Modern poetry describing Jiangnan

1. Modern poems about Jiangnan

Modern poems about Jiangnan 1. Modern poems about "Jiangnan"

[Share] Selected from "Jiangnan" Wen Ruian's collection of poems "Shanhe Lu" The Ancient Dancer... How long will it take for the lightness and joy to come before the stormy old friend comes one day in this life and another in another life? You wait or shall I wait? I have countless chivalrous feelings that all live in the sound of a ruffle of clothes. Reciting poetry is martial arts, candlelight is dancing photos, sleeplessness is the young swordsman's miss you, the gesture is light, beautiful and uninhabited. My appreciation is that ancient The folding fan touches the landscape and paints a few blank strokes. The ancient dancer... light and happy. The modern dancer... carefree and happy. Who looks at you with sad eyes. I am like the Mongolian warrior Juechen who shoots eagles. And go... Dayan is still Khitan, even the beggars in the capital are burning for a dragon flag. Thousand-faced scrolls are dancing on the snow in the sky. Dancer, do you want to leave me with lifelong admiration or follow me? And go? My future is full of unknowns, struggles and struggles, but I will surely lose myself at some point every day, and I will only miss you, the ancient dancer... When your lost fingertips are lost in thought and you dance for yourself, you can Do you know how many eyes of love are outside the window? Do you know how many first love stars there are in the sky? As natural as green, as petite as red, you are a touch of nature, as if white has been wiped across. When you laugh and bend your waist, you are pitiful and charming, just like the moon on my right. A romantic man knows that falling flowers are more charming. You are Love to laugh, you should know that the breeze will treat you as if you are timidly looking back, fearing that a single gaze will alarm all the young people in Wuling.

It can be seen that the scholar from Jiangnan rolled his clothes, polished his ink, and crossed many lotus ponds to find you? How many silent fights have blocked the road, how much beauty is needed to make up for how many abrupt histories have been completed. You cast your pitiful eyes on me among thousands of people. Only you know that I am looking at you, and only this pair of focus is appreciate. I alone know that you are looking at me.

Everyone in the south of the Yangtze River is laughing at a surprise... Ancient warrior, you have been practicing for ten years, and you have been reading for ten years. It is the most speechless love. If a girl has ten fingers like ten phoenixes and a beautiful pair of And what is the most beautiful thing about a girl if not her caring eyes? The ancient dancer... loves to laugh but is sad, and youth only comes once. The three of them met for the first time in the river pond where they met on the short waterway in the south of the Yangtze River. They walked together without knowing who the master was. It is the south of the Yangtze River that has so much sympathy and love, so many flowers and water, so many willows, so many bridges, so many embankments and so many banks, and so many soft and strong voices. It is the south of the Yangtze River that is thousands of miles away in this little spring. The south of the Yangtze River that the talented people from the south of the Yangtze River cannot cross. I can't forget the ancient dancers from the south of the Yangtze River...how sad the most beautiful and perfect girl is often a painful knife carving our hearts that are easy to be frightened and happy. Every move is a kind of grace, a thousand moves are a thousand kinds of grace. What's involved? What about fibrillation? When you move, you are like a peach and plum, and when you wave, you are a lamp on the water. How dare I imagine you when you are old? When you are old, I will give you a poem, because a girl can only be a girl once, and so can a boy. When you pushed up the show curtain, that smiling fish tail was gentle but not prancing. You seemed angry and happy, close and distant, angry and forgiving. I got on my horse and drove away.

When you are moving, do you know how much more you have missed? The sound of your silver zither is still playing among the flowers under the moonlight at the fifth watch. It has not yet sounded or it has not dispersed. Or has no one noticed it at all? I hope people smile, and you are the one who smiles. I hope people love you, and you are the one who pampers you. Who are you in the mountains and rivers? Pavilions, pavilions, where do you live? Mountains are connected to mountains, rivers are connected to water, rivers and lakes are connected to rivers and lakes, jasper and small homes, the stream flows slowly into the wind and sand, I will see you when I am old, like before the dynamite, the building is still behind the dynamite, the dust has settled, the building is extinct, and I recall those happy times, You are so charming and charming, but the mountains and rivers have become poorer and the mountains have stopped. Xiangyang and I are both old. When I see you again, I wonder if you are friends and if we are close friends and confidants that you don’t know. It is said that we were still wrong and did not recognize each other. He bowed his head and passed by without seeing us, and there was no news... The ancient dancers... Those songs about loving beauty and beauty sounded again. Remember when I was young, I loved chatting and you loved laughing... Nowadays, on Jiangnan Road, the sunset is getting longer and fewer people are walking on it. .

