There are poems about summer, modern poems 1. Modern poetry describing summer
A dog's day night
toss and turn restlessly
Sleepy but sleepless
A dog's day night
Suppress the people like monsters
Looking for the wind in every corner
The big cattail leaf fan shakes its arm and hurts.
The electric fan turned dizzy.
The air conditioner is buzzing and making a lot of noise.
The heart can hear the sound of wild grass growing.
You can hear insects singing at the root of the wall, and you can hear everything in nature.
In fact, they were driven away by the sound of evolution.
Leaving only the moonlight to smile faintly.
Summer wind
Get up early in the morning and wait for you.
Sleeping late at night is also to wait for you.
You are the dream girl I am waiting for.
Always land in a dream or wake up in the morning.
It's like waiting all my life.
But this is the moment of meeting.
Your touch slowly passed over my body, making me crazy.
Your coolness slowly moistens my skin and makes me intoxicated.
All the passions are eager to turn into ice in your kiss.
Without you, my anxious heart can't be calm.
You can hear the sound of wild grass growing.
You can hear insects singing at the root of the wall, and you can hear everything in nature.
In fact, they were driven away by the sound of evolution.
Leaving only the moonlight to smile faintly.
Lost summer
Summer fog
No detention area was found.
Attack the place where it is easiest to go deep.
The morning sun becomes hairy.
Its desire is brilliant and expansive.
Expand into a dazzling barrier
Reflected into uneasy white light.
The temptation of summer
Like the petals of corn poppy, like the texture of silk.
If you don't take care of it, it's not properly maintained.
Only a few days of gorgeous flowering.
I'm afraid people don't want to avoid it.
A man of spirit
I took a detour in an alley where moonlight couldn't get in.
Standing at the entrance of summer
It was a wind that swept across the water.
On the green lake
There is always a graceful figure.
There is always a clear rhyme and a faint fragrance that comes with the wind.
When the boat passes, the lotus moves.
Open those ancient and modern classics.
I savored it carefully and quietly.
Pay attention to the shyness swaying in the wind.
That pure white powder has a light blush.
Like the sky after rain, rainbow
Appear. And the sound of frogs.
And the glittering and translucent rocks on those broad leaves.
In summer, there is always a unique scenery.
There is always a feeling of infinite attachment!
farewell to summer
farewell to summer
Give your heart to autumn in summer.
Turn her into fruit
All the memories
It's all in there.
Autumn makes summer drunk.
Turn green into purple.
There is still a pool of autumn water.
But be quiet
For example, a girl of 18 years old
Pure and clear eyes
The lost dragonfly
Delicate flowers.
And the lingering love that summer.
Are concentrated in the seeds.
Waiting for the next summer
This summer
This summer
no longer
There is no night.
London sun
The moon accompanying Beijing
Watch the battle side by side.
Stadio Olimpico
Like a fierce battlefield
Smoke billowed.
Master of physical education
we
Cheer for you.
this evening
We didn't sleep.
Only hope.
Summer of filariasis
Filariasis in July
The city was destroyed by the heat wave.
A corner of sultry streets and alleys
A girl in a blue skirt.
seek
A touch of green
In the suburbs.
On the burning leaves.
A shepherd boy
Driving a flock of sheep like white clouds
Can't run far
A cool river
Summer morning
early in the morning
Cicadas blow their horns.
heat wave
Start pouring in
A still tree
Transpiration empties the mind.
Because I
The distant scenery is separated by windows.
Put it further away.
2. Modern poems describing summer.
After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock.
The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors. "Xiaochi" [Song] Yang Wanli's eyes are silent and cherish the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves to be fine and soft. The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head.
"Drunken Book on Looking at the Lake Building on June 27th" [Song] Su Shi's dark clouds do not cover the mountains, and the white rain jumps over the boat. Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle.
"[Tang] Jia Jian" Jiangnan Ji ",Ci bamboo shoots and other editors. Qi is a castle and frog is an orchestra.
Summer in the mountain pavilion [Tang] The tall trees are dark green, the summer is long, and the balcony reflects into the pool. The crystal curtains are moving, the breeze is blowing, and the whole frame is fragrant.
