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Dreaming of Jiangnan's prose

Like a dream Jiangnan prose 1 misty rain and red dust dream, tears stained the moon hazy.

Charming and graceful, drunk and walking alone.

Yu Yan. Jiang Nanyi. Remnant dreams >

Meeting like a dream, and heaven remains our neighbourhood, knowing each other like a dream, and heaven remains our neighbourhood, I will leave my heart at the ends of the earth and cherish the beauty of life for you. -Inscription.

Hold an oil umbrella, cage a misty rain, like a dream south of the Yangtze River, leaving your footprints on the Qingshiqiao. Along the direction you walked, the flowers scattered in the wind flowed in my memory, and with a look back, I carved thousands of moving pictures of you, smiling faintly, intoxicating my dreams and warming my heart.

In the fleeting years of Su Jin, an encounter always makes me miss and look forward to it. Whenever sadness overflows the ocean of sadness, the slightest concern can always reduce loneliness and loneliness, and the frustration in prison will also be much reduced. You filled my indifference with warmth, and I retained that shallow fragrance with faint poems.

With a splash of ink, the concern in the pen falls into the misty rain, and the song in the dream is that you are singing gently. Jiangnan is like a dream, like a classical woman, dancing gracefully, intoxicating and poetic. Her smart eyes are full of tenderness, which makes me infatuated and lingering.

The breeze is flowing in the picturesque scenery with light steps. In this life, there is no love for you. When I hid my sadness in the depths of my memory, misty rain touched the past of lead China, accompanied by the whisper of dust dreams.

Falling flowers fall gracefully, and the mark of time leaves a shallow mark in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. Unconsciously, the years have deserted the color of meeting, leaving a deep affection that brings subtle charm and ripples to the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River in cool thin.

Like a dream in the south of the Yangtze River, I pour out the beauty of life for you, give you the most beautiful words, and paint gentle poems for you.

Like a dream south of the Yangtze River, I love the most beautiful encounter in my life for you, like a dream south of the Yangtze River, and I love the warmest beauty in my life for you.

Prose is like a dream in Jiangnan 2 (1) Dreams are in Jiangnan, with rain like rain and smoke like fog!

Jiangnan, like a woman who gets up in the morning, has graceful fingertips and a thin coat, but she can't hide her shy beauty!

Over the oil-paper umbrella, dripping on the river, gently fiddling with ripples, a wisp of tenderness, a thousand lovesickness! Looking out, in the distance, the eaves of the small bridge have been written for thousands of years! When the sky is blue and it is raining, will you come as scheduled?

In my last life, I was a woman from the south of the Yangtze River, dressed in purple and plain, holding a red oiled paper umbrella, so graceful that I couldn't get out of the rainy lane! The narrow stone road is filled with Song lyrics, and the smoke-filled waterway is exhausted. How much lingering did you persist?

(2) Recalling the early spring in the south of the Yangtze River, the willow trees in Jiang Nanan are green, and the wind is gentle, blowing off the branches and catkins!

Looking at the broken bridge and the snow, the love poem is pale. Who is wandering outside Leifeng Tower, and who misses you like a Zen in the tower? Bai Causeway cried. Who is pity? Is it the sentimental loneliness in Jiangnan that leads to the beautiful legend, or is it the beautiful legend that makes Jiangnan lovesick?

That year, I met a small town in the south of the Yangtze River. People walked on the bridge, water flowed down the bridge, and boats swam in the water. Jiangnan, you touched my emotions with ink and wash, without heavy makeup.

Jiangnan stood outside the world of mortals but turned to dreams. In the dream, you can't paint your clothes with all your money! Where is the dust? A penny for a penny shakes Wu Peng's boat, but it can't shake Jiangnan's feelings!

(3) Jiangnan, diving into the dream with the wind, the scenery in Jiangnan once seemed familiar, can you not remember Jiangnan?

