboo forest

The village girl walks on the stone road in the rain

Like streams flowing with spring water

The light footsteps crush the figure in the water

The laughter of the village girl washes in the stream

The stream sleeps with childhood fairy tales

The sky is filled with the nostalgia of the inner lake

The girl's singing is spreading

The mountains and slopes are full of joy

The mountains and flowing water sing the beauty of the hometown

The heart is soaked with the sweetness of the hometown

Spring walks on the muddy road

Leading the team of flowers in bloom

The spring orioles sing the new song of spring

It is the country music that sounds and hits

My ear drums evoke

My memories of my hometown

The reed flute quivered in the spring breeze

The bamboo forest shook out the freshness of the morning breeze

Birds sing to wake up the sleeping mountain village

The green grass rings the bells of grazing cows

The breeze dances the gray fog curtain

The drizzle dresses up the green Mountain forests

Everywhere is filled with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers

This is my hometown in Jiangnan Jiangnan Modern Poetry 6

Time moves on the clock, and the years are getting thicker

Tired yesterday, before I had time to settle down

The lotus in the pond has already reached the ninth level

On the ten-mile slope, the flowers and plants are fragrant, last year

The buried red bean seeds are now full of branches

A column of plain ink, half a piece of paper of lovesickness

The old dream from the previous night moistens the memory bit by bit Jiangnan

Who failed to live up to the blooming of the fireworks?

Does this skinny line of poetry still contain the speeches and old chapters of you and me?

Oh, it’s been such a long time since we’ve been apart. I guess you’ve already lost your horse.

July left, leaving the responsibility to August

The distorted dream returns to the cloud

I have to abandon my freedom again and set sail again

Although the lights in front of the case have long been extinguished,

How can the south-facing window close the wild geese?

Songs are used to comfort lonely souls, and hope is often dedicated to dreams

This summer, the only thing I can hold on to is the remaining faith

Yes Yes, I am indeed a little reluctant to give up

Regarding the great ideal and the lost Jiangnan, I will no longer outline or cover up

You can sleep peacefully for the time being, and there is no need to speculate. When will the rain come again

Only I know that when the dark clouds dissipate, you will definitely stay beside me in the form of wind

Just like the wanderer wandering outside, One day I will return to my hometown Jiangnan Modern Poetry 7

Love in the South of the Yangtze River

Xiaoxiang Moon, glass cup, jade pipa, white luan pendant,

Drinking from a bottle to the moon To express my sorrow and thoughts, I look at Gui Palace in the distance and see the moon in the sky, and I am left alone to be drunk!

When I want to play the song "Neon Clothes and Feathered Clothes", tears fall down my face,

How many people know how the flowers bloom and fall, a one-man show!

Do you still remember the two generations of people who listened silently to the words of the hibiscus trees and the dim lights?

I still recall the song "Quatrains", but I would rather wander around Jiangdong!

The dream returns to the Magpie Bridge Immortal begging for cleverness, and the marriage wish is fulfilled, but the sky is empty.

I hold the red beans in my arms and watch the broken bridge stream, thinking every inch of the flowing water.

The painting of the boat is quiet, listening to the rain, calling oneself a heartbroken person in Qinhuai.

Whoever plays "Pipa Yu" is also a fallen person from the end of the world?

Drunken with the bottle, weeping in sorrow! The misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the rain and the bells,

Sleep with the wind and remember the fragrance of the garden, the spring in the garden!

I hope the dream of returning to spring lasts forever and never wakes up!

The willows are leaning against each other, the butterflies are in love with the flowers, the flowers on the street are blooming like spring,

There is a dream behind the curtain, and the person in the painting. Jiangnan Modern Poetry 8

Sitting quietly in front of the window,

Looking up at the drifting mist and rain;

Hazy like smoke and fog,

Gently, it slipped in front of my eyes.

A wisp of breeze blows the whirling green willows,

Like a flowing curtain;

Against the backdrop of the setting sun,

Thousands of tenderness dropped.

On the slender willow leaves,

There is a faint fluorescence;

It is the fragments of rain, blended with the silhouette of the setting sun,

Shine before my eyes.

I want to pick up this fleeting charm,

and treasure it in the depths of my memory;

Turn it into a little resonance,

Stay in my heart forever.

The misty rain should be the most beautiful scenery in Jiangnan,

accompanied by the lingering waves of the Twenty-four Bridges;

Reflected in the setting sun,

A pool ripples slightly.

In February of early spring,

Carrying an oil-paper umbrella;

Walking in the center of the inclined bridge,

Like a small boat floating in the sky Wandering in the water.

The soft waves in the setting sun,

linked to the sound of the flute, melodious together;

The faintly graceful silhouette in the mist and rain,

That Is this the direction I am pursuing?

The mist and rain cannot take away my sadness,

The setting sun cannot take away my sorrow.