"About" [Song] It rains at home in Huangmei season in Zhao Shixiu, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond. It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp.
"Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous" [Song] Fan Chengda plums are golden and apricot fat, and wheat and white cauliflower are thin. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying.
"Xiaoyao Sunny" [Song] In Fan Chengda, plums are ripe in the window, and bamboo shoots come out of the forest under the wall. I don't even know if the rain will go in spring, but it will get deeper when it clears up in summer.
In summer, I was thinking about Xin [Tang] Meng Haoran and the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west in Nanting, and the moon rose from the lake. Hang your hair in the shade at night, open the window and lie down in a quiet and spacious place.
The evening breeze sent waves of lotus fragrance, and the dew on the bamboo leaves made a crisp sound. "Early Summer" [Song] Sima Guang In April, it was clear and rainy, and every household in Nanshan was clear.
There are no catkins in the wind, only sunflowers open to the sun. "Memories of the King" [Song] Hunting a small pond, lotus flowers filled the courtyard after the rain.
The magic pumpkin is cold in ice and snow. Bamboo square bed, needlework is unintentional, and dreams are long in the afternoon.
After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock. The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors. "Xiaochi" [Song] Yang Wanli's eyes are silent and cherish the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves to be fine and soft.
The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head. "Drunken Book on Looking at the Lake Building on June 27th" [Song] Su Shi's dark clouds do not cover the mountains, and the white rain jumps over the boat.
Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle. "[Tang] Jia Jian" Jiangnan Ji ",Ci bamboo shoots and other editors.
Qi is a castle and frog is an orchestra. Summer in the mountain pavilion [Tang] The tall trees are dark green, the summer is long, and the balcony reflects into the pool.
The crystal curtains are moving, the breeze is blowing, and the whole frame is fragrant. "About" [Song] It rains at home in Huangmei season in Zhao Shixiu, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond.
It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp. "Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous" [Song] Fan Chengda plums are golden and apricot fat, and wheat and white cauliflower are thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. "Xiaoyao Sunny" [Song] In Fan Chengda, plums are ripe in the window, and bamboo shoots come out of the forest under the wall.
I don't even know if the rain will go in spring, but it will get deeper when it clears up in summer. In summer, I was thinking about Xin [Tang] Meng Haoran and the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west in Nanting, and the moon rose from the lake.
Hang your hair in the shade at night, open the window and lie down in a quiet and spacious place. The evening breeze sent waves of lotus fragrance, and the dew on the bamboo leaves made a crisp sound.
"Early Summer" [Song] Sima Guang In April, it was clear and rainy, and every household in Nanshan was clear. There are no catkins in the wind, only sunflowers open to the sun.
"Memories of the King" [Song] Hunting a small pond, lotus flowers filled the courtyard after the rain. The magic pumpkin is cold in ice and snow.
Bamboo square bed, needlework is unintentional, and dreams are long in the afternoon. After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock.
The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors. "Xiaochi" [Song] Yang Wanli's eyes are silent and cherish the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves to be fine and soft. The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head.
"Drunken Book on Looking at the Lake Building on June 27th" [Song] Su Shi's dark clouds do not cover the mountains, and the white rain jumps over the boat. Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle.
"[Tang] Jia Jian" Jiangnan Ji ",Ci bamboo shoots and other editors. Qi is a castle and frog is an orchestra.
Summer in the mountain pavilion [Tang] The tall trees are dark green, the summer is long, and the balcony reflects into the pool. The crystal curtains are moving, the breeze is blowing, and the whole frame is fragrant.
"About" [Song] It rains at home in Huangmei season in Zhao Shixiu, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond. It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp.
"Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous" [Song] Fan Chengda plums are golden and apricot fat, and wheat and white cauliflower are thin. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying.
"Xiaoyao Sunny" [Song] In Fan Chengda, plums are ripe in the window, and bamboo shoots come out of the forest under the wall. I don't even know if the rain will go in spring, but it will get deeper when it clears up in summer.