Looking at Jiangnan from the perspective of Jiangnan, time is mottled, Jiangnan is still a thousand years old, as quiet as a shallow ink painting, with a simple outline, but it renders a rich chapter!

The small bridge in the south of the Yangtze River carries too much past. It bends into a string of moons, playing the voiceless sound of the silk and bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River and singing a lute! Jiangnan, how many tourists miss you with watery eyes? Looking back, how many passers-by turned around with your charming smile!

Some people say that falling in love with a city is because people who fall in love with it like Jiangnan, but this has nothing to do with the city and the people in it. They just want to indulge in the drunken wind in Jiangnan and don't want to wake up! There is an intoxicating smell in the mist in the south of the Yangtze River. Wu dialect combines rigidity and softness, shuttling through the Jiangnan corridor, softening one side of the soil and flattering one side of the water. The whispers of Jiangnan have softened the memory of vicissitudes!

(4) Lotus can be picked in the south of the Yangtze River, and clusters of lotus leaves are exposed, which are fragrant, thin and cool.

If, I am the purple water lily you miss under your wrist, curled up with the heart of the lotus, just waiting for an agreement of past lives and afterlife! If you don't come, how can you feel the coolness of autumn water? Shallow clear tears slide down the stems and vines, dripping into deep feelings! Lotus seed misses your heart, but you don't know lotus seed is bitter!

Heaven in a flower, see you all your life! It's very kind of you to attach water to the lotus. If you miss a season, you miss a lifetime!

I am not a woman who talks about Zen, but I am afraid I misunderstood Zen! Lotus sleeps in the water room, just waiting for you to whisper and wake up the dream of Jiangnan! Jiangnan time, dancing purple skirt, dancing the love of the whole city!

(5) Jiangnan, who gave you lush poetry and painting? Half-ditch spring flower city is misty and rainy!

Jiangnan, who lives next to you, has no chance to be a woman in your gentle water town. What a pity! In this life, let me read your face in the nearest place to you. Not bad!

There is a string of purple wind chimes hanging on the window bar in the north. After the wind blew, a message was sent to the south of the Yangtze River. If there is an afterlife, I would like to be a woman by the Slender West Lake in March. I am not as good as learning Chinese characters, but just a simple and beautiful daughter in a water town!

Jiangnan is like a dream! With waist-length hair, trying to close the distance with Jiangnan. If in the Ming Dynasty, I wandered on the stone road in the south of the Yangtze River, smiling and asking the gentleman at the railing: Has this moment of meeting also become a beautiful poem in your memory in the south of the Yangtze River?

"Dream of Jiangnan" essay 3 1 page

The past is like a dream, gently permeating the whole quiet afternoon. The golden sun shines all over the flowing water surface of Ganjiang River, the fishing boat shakes the reflection of the city, the children's smiles are innocent and clean, the holy light falls from the sky, and the sacred feast of the season is about to open. Blessed are those who pray, waiting for a year's harvest, when the seeds are ripe and heading for fertile land.

Under the green trees, who started to look up, white clouds strolled under the blue sky at the right time, those birds were flying freely, pigeons were flying in the air above the material building, the whistle attracted people with peace of mind, the clock rang, our existence was of great significance, beautiful things led us to indulge in singing, the songs in spring were full of vitality, the walking Jiangnan was picturesque, and the woman with sunshine was lovely.

Dark hair fluttered in the wind. Listen, the sound of nature resounds through the clouds, you dance and wake up the silent forest, the breeze blows through the valley, the journey of the stream is full of happiness, the green grass is covered, the unknown wild flowers are swaying, the distant villages are looming, and the wanderers look back and burst into tears.

The aura of Jiangnan is jointing in a wet rain, and the dripping sound under the eaves evokes childhood memories. The boy riding a bamboo horse has grown into a handsome boy. Gillian's gentle call is like a wind chime, expressing her dreams in the solar terms. Jiangnan years are not old, and little feet walk on smooth bluestone boards. The alley is fragrant and charming, and the afternoon of winter jasmine is unforgettable.