Is there anyone who occasionally stops to look up at the passing clouds and asks: This is the past, with many flowers and shades, many heroes, many heroes, the great cause of national restoration, thousands of mountains and rivers, the Jiangnan of the past? The rain is falling non-stop... Jiangnan is a silent ancient book. Even if I miss Jiangnan, it's time to be unable to extricate myself... Drafted in 1975.

2. Modern poetry describing the south of the Yangtze River

Love in the South of the Yangtze River Author: Xiao Muyu

In March, when the orioles fly in the south of the Yangtze River and the grass grows, who taps on the screen window in a dream

The ten-mile long pavilion in the smoke, the rainy alley, and the empty space are a bit of charming melancholy

The lonely crickets sound, the lonely fragrance, who is playing sadness in the deserted corner

Bursts of resentful flutes The desolate melancholy unintentionally soaked in the wind has soared, affecting the sadness of thousands of years of loneliness

The tenderness is dark, the fragrance of lilacs, the longing, the light light of tears is hidden

The love unintentionally falls into the dust. My beauty meets you in this misty rainy season

I have a little resonance with you in my heart, but why do I only hesitate silently in front of you

Put aside the loss in the dream and wipe away the sadness in my heart Shen Jian

Recovering the memories of the past life that were stranded in the wind, in this soft breeze and drizzle that is inseparable -

Jiangnan Xiaolou Listening to the Rain at Night Author: Cui Changping

On a lightly drizzled spring night, the sound of music is faintly heard in the quiet alleys of Jiangnan

Like a wisp of light smoke drifting in the dimly lit water town -

The unconcealable thoughts hold on for a while Standing with an oil-paper umbrella, on the arch bridge in March

Listen to the gentle sound of pulp - slowly passing through the eyes

The moonlight window hidden by the bamboo fence fills a gap -

p>

There is a suspended dragonfly on your jade head, the beautiful figure wearing a jingling ring

Just like the misty rain shaking the mulberry buds, I deeply understand——

Reliance The mood of counting flowers by the window

The plum tree in front of the courtyard has clear footsteps

The early summer when we come together has become a lifelong longing for you

, when the window is opened, the smoke drips in the green, and there will be orioles singing

The memories of the plum rain dripping on the lotus pond are intertwined one after another

There will always be left, shallow Image

I came along the Grand Canal where ice blocks float to look for——

The night that stops by your side doesn’t want melancholy to disturb the night rain

Familiarity Breathing can bring back - the years of grinding together

I hope the rain will stop tomorrow. I want to listen to the bluestone alley in early spring again -

Selling flowers like red apricots Sound

3. Modern poetry describing the south of the Yangtze River

Love in the South of the Yangtze River Author: Xiao Muyu In March, the orioles fly in the south of the Yangtze River and the grass grows. Who is tapping the screen window in the dream? Ten miles long pavilion, smokey building, rain alley, how empty is it? Charming, desolate, lonely, fragrant, lonely, who is playing the mournful flute in the empty corner, bursts of sadness and sorrow unintentionally soaked in the wind, affecting thousands of years of loneliness, sadness, tenderness, dark knot, the delicate fragrance of lilacs, and longing. The light love of tears unintentionally bounces off the dust-covered beauty to meet you. In this misty and misty rainy season, I have a little connection with you in my heart, but why am I only hesitating silently in front of me? Let go of the loss in the dream, wipe away the heavy sickness in my heart, and regain the stranded wind. The memory of the past life in this inseparable gentle breeze and drizzle - Jiangnan Xiaolou Night Listening to the Rain Author: Cui Changping The gentle drizzle weaves the quiet spring night in the Jiangnan alleys, and the music is faintly like a wisp of smoke in the dimly lit water town Floating - the unconcealable thoughts stand with an oil-paper umbrella, listening to the gentle sound of oars on the arch bridge in March - the moonlight window shaded by the bamboo fence slowly passes across the eye - the beautiful shadow of you with jingling rings There is a suspended dragonfly on the head of the jade scratcher, just like the misty rain shaking the mulberry buds. I deeply understand - the mood of leaning against the window and counting flowers. The plum tree in front of the courtyard has clear footsteps, and the early summer of gathering has become I have longed for you all my life. When I open the window, the smoke will flow into the greenery. There will be orioles singing. The plum rain will fall on the lotus pond. The memories of the interweaving links will always remain. The shallow image of me floating along the Grand Canal on the ice. I don’t want to let my sorrow stop at your side at night, and the familiar breathing can bring back the night rain. I hope the rain will stop tomorrow. I want to listen to the bluestone alley in early spring again. The sound of selling flowers is like an apricot.