In summer, I was thinking about Xin [Tang] Meng Haoran and the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west in Nanting, and the moon rose from the lake. Hang your hair in the shade at night, open the window and lie down in a quiet and spacious place.
The evening breeze sent waves of lotus fragrance, and the dew on the bamboo leaves made a crisp sound. "Early Summer" [Song] Sima Guang In April, it was clear and rainy, and every household in Nanshan was clear.
There are no catkins in the wind, only sunflowers open to the sun. "Memories of the King" [Song] Hunting a small pond, lotus flowers filled the courtyard after the rain.
The magic pumpkin is cold in ice and snow. Bamboo square bed, needlework is unintentional, and dreams are long in the afternoon.
After all, in mid-June, the scenery of the West Lake is different from that at four o'clock. The next day, the lotus leaves are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors. "Xiaochi" [Song] Yang Wanli's eyes are silent and cherish the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves to be fine and soft.
The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head. "Drunken Book on Looking at the Lake Building on June 27th" [Song] Su Shi's dark clouds do not cover the mountains, and the white rain jumps over the boat.
Suddenly, the wind rolled up and dispersed the clouds in the sky. The lake was blue as a mirror, beautiful and gentle. "[Tang] Jia Jian" Jiangnan Ji ",Ci bamboo shoots and other editors.
Qi is a castle and frog is an orchestra. Summer in the mountain pavilion [Tang] The tall trees are dark green, the summer is long, and the balcony reflects into the pool.
The crystal curtains are moving, the breeze is blowing, and the whole frame is fragrant. "About" [Song] It rains at home in Huangmei season in Zhao Shixiu, and frogs are everywhere in the grass pond.
It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp. "Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous" [Song] Fan Chengda plums are golden and apricot fat, and wheat and white cauliflower are thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. "Xiaoyao Sunny" [Song] In Fan Chengda, plums are ripe in the window, and bamboo shoots come out of the forest under the wall.
I don't even know if the rain will go in spring, but it will get deeper when it clears up in summer. In summer, I was thinking about Xin [Tang] Meng Haoran and the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west in Nanting, and the moon rose from the lake.
Hang your hair in the shade at night, open the window and lie down in a quiet and spacious place. The evening breeze sent waves of lotus fragrance, and the dew on the bamboo leaves made a crisp sound.
"Early Summer" [Song] Sima Guang In April, it was clear and rainy, and every household in Nanshan was clear. There are no catkins in the wind, only sunflowers open to the sun.
"Memories of the King" [Song] Hunting a small pond, lotus flowers filled the courtyard after the rain. The magic pumpkin is cold in ice and snow.
Bamboo square bed, sighing in summer night/Du Fu can't live forever, and the inflammation is steaming and poisoning the intestines. Andrew Wan Lifeng, the wind is blowing on my skirt.
Kazuki Watanabe musicians are born in heaven, and there are few forests. The bitter nights in midsummer are short, and the entrance is cool.
When you see the slightest thing in vain, the feather bug flies. Things have no details and are adaptive.
Miss Pigos, and keep the border in poor years. Why are you washing and looking at each other?
Diao Dou was hit at night, and the noise was even 10,000 square meters. Although the purple is covered, it is better to return to China early.