The time in the water lane is slow, and the old well is as silent as a wise man. Listening to the whispers in the south of the Yangtze River, the young trees are green, the days on the bud tips are refreshing, your figure is charming, everything you touch is as beautiful as ever, my eyes are fixed, the city where I live is no longer monotonous, and the abstract things are real and concrete.

two

The alley is quiet, the silk cheongsam sets off your exquisite curve, the wind under the oil-paper umbrella blows up the long black hair, and the beads on Bai Yi's wrist tremble, and time stops at this point. The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is so affectionate that it washes away the dust accumulated for many years. Your breath is like blue, and the eyes of passing teenagers are bright. Without warning, they are immersed in the deep attachment in the south of the Yangtze River, charming as you are so quiet and calm.

A person's perfect dream is no longer empty. You are really like a flower in front of you, and your heart is blooming. Life is so rich, full of past emaciation. The earth behind you need not be silent, so much joy can't be said. Waltz in spring, the dreamer is no longer lost, the green grass is woven into a furry carpet, a road leading to the holy land of heaven, facing the sky. People in high spirits look up to God and are grateful. Mother's smile washed away the servants who walked on the road of life.

Hearing your call, the voice is so charming, an impulse to sing for you, the arrival of larks, all around your aura, everything seems redundant, as long as sincere praise from the heart is good, those flowers, blooming on the sunny hillside, seem to welcome you and show a wonderful gesture.

In April, Jiangnan invited you to go with you, and the wind blew a burst of fragrance.

The sky in April takes you flying, and clouds float around Sanskrit.

The land in April is spread out for you, and the rain flies, sweet.

three

Between the flowers, a spring breeze at your fingertips swims along your body, and you can't see the horizon at the end. You came at the right time, and the distance from your heart is so beautiful. From looking up to looking down, you filled the gap left by your early years, and the branches were green and dripping, reflecting your shallow smile and spreading the touch of the hand of time.

Egret Island in the rain is becoming more and more charming, with a variety of customs on the island and loud books. Through the time tunnel, we talk to the sages. The rivers in Jiangxi are endless, and the secrets of the city are omniscient. When we come or go smoothly, the ancient banyan is flourishing, and we are used to watching the joys and sorrows in the cycle of life leave. The affair only leaves a sigh, and Gunan Tower stands tall and vicissitudes. The legend of the Three Kingdoms is nothing more than the heroic blood spilling over mountains and rivers, and the righteous songs make the gods cry and wear long clothes.

They walked on the wet land in Jiangxi, and the city became more and more crowded when they set out or returned. Wenshan pedestrian street is busy and crowded at night. I looked around in the crowd, and the familiar smell calmed my heart. Your taste will never be forgotten. The street corner stall is charming, and the smell of squid makes people drool.

A gust of wind makes Jiangnan charming. Just come back. Everything is still there.

After a rain, Jiangnan is sweet, and now I have to come back to relive my old dreams.

four

Chrysanthemum is a princess in autumn, smiling, mountains and rivers add color, those golden colors are covered with beautiful yearning homes, birds sing and flying elves are free.

The fish in Houhe River became fat, the red leaves fell, and the maple leaves began their journey home. With deep attachment, they left each other as close partners, and their hearts were happy with the charming colors of the sunset.

The water in the Ganjiang River is crystal clear, boats are moored by the river, and the knocking of the laundry man makes everything vivid. Clothes soaked in water are clean and fragrant. Life is fresh and full, children's smiles are innocent and bright, water drops are crystal clear in the sun, and your figure is beautiful and quiet.

Walking in a gust of wind in the south of the Yangtze River, I saw my little girl next door grow up, with black hair like a waterfall, charming waist, light footsteps, angel posture, endless admirers, the wind of youth blowing, and such a beautiful time.

I waited in place, waiting for sunrise and sunset in time, from one shore to the other, for the rest of my life.