4. Modern poetry describing the scenery of Jiangnan

Whispering Jiangnan Author: Liao Yongzhi

1.

Waiting for those small swallows Flying from the south

Watching the rainwater flowing down the eaves in the spring of April

Watching a child sleeping against the dusk in the misty Jiangnan

At that time, I took an umbrella from the West Lake and took a ferry with you to the south

and then drifted eastward

In my dream, the far north made you no longer envious of the south of the Yangtze River

2.

Look at the graceful figure of the cloaked girl from the south of the Yangtze River falling into a dream

I will look for you one by one in the boat on the Yanbo River by the rivers and lakes

The master who came second in the top pick

Those girls and women painted their eyebrows in the turmoil of the Ming and Qing Dynasties

Wearing the silk of Jinguan City, they were lightly sad

( This is that -

Bai Juyi's Jiangnan, the Jiangnan whose scenery I have always known

Su Dongpo's Jiangnan, the Jiangnan that has been exhausted after chanting the great river eastward

Li Qingzhao’s Jiangnan, the miserable Jiangnan when it was warm but still cold)

It was the Jiangnan of those many years ago

From south to north, from north to south, it was blown by the wind for a year The year blows

The Jiangnan that blows coldly

is shamelessly trampled by the footsteps of aliens

Many people died innocently in the war

It is the charming and desolate Jiangnan that the soldiers who left their hometowns fought against

(It is--

The Jiangnan of the past is the Jiangnan that haunts me in my dreams. The Jiangnan of the present

Rebuilding after pain, blood and tears

In Jiangnan, where my fathers fell in love, farmed, hoped and raised me up

It is a land and people that are forever entwined, The nurturing and evergreen Jiangnan)

3.

Jiangnan

Returning on a thin leaf

Holding the fallen flower in its mouth The children return

Returning with a piece of scarlet in the black earth

It is the return of those wanderers in the hometown with tears streaming down their cheeks

(If, you are willing

I will take you to see the scenery of Jiangnan)

4.

Jiangnan in January

I hold your hand in the cold The embankment listened to the subtle chirping of the earth

In February, the willows in the fields beside the stream began to wake up

In March, they began to put on makeup and go to the tailor shop to get a suitable dress. Clothes

In April, they wore beautiful clothes and were affectionate

To seduce the young men and boys who were beginning to grow up

And those birds and frogs , flowers, and grass are also noisy

Wait until May

What kind of vibrant Jiangnan will it be, full of singing and dancing birds?

And in June Children never want to go to bed early or get up late

Their figures pass from one village to another

From one field to another

( Sometimes I would herd cattle on the mountainside and sit in a fishing boat

Holding my beloved pink girl’s delicate body and bones, listening to all kinds of natural sounds

Playing a flute and playing a tune Qin

Look at Xu Xian and White Snake walking past me affectionately)

Wait until July, the crops in the fields are ripe

Pick up a handful of rice ears , watch the white geese and teal ducks singing to the sky in the creek

Men, men drinking white wine

Calling for their wives and children at the dinner table at dusk

It was a family enjoying themselves after a tiring day

And the figure of the mother-in-law in August and September shuttled through the fields and pastures

The grain farm and In the market, at night, as usual

Lying tenderly in the arms of my man

5. Modern poems about Jiangnan water towns

Jiangnan, In the painter's pen, the watercolor painting is still beautiful, clear and watery. The old cow returning at dusk on the street, the shepherd boy playing the flute on the cow's back...

Is the Jiangnan in front of me a poem? Is it a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? The small bridges and flowing water are your gentleness, and the highways and roads are your character.

Broad roads divide the south of the Yangtze River into a huge grid book - a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.

The straight roads are like infinitely extended staffs, and the various vehicles are like jumping notes, playing a celebratory song. Joy flows, passion rolls, singing is red, prosperity is expressed...

Jiangnan's song - pastoral song plus disco!

Looking forward to snow

The feeling of looking forward to snow is the feeling of looking forward to you.