3. Modern poems about summer
The light blue night in Yu Guangzhong overflows into the window. In midsummer, the little palace lanterns filled with fireflies are dreaming, dreaming of the Tang Palace, dreaming of the chasing light, dreaming of another summer night, dreaming of the funeral of a star, dreaming of the extension and extinction of a flash, dreaming of your sigh. My review and silence "Wild Grapes" Where can I wait for hope except in summer? Green is everywhere, and a few strings of full thoughts are climbing high. May all the power spread in the vast Shan Ye, and may your dark and bright eyes take off the "summer charm" of me, and the courtyard in summer opens. Who's outside the patio? The humid voice of summer calls me? In the kneading of the sound, something of mine warmed the three seasons. A season broke out. I drifted in the sound and walked into a lingering melody in summer. I am very soft in summer. I accepted the hint of breaking the imprisonment again and again. I am accumulating in my mind over and over again, ready to speak the language. I am eager to get lost in summer and forget the way when I came. Listen to the man who tripped in summer. Sigh 2. "Planting trees in summer" My palms are wet, so I climb on the grass to plant trees in summer. A tree that blows with its own branches and leaves, a tree that grows up in a hug, a tree that tears in its crown and buries its sigh in the middle of its roots is a tree that longs for people to disappear during the day and plant trees under the starlight and crescent moon at night. Because it was planted in summer, I learned code words and only shook branches to express myself. "Lake of Summer" has a kind of happiness called being conquered, and a feeling called being on the road. There is a season called summer. There is a beautiful lake called summer. The lake in summer is very quiet, almost silent. The lake in summer is beautiful, almost looking up. It's like stroking your skin and swimming in the lake. Summer makes the lake mysterious, and some talking fish are swimming. Summer makes the lake grass flourish, and there are also some traps for desire. Summer makes this lake charming. When a woman gets up, she walks around the lake like a fairy in the heavenly palace. In summer, the light moves forward. Light attracts light and overflows another lake, forming another kind of beauty. In fact, what they deliberately pursue has long lost its charm, whether it is summer or winter.
4. Modern poems describing spring and summer
A modern poem describing spring: A Poem for Spring. The echo of firecrackers has fallen to the ground. Those more or less happiness are like snow. The old year is gone forever, and the new year begins quietly. Time passes, youth grows old, and childhood grows up day by day. The past has passed in blowing in the wind, and hope is gradually sprouting. Whose call in the sky makes you feel the warmth of spring? After all, it is not winter. In spring, geese come to your door. Spring is green, wind and rain are green, and rain is green. When I woke up, I jumped into our arms. Before I cleared my throat, I scattered crunchy songs all over the floor. Before I woke up, the fruit trees exploded into dazzling and gorgeous spring. The busiest swallow. As she whispered, she carefully cut out new clothes for spring with shiny scissors. Although it still makes you feel chilly sometimes, spring can be as hot as fire. After all, it brought a depressed winter from the gray memory ... "Looking at a Snow in Spring" boarded the train bound for spring with the sharp sword of the season, ruthlessly scraped off the restless buds, and let the cracked little hand in winter stretch out and hold up the banner of hunting a snow in spring. As long as you set foot on the equator in spring, a snow is precious. Dialogue with Snow Snowflakes flow freely in six directions, giving instructions and sending out moist messages. In fact, spring has nothing to do with a snow, but a sudden cold in late spring. Grab everyone's love and look up. The contact between heaven and earth is fierce, and it goes down the slope of the season. Head on, it is waiting for "who has hunted the feathers of spring". After experiencing that kind of abundant vitality, the last collection season is hidden in the thick spring. Under the wings of the day, a feather serenades safely and gracefully, gently flapping the sails sailing in the sea of the four seasons. Who fell out of favor under the eaves of love after harvesting love? She turned her back on her romantic passion and swam quietly with a tear in the space of steaming clouds in spring. Vilen saw the dying light bathed in the grinding of clouds, and the fiery control of beautiful feathers in the sea and sky could not surpass the smoke lock. Endless journey, with wordless promise, raise pious prayer flags and go away. Who hunts the feathers of spring, but can't find the soaring sky to collect the feathers of emotional branches? The rain passed through my chest. A sound ticks from a high place, like a shawl of Rapunzel. The black waterfall grasped the time tightly, so I became a dizzy elf in the endless rain curtain. I can't tell who is the real irresistible desire. Raindrops are flying in the air and rising slowly. Floating in the air, the accumulated strength has quietly penetrated into my broad