Your voice is like a wind chime, shaking frames of black and white photos in the years, from front to back, never leaving.

A herd of cattle came along the path of Shixitou. They have seen all the processes of a teenager's youth, and those simple times always warm the memory of life.

Jiangnan wakes up, and our good times are back.

five

Flowers bloom in the wind, rice fields are golden in the sunset, the mountains in the distance are quiet, the fog is as thin as gauze, and the singing of birds seems to be absent.

Children play hide-and-seek on the threshing floor, the night wind blows gently, the night is as cool as water, the silver moonlight is all over the floor, music is playing, and adults are talking about this year's harvest. Thank you for another good weather and bumper harvests, hoping to make people very happy.

Your figure is charming, your eyes are soft, and you are intoxicated in the hearts of teenagers. Time is not old, it will stay in your heart forever. The season was sunny that year, and all the days were memorable.

You have been gone for so many years, only the cloud has brought your news, looking up with hope, remembering and forgetting the sadness.

I remember everything you have comforted, your bright smile, your wandering days are no longer lonely, and you are fearless in the face of strange cities. The songs you sang echoed in your heart and filled with tears of joy in a foreign land.

I came back tonight, and you were far away.

The evening breeze bursts, and I miss you again in the charming time in Jiangnan. This is a beautiful dream that will never disappear.

Like a Dream: Jiangnan Prose 4 1

The crow's long hair is natural and unrestrained in the wind. Listen, the sound of nature resounds through the clouds, and you dance on it, awakening the silent forest. The breeze blows through the valley, and the distance of the stream is full of happiness, covered with green grass, with unknown wild flowers swaying. The distant village is looming, and the wanderer thinks about it several times and tears like rain.

The aura of Jiangnan is jointing in a wet rain, and the sound of dripping under the eaves evokes childhood memories. Playing on the bamboo horse and growing into a handsome boy, Gillian gently calls like a wind chime and expresses her dreams in her spine. Jiangnan years are not old, her little feet walk on greasy bluestone boards, and the deserted alleys are charming, and the afternoon of Spring Festival is unforgettable.

The time in the water lane is slow, and the old well is as silent as a wise man. Listening to the whispers in the south of the Yangtze River, the young trees are green, the days on the bud tips are refreshing, your figure is charming, everything you touch is as beautiful as ever, my eyes are fixed, the city where I live is no longer monotonous, and the abstract things are real and concrete.

two

The cold alley is quiet, the silk cheongsam sets off your exquisite curve, the wind under the oil-paper umbrella blows the long black hair, and the beads on Bai Yan's wrist tremble, and time stops at this point. The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is so affectionate that it washes away the dust accumulated over the years. You breathe like a orchid, and the passing teenagers have bright eyes. The unexpected reunion, drunk with the deep attachment of Jiangnan, is as charming, quiet and carefree as you.

A person's perfect dream is no longer empty. You are really like a flower in front of you, and your heart is blooming. The days are so rich and full of the thinness of the past. After death, there is no need to be silent, so much joy can't be said. Waltz in spring, eager people no longer fall down, green grass is woven into a furry carpet, and a road to the promised land is in the sky. People in high spirits look up to God and are grateful. Mother's smile washed away the people on the valve.

Hearing your call, your voice is so charming, an impulse to miss song for you, the arrival of larks, a halo around you, everything seems superfluous, as long as you sincerely praise, those flowers, blooming on the hillside of the rising sun, seem to welcome you with a beautiful attitude.

The sky in April takes you flying, and clouds float around Sanskrit.

The territory of April is spread out for you, and the rain flies, sweet.

three

Between the flowers, a spring breeze at the fingertips walked along the figure, and there was no horizon at the end. At that time, you appeared, and the distance from your heart was so beautiful. From looking up to looking down, you make up for the gap left in your early years, and the branches are raining, reflecting your shallow smile and spreading the touch of the hand of time.