There is less snow in the south. On cloudy days, who stands as a tree on a high hill, waiting alone for the colors of winter.

The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is rejected by the lintel of the season. Every thin

frost is always read as the tiny silhouette of your dream.

The snow still has not fallen, and my heart is as empty as the whine of a bird.

The desolate look of a tree with all its leaves makes it lonely and ownerless throughout the season.

Snow falls in the south of the Yangtze River

Like a flock of panicked birds, their white feathers fall in the wind.

My heart flutters in the wilderness, unable to utter a single moan.

Snow falls in Jiangnan. Many unforgettable pains do not come from the cold. When your eyes tower into a glacier, the swirling thoughts block all retreats.

It is the bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring floods that quietly turn green.

The snowflakes melt and resemble my tears.

Beautiful songs float in the snow

Beautiful songs float in the snow, these wonderful notes come from the distant world

Heaven fills the seasons overnight of the tips.

All things silently play the symphony of the earth, singing in unison for the coming spring.

The germs under the snow are surging with spring tide.

I am not an audience member in front of the stage. My soul joins the ranks of dancing and singing, and it will never end.

Watch the children playing in the snow

At this moment, the earth is like a kind mother. Love stretches wider than the seasons,

Let the children's footprints freely write the happiness and joy of childhood on the snow.

Build a snowman. Throw snowballs. Have a snowball fight. The children's pure eyes and laughter smooth out the wrinkles in the soul.

A snowman piled high caught my attention, and I suddenly felt that the snowman was myself.

It quickly melted into the children's sunny world.

The falling snow is silent

The falling snow is silent.

A group of children playing in the snow woke up from their deep sleep, and the snow light illuminated the morning.

Is it the freedom and joy that fills the sky and makes the earth tremble slightly? Or is it my heart,

longing to fly as freely as snow.

I saw the earth holding out a holy heart, and it still seemed extremely calm in the face of the cheering children.

Walking into the snow

When I walk into the snow, I become older or younger.

If I am getting older, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes igniting the flames of fairy tales.

If I am getting younger, why are my temples turning gray?

My thoughts are as colorful as fallen flowers.

6. A modern poem about Jiangnan

"Jiangnan Grass" Li Ji

Autumn when chrysanthemums are in full bloom,

My first Once I came to Jiangnan.

Although I came in a hurry and left in a hurry,

But your beauty exceeds my imagination a thousand times.

Looking at your city with beautiful flowers,

The most beautiful pictures have lost their color;

Strolling in the beautiful water town,

Even the eternal chants that have been passed down through the ages seem pale.

Your beauty makes me feel ashamed:

There is no word in my vocabulary to describe you.

People say: "There is heaven above, and Suzhou and Hangzhou below."

Paradise is just a fantasy that people weave in your image.

I know that autumn cannot reveal your magic and beauty.

What I see is just a piece of grass among your thousands of flowers.

But, I am going back,

I am going back with this blade of grass.

I want to take this blade of grass to the desert,

I want to bring this blade of grass back to my hometown.

I will plant it in the Gobi Desert,

I will also say this to my fellow villagers:

"Water it with our sweat Let’s,

Let our Great Gobi become like Jiangnan! ”

Dai Wangshu’s Rain Alley is quite classic

7. Modern with Jiangnan charm! You can still choose the poem and style: ancient, beautiful, desolate

"Rain Alley"

Author: Dai Wangshu

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone

Wandering in the long, long

And lonely rainy alley

I hope to meet

like a lilac

The sad girl

She has

the same color as lilac

the same fragrance as lilac

the same sadness as lilac

Complaining in the rain

Complaining and hesitant

She is wandering in this lonely rain alley

Holding an oil-paper umbrella

Like me

Like me

Walking silently

Cold, desolate, and melancholy

She approached silently

Approaching, and casting

breath-like eyes

She floated by

like a dream

< p> As sad and confused as a dream

As if floating in a dream

A branch of lilac

This girl floated beside me

She silently went far, far away

Arriving at the crumbling fence

Walking through the rain alley

In the lament of the rain

Dissipated her color

Dissipated her fragrance

Dissipated, even her eyes

breathless

< p> Lilac-like melancholy

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone

Wandering in the long, long and lonely rain alley

I hope to float over

Like a lilac

A girl with sorrow and resentment

8. Modern poetry describing Jiangnan

Jiangnan Ting Xue (Male) Rain started falling at dusk.