chest, so the waves in my chest have aroused ripples and slapped the emotional shore reef. Waves of breath and drops of rain moisten each other. Drops of rain go deep into my heart without cover, mix with my thoughts, and then wash everything through the narrow space in my heart. A ray of sunshine takes the opportunity to travel through time to reach my sunny sky. Seeing a Snow in Spring boarded the train for spring. A sharp sword of the season blows away the restless buds mercilessly, making the small hand that has cracked for a winter stretch out in the spring and hold the banner of hunting and chasing a snow. As long as you set foot on the equator in spring, a fierce snow is precious. The dialogue between spring and snow flows freely in six directions, giving instructions and sending wet messages. In fact, spring has nothing to do with a snow, but a sudden cold in late spring. Grab everyone's love and look up. The contact between heaven and earth is intense, purely along the slope of the season. Going down is waiting for the last snow and treetops outside the window, watching the endless branches sigh, and the fog drops into a yearning for spring. A bud quietly arched out of the frozen soil and tapped on the door of the earth. Sparrows strolled leisurely and disappeared into the frozen cracked trunk, enjoying love. The light kite in the suburbs drove the boat all the way to the spring territory, and the road was still muddy. Occasionally, pedestrians stand up their collars and shut out the cold of spring. It is sunny inside. I didn't make an appointment with a kite, so I took my son to the top of the mountain in the suburbs and enjoyed a happy winter. A floating leaf is flying in the distance. You're here. I'll lie down with my wife and kiss the wet Achnatherum splendens. I've been fidgeting all afternoon. I really want to take out my son's schoolbag and sweep him away. Think of an old buffalo gnawing at a lawn full of wild flowers between buildings and then singing like a shepherd boy. It is a small seedling that grows wildly in spring, and it is a leaf on the ridge of the field. Imagine, not long ago, in this land, it was this old buffalo who mumbled to push the speed of the season forward. Holding hands, an ethereal philosopher makes various gestures, turns the warm colors in the land over through the cold eyes of the season, throws a cold classical figure obliquely into the mud wave, drags the plow and urges them to carry the last feather in Who's Hunting for Spring? After being full of energy, I hid in the twilight of late spring. Under the wings of the day, a feather serenades gracefully and quietly, licking the sails sailing in the sea of four seasons. Who fell out of favor under the eaves of love after harvesting love? I turned my back on my once romantic passion, and quietly swam a drop of clear tears in the space between the steaming clouds and Xia Wei. Vilen saw the dying light bathed in the grinding of clouds, and the fiery beauty of the sea and sky could not be controlled by the smoke lock. With the endless journey of silent promise, raise the pious prayer flags and go away. Who hunts the feathers of spring but can't find the soaring sky to collect the feathers of emotional branches? I think, in a spring afternoon, maybe a lot of things will be boring and lonely, looking at the distant sky on the windowsill, and the crowded downstairs is crowded with pedestrians in a hurry. They all looked serious and witnessed the individual actions of others. On the one hand, there is a clear sky in Wan Li, and a lyrical pigeon feather is so beautiful that it holds a pigeon whistle. The fearless gliding cast a vigorous shadow under the canopy between the kite and the breeze. Only choose irregular strokes and traces of thinking, set up pigeons, reach the distant bridge with open feathers, wait for a beam of sunshine, preferably long-lost sunshine, come over, and then embrace the weekend heartily.
5. Modern poems describing summer.
Poetry in summer
Rain washes the summer sky.
The faint blue color reveals the loneliness of a place.
Write the story of that year.
Play it back like an old movie without leaving the scene.
You said I'm sorry, I love you, and then you cried.
I don't know what to do. I can't help dreaming that my sadness will stay.
Since the first summer after you left.
I try to record things about you and me in the most beautiful poems.
Helpless fingertips are cold
Can't write warm words
Oh, baby, but I still don't understand.
I don't understand why you chose to leave, and whether I will continue to wait.
The leaves of the plane floated by the roadside, and the green moonlight lingered outside the door.
One day the lost heart will come back.
Please provide some modern poems about summer.
Rain washes the summer sky.
The faint blue color reveals the loneliness of a place.
Write the story of that year.
Play it back like an old movie without leaving the scene.
You said I'm sorry, I love you, and then you cried.
I don't know what to do. I can't help dreaming that my sadness will stay.
Since the first summer after you left.
I try to record things about you and me in the most beautiful poems.
Helpless fingertips are cold
Can't write warm words
Oh, baby, but I still don't understand.
I don't understand why you chose to leave, and whether I will continue to wait.