In April, Jiangnan invited you to go with you, and the wind blew through the fragrant nose.

The smoky past is like a dream, overflowing gently in all quiet afternoons. The golden sun shines all over the flowing water surface of Ganjiang River, the fishing boats sway the reflection of the city, the children's smiles are innocent and clean, the holy light falls from the sky, and the seasonal feast is about to begin. Blessed are those who pray, waiting for a year's harvest, the seeds will mature and go to fertile land.

A gust of wind in the south of the Yangtze River is charming. Come back anytime. Everything is still there.

Egret Island in the rain is doubly charming, with small island style and clear book sound. When crossing, it talks with sages in an open tunnel. The Ganjiang River keeps rolling, and the secrets of the city are omniscient. Come or go smoothly, and the ancient banyan is flourishing. I am used to seeing the joys and sorrows in the cycle of life, leaving only a sigh in the romantic story. Gunan Tower stands in the vicissitudes of life. The legend of the Three Kingdoms is just heroic blood sprinkled on the mountains and rivers, and a just song that shook the world.

The wind is blowing flowers, the rice fields are golden in the sunset, the mountains in the distance are quiet, the fog is as thin as gauze, and the singing of birds seems to be absent.

They walked on the moist construction site in Jiangxi, moist and moist. When they set off or returned, the city became more and more full, and Wenshan Pedestrian Street was warm and crowded at night. I saw it in the crowd, and the familiar smell calmed my heart. Your taste will never be forgotten. The street corner stall is charming, and the smell of squid makes people drool.

Jiangnan is sweet in a rain, and now you will come back to relive the old dreams.

Chrysanthemum is the princess in autumn. A smile adds color to the mountains and rivers. Those golden colors lead to a beautiful and yearning home. Birds sing and flying spirits are free and carefree.

The fish in Houhe River became fat, the red leaves fell, and the maple leaves began their journey home. With deep attachment, they bid farewell to their close partners and were happy with the charming colors of the sunset.

The water in the Ganjiang River is crystal clear, boats are moored by the river, and the knocking of the laundry man makes everything lively. My clothes are soaked in water, and my life is fresh and full. The children's smiles are innocent and cruel, and the water drops are crystal clear in the sun. Your figure is extremely beautiful and quiet.

Walking in a gust of wind in the south of the Yangtze River, I saw my little girl next door grow up, with waterfall-like black hair, charming waist, light footsteps, angelic posture, endless admirers, youthful demeanor and good times.

Prose is like a dream in the south of the Yangtze River. In the misty rain, Jiangnan is saturated with pen and ink.

It is a poem in the poet's emotion and a palette in the painter's eyes.

The twisted oil-paper umbrella of the soul, the knock of footsteps, the slate pieced together by time,

Charming and elegant, in the misty red dust and rain lane,

How much sadness and gloom are hidden under the lonely oil-paper umbrella,

The falling petals wet the hair and clothes.

Swallow the rain like ink and paint a beautiful picture.

With flat footprints, send a poem waiting for you and sing a motto of never giving up.

Miss a lake with tears, turn the lake into an inkstone, and spend all the flowers in the south of the Yangtze River.

The pulse contains light sorrow, looking up at the sky, wandering in the leisurely.

In the lonely rain lane,

Do you look for love like cloves like Dai Wangshu?

Do you hold me day and night with Dai Wangshu's feelings?

In this thin years, I still use the most beautiful posture, waiting for your appearance,

No matter how hard it is, will you come to Jiangnan with a sincere heart?

I would like to turn into a 500-year-old stone bridge just to see you.

Hold you gently in my arms, bury your figure in the rainy lane, and bury your love in the rainy south of the Yangtze River.

If you want to go, please take an oil-paper umbrella. She is me, always with you.

There is no contact in this life, and I hope to continue to love in the next life. I still smile with tears and look at you from afar. ......

In the misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River, I am the one in full bloom in the deep rain lane, like a poem and a dream of an oiled paper umbrella.