The drizzle is like smoke, like catkins, whispering softly. Brushing through the grass and scratching the petals.

At the end of the faint fragrance, there is a gurgling sound. (Female) A few cold rains shattered all the flowers on the ground.

As the geese pass by, I listen to your flute playing, and the dusk becomes a sad and beautiful flute sound in an instant. (Male) I don’t know since when, Jiangnan has become a complex in my heart.

Looking at the formation of wild geese heading south, I felt heartbroken. Your laughter sounded, very slight, very ethereal.

(Female) I like winter because I like snow. But in the winter in the south, it is rare to see snow falling all over the sky.

Occasionally, a few pieces of flying snow fall, like a shy girl, who has no time to freeze in the memory and hurries away. (Male) I know you like snow, because it is your name, my Snow White.

(Female) Looking from a distance, the hazy sky seems to hide too much helplessness and sadness. I breathed a mist on the light blue glass window, and drew a six-petal snowflake on it with my slender fingers, which instantly melted into tears.

(Male) Your distant gaze condenses into a cold moon, always hanging in the sky above the Northland. Throughout the winter, I hope to fly south like a bird and fly to your city.

(Female) Waiting for snow is like waiting for a thousand-year promise. So, I'm trying hard to imagine what it's like in winter there.

(Male) I always want to call your name, but when I call it out softly, too many sobs pass between my eyebrows. Missing the humidity becomes the flowers on the eaves. After they wither, they condense into frost.

(Female) The unruly wind was slightly chilly, and the frost and dew wetted my skirt and my eyes. In the wind, there may be a flower message from you.

(Male) Yes, snowflakes bloom lightly and elegantly one after another, pure white and hazy white. In the breeze, the strong earthy smell is accompanied by the faint fragrance of grass roots and tree buds.

(Female)'s joyful voice broke the long silence and slipped past my ears, carrying a wisp of plum blossom fragrance. Has it snowed there yet? (Male) Yes, it’s snowing! In the early wind, my lonely footsteps walked on the snowy field, tracing out lines of lingering lovesickness.

Dear, can you hear the sound of snow falling? (Female) My dear, I hear it, the snowflakes are flapping their wings in their most original color. I like to hear the rustling sound under your feet as you step on the snow. (Male) Opened his arms, I danced in the snow in a rotating posture.

I vaguely held your hand again. (Female) The snow from Saibei hanging on the wall passed over the rivers and mountains, and fell in large tracts, making my world a holy place.

(Male) In this colorful ceremony, I want to fall down with the wind, lie in your dancing skirt, and listen to the blooming of winter plums. (Female) I know you want to grab a handful of ice and snow and let me feel the charm of winter.

But the cold frost hit my heart. Don't just stand there stupidly, I've lit a fire for you in the house.

(Male) Oh, haven’t you been looking forward to snow in Jiangnan? I want you to hear snow. My dear, do you know that although the winter in Saibei is cold, my heart is warmed by you.

(Female) Oh, my dear, you know, the rows of birch trees also fascinate me. I want to get drunk with you in that snowy mountain forest, letting my body and mind transcend the world and merge into the earth for a moment.

(Male) Let the snowflakes fall on your shoulders and let yourself become a white sculpture in the snow, so you have a fairy tale-like mood in your heart. (Female) Holding my breath, I heard the singing rushing under the ice, like a lyrical poem. I knew that it was the fairy tale you planted.

(Male) My dear, I want to take you to the ice lake to listen to the sounds of nature. There are many unspeakable secrets hidden there. (Female) My heart has escaped from my cold body and is flying towards the intersection of dreams.

My dear, you can see the train of my skirt flying in the snow. (Male) raised his head, and the snowflakes slid across his cheeks one by one, just like your delicate hands gently sliding over them. Every snowflake is you, my Snow White! (Female) Can you hear the sigh of the dead leaves passing by the street corner in the rustling wind? That's because, outside of fairy tales, I am not a princess, and you cannot be my prince.

(Male) Dear, come close to me, and my arms can be bent into angel wings, guarding the winter fairy tale. (Female) But the cold wind always blows away all the worries, just like this uncontrollable snowflake.

(Male) My dear, let’s walk along the euphemistic Jiangnan. The footprints stretching towards the dawn are our fairy tales! (Female) Yes, dear, I have been waiting in the moonlight for a thousand years for a beautiful legend! (Male) My dear, because of waiting, another beautiful legend has been added to the night sky. (Female) Listened carefully, the boiling snowflakes and all the poems related to love were quietly blooming.