Farewell, misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River,

Farewell, the setting sun in dreams.

Time warms the years

In April in the south of the Yangtze River, it is misty and rainy

The patter of raindrops

Like a sweetheart whispering

It hasn’t fallen yet

The bluestones are already wet one after another

The raindrops are falling from the sky

Through the gray eaves, the ancient texture remains The wooden lattice window display

gradually blurred

A few spring swallows danced and wandered outside the corner

Occasionally passed the eye

Occasionally passed by the vendors Shouting softly

Then he blended into the crowd and disappeared

I was waiting for a corner where flowers bloomed in this winding alley like the wind of Tang Dynasty and the rain of Song Dynasty.

The messy heartstrings are waiting for you to straighten them

I never believe in love at first sight

I just want to believe that it is destined in my previous life

Finally waiting for you

Fortunately, I didn’t give up

Just as beautiful as I imagined

Hands as soft as silk, skin as creamy, and face as beautiful as Shunhua

All the beautiful years They are all dancing between your eyebrows

Lower your head

Smell the fragrance of your hair

The fragrance makes people drunk

At that moment, it was as if we were standing at a point in time

Back to the era of Tang poetry and Song poetry

The same quaint town

The same Qingyi alley

The only thing that cannot be forgotten is the lotus rhyme that belongs to you.

Passing before my eyes, the calm inner lake that has been maintained all year round

It’s like a big stone has been thrown into it, and it can no longer remain intact

The boundless feeling that emerges Ripples are all bits and pieces that belong to you

Sometimes people will have a strange familiarity

Things that have just happened and people that have just been met will have a sense of deja vu

That's because the previous life was too profound

The years are too long and the love is too short

Maybe, just in the river of reincarnation

Accidentally , lost each other

And the mark on the soul will keep flashing when we meet again

That is the look back left on the other side of the River of Forgetfulness

The sky is blue waiting for misty rain, and I am waiting for you

Wen/Chaoyan

To my beloved Jingjun

Your hair has grown Up to the waist

I am willing to marry you

Holding my son’s hand

Growing old with my son

Growing old together

《Meet Baishou Modern Poems on the South of the Yangtze River 10

The spring water is blue in the sky, and the painted boats listen to the rain and sleep

The south of the Yangtze River is a clear water, secretly hiding in the heart of the poet. Hazy, picking up flowers and picking up shadows, hanging on the tip of the bright moon, the moon melts into a cup of sweet wine, warming your heartbroken sorrow.

Jiangnan is an ancient house, deep and endless. He always quietly reassures the wanderer's heart: "Everyone says Jiangnan is good, but tourists only like Jiangnan." It's rainy night, and the pearly light of the western sky is lost in the dream of starlight. Quietly lay down your arrogant desolation, the cold dreams wet the pillow, but still can't keep your old heart. Jiangnan has been soaked with your loneliness all season long in early spring, but you will never come back if you are not lonely at the bridge.

Jiangnan is the memory of your overwhelming power in the hazy mist, and you are the back figure that cannot be forgotten, discarded, picked up, or recalled. Whoever stops for you at the end of the alley in Jiangnan, where the flowers bloom and fall, and who pays attention several times, who sings a song for you that will never stop, is your "Phoenix Seeking Phoenix" and your "Qin Song".

In April, the flowers from the south of the Yangtze River wet your shoulders, leaving a faint fragrance. What blooms in the air is the boundless song called non-love. The sparse shadows are obsessed with the shadows of spring willows, intoxicating your withered heart.

Swallows are whispering in your ears. In April, the smoke in the south of the Yangtze River is bright and the water is warm, but the water is clear and cold at dawn.

The Jiangnan wind in April slips away from the hair, breaking through the lingering drizzle bit by bit. The Dumeng Corridor Bridge gently embraces the ancient wind, and the skirt swaying in the wind in the dream becomes the last quarter moon in memory. , rushing eastward like running water, while you are guarding the kite little by little on the west bank, which is Jiangnan.

The peach blossoms are in full bloom at the end of the ancient bridge, and the bells of the ancient temple rely on the dusk, fearing that all time will slip away.

Everyone lives in Jiangnan, which is the comfort in loneliness, the tranquility in comfort, and the deep thought in tranquility

So Jiangnan is a poem, with spring flowers, autumn moon, and broken bridges The remaining snow, the shallow leaping of fish and dragons, and the painted bridges of smoked willows dress up the time in my memory into a city called "Jiangnan". The poem says: I walked through the south of the Yangtze River

The faces waiting for the seasons are like the blooming and falling of lotus flowers

If the east wind does not come, the catkins in March will not fly

Your heart is like a small lonely city

Just like the bluestone streets facing the evening

The sound is silent, and the spring curtain of March is not lifted

You The bottom of my heart is a small window tightly closed

My dada’s horse hooves are beautiful mistakes

I am not a returnee, I am a passerby...