I like ancient poems. When I was young, I was often immersed in the rhythm of ancient poetry. Every night, listening to the ancient poems played by the tape recorder, accompanied by cicadas singing outside the window and a breeze blowing, I feel unprecedented happiness.

Accompanied by ancient poetry, my poetic life has cultivated a strong pastoral. The first ancient poem I can recite is "Chanting Willow". "Jasper is dressed as a tree and hung with 10,000 green silk tapestries." I asked my father what "green silk tapestries" meant. Father said that the "green silk tapestry" is a wicker hanging down like a ribbon, just like a green bow tied on my sister's head. This is a "green silk tapestry". Oh, I see.

I memorized them one by one, read many poems about spring, and said, "The sun is setting, and the flowers and plants are fragrant in the spring breeze. It's beautiful. Mud melts and swallows fly, sand warms and mandarin ducks sleep. " This poem shows us that the spring is sunny, the mountains and rivers are beautiful, and the spring breeze brings the fragrance of flowers and plants. Spring returns to the earth, the soil is soft, swallows fly around to build nests, and Yuanyang falls asleep in the warm sand. This must be a very sweet spring scene!

As follows:

There are scenes in fact, and the scenery depicted in fact is countless. Look, the leaves fall like the spray of a waterfall, while I watch the long river roll forward. What a spectacular sight, flying thousands of feet high. It is suspected that Dushan Waterfall, where the Milky Way has set for nine days, is so magnificent that the wind suddenly blows away, and the lake is like a sky, like a building in the lake, with plants all year round. This kind of scene is also praised by the poet, wet clothes, apricot flowers and rain, blowing cold willow spring.

The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely green, and the lotus flowers are reflected in the sun. In summer, vines are withered, old trees are faint, bridges are flowing, ancient roads are sparsely westerly, autumn and winter are like spring breeze, and at night, the petals of ten thousand pear trees are blown open. There is scenery in the poem, which can be said to have a different flavor. Friendship and homesickness are such sad feelings in poetry. The wind is getting wider and wider, the homesickness is getting old, the dream can't be realized, and there is no such voice in my hometown.

The rustling leaves send a cold sound, the autumn wind on the river moves the guest's feelings, and the frosty night sleeps with Jiang Feng. Although I understand the author's situation and sad mood, I can't really appreciate that kind of sad homesickness. Grandpa didn't know that he didn't shed tears until he saw the native family come all the way to visit him.