(Male) My dear, have you ever known that those scattered lines of poetry are all caused by you, the ebb and flow of which gently harmonize with the songs of the seasons. Morning and evening.

(Female) Ah, the crystal snowflakes fell on the face, and instantly turned into water droplets, leaving a piece of heart music wherever they flowed. It was the echo of the spring tide. (Male) The blooming flower buds are knocking on the window lattice of spring. Each flower is so proudly smiling, which is the strength accumulated over the winter.

(Female) In a trance, a figure like scissors cut out lines of love. There are no more tears in the falling red.

(Male) Dear, the snow is still flying. I will cover your eyes quietly from behind, and let your heart carefully appreciate paintings and recite poems until dawn.

(Female) You said the snow is still flying? I want to find a long-lost paintbrush, copy this gracefulness, and hang it in my sky. (Male) My dear, put your hand in my palm and write our fairy tale together.

There is a snow-white Jiangnan in fairy tales.

(Female) Yes, I will put my hand in your palm and write our fairy tale together.

It turns out that the snow-white Jiangnan is in the palm of your hand. (Male) Dear, I believe we will be like a fairy tale, where happiness and joy are the ending.

(Female) Dear, we live happily, just like in fairy tales.

9. Modern poems about the water towns in the south of the Yangtze River

The south of the Yangtze River, in the painter's pen, is still the same beautiful, clear and watery watercolor painting.

The old cow returning at dusk on the street, the shepherd boy playing the flute on the cow's back... Is the Jiangnan in front of me poetry? Is it a painting? Is it the lady in the boudoir? Is it Xiaojiabiyu? The small bridges and flowing water are your gentleness, and the highways and roads are your character. Broad roads divide the south of the Yangtze River into a huge grid book - a masterpiece carefully written by farmers.

The straight roads are like infinitely extended staffs, and the various vehicles are like jumping notes, playing a celebratory song. Joy flows, passion rolls, singing is red, and prosperity is expressed... The song of Jiangnan - pastoral song plus disco! The feeling of looking forward to snow is the feeling of looking forward to you.

There is little snow in the south. On cloudy days, who stands as a tree on a high hill, waiting alone for the colorful winter.

The wind spreads beautiful lies in the cold rain, and the snow is rejected by the lintel of the season. Every thin layer of frost always reads as the fragmentary silhouette of your dream.

The snow still has not fallen, and my heart is as empty as the whine of a bird. A tree with all its leaves, its desolate look, makes the whole season lonely and ownerless.

Snow falls in the south of the Yangtze River, like a flock of panicked birds, their white feathers falling in the wind, their hearts fluttering in the wilderness, unable to utter a single moan. Snow falls in Jiangnan.

Many unforgettable pains do not come from the cold. When your eyes are like a glacier, your thoughts are flying and blocking all retreats. It is the bird that flies south and returns to the north, bringing me the spring floods that quietly turn green, and the snowflakes become like my tears after melting.

Beautiful songs floated in the snow. Beautiful songs floated in the snow. These wonderful notes came from the distant heaven and fell on the branches of the season overnight. All things silently play the symphony of the earth, singing in unison for the coming spring.

The germs under the snow are surging with spring tide. I am not an audience member in front of the stage.

My soul joins the ranks of dancing and singing, and they will never end. Watch the children playing in the snow. At this moment, the earth is like a kind mother.

Love stretches wider than the seasons, letting the children's footprints freely write the happiness and joy of childhood on the snow. Build a snowman.

Throw snowballs. Have a snowball fight.

The children’s pure eyes and laughter smooth out the wrinkles in the soul. A snowman piled high caught my attention. I suddenly felt that the snowman was myself, and he quickly melted into the children's sunny world.

The falling snow makes no sound. The falling snow makes no sound. A group of children playing in the snow woke up from their deep sleep, and the light of snow brightened the morning.

Is it the freedom and joy that fills the sky and makes the earth tremble slightly, or is it my heart that longs to fly as freely as snow. I saw the earth holding out a holy heart, and still seemed extremely calm in the face of the cheering children.

Walking into the snow. Walking into the snow, I become older or younger. If it is getting old, why is my heart as light as snow and my eyes igniting the flames of fairy tales.

If I am getting younger, why are my temples gray and my thoughts are as colorful as fallen flowers.