The leaves of the plane floated by the roadside, and the green moonlight lingered outside the door.
One day the lost heart will come back.
7. Modern poetry describing summer.
In addition to summer, where can Wild Grapes wait for hope? Green plants are all over the mountains. The wind can't blow the waves. A few strings of full thoughts climb high and spread all the power as much as possible. Shan Ye wants you to choose dark and bright eyes. The charm of summer, summer patio opened. Who's outside the patio? The humid voice of summer calls me? In the kneading of the sound, something of mine warmed for three seasons and broke out for one season. I drifted in the sound and walked into a lingering melody in summer. I am soft in summer and dredge my blood in summer. I accepted the hint of breaking the imprisonment again and again, and accumulated it in my heart again and again. When I was eager to speak the language, I got lost and was forgotten in summer. Listening to the appearance of summer, how did this rickety man sigh? "Planting trees in summer" My palms are wet, so I climb on the grass to plant trees in summer. A tree that blows with its own branches and leaves, a tree that grows up in a hug, a tree that shed tears in the crown and buried a sigh in the middle of the root tree is a yearning for people. Trees planted during the day disappear at night, and the trees are exposed to starlight and crescent moon. Because it was planted in summer, I learned code words and only shook branches to express myself. "Lake of Summer" has a kind of happiness called being conquered, and a feeling called being on the road. There is a season called summer. There is a beautiful lake called summer. The lake in summer is very quiet, almost silent. The lake in summer is so beautiful that it almost makes people look up. Walking on the lake, the lake is rippling in various ways. Swimming in the lake is like stroking your skin. Summer makes this lake mysterious and full of swimming feeling. Some talking fish make lake grass flourish in summer. Some traps composed of desire and desire make the lake charming in summer. Women walk by the lake like fairies from the heavenly palace. In summer, the light moves forward, attracts the light, and overflows another lake, forming another kind of beauty. In fact, what they deliberately pursue has long lost its charm, whether it is summer or winter.
8. Complete works of modern poetry about summer.
The silence of spring is because I don't want a long stream of water, and the shadow reflected on the water is like sunny days and breezes.
The delicate lotus flower bud shows a sharp corner from the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stands on its head. It is the scenery of the West Lake in June, which is really different from other seasons.
Lotus leaves will not turn green the next day, and lotus flowers are particularly bright red in the sun. The water is bright and sunny, and the mountains are cloudy and rainy.
If there are more dead beauties in the West Lake, C+ is so appropriate. Green trees, deep shadows, long summer, the reflection of the tower in the pond.
The crystal curtains are blowing gently, and the roses are fragrant. Mei Huang Shi, every family was flooded by rain, and the pond was covered with green grass and frogs.
It's past midnight, and the invited guests haven't come yet. I tapped the chess pieces bored and shook the wick of an oil lamp. From the Song Dynasty poet Yang Wanli Xiaochi > Spring eyes are silent because they can't bear the thin water, and the shade reflects the water because they like sunny days and gentle winds.
The delicate little lotus leaf just emerged from the sharp corner of the water, and a naughty little dragonfly stood on it early. Yang Wanli, a poet in the Song Dynasty, went out to Jingci Temple to send Lin Zifang > The scenery of the West Lake in June is different from other seasons: the dense layers of lotus leaves spread out, which are connected with the blue sky and endless green; Graceful lotus flowers are in full bloom, especially bright and red under the sunshine.
Su Shi, a poet in the Song Dynasty, wrote two poems, "Drinking on the Lake is clear". In the sunshine, radiant, beautiful. When it rains, the distant mountains are shrouded in misty rain, and their eyes are confused. The hazy scenery is also beautiful.
If the beautiful West Lake is compared to a beauty, then whether it is light makeup or heavy makeup, it can always set off her natural beauty and charming charm. From the Tang Dynasty poet's masterpiece "Summer in the Mountain Pavilion": the trees are lush and dark, and the summer is long, and the balcony is reflected in the pond.
The water curtain shakes and the breeze blows, and the roses are full of fragrance. From the Song Dynasty poet Zhao Shixiu's "About > Mei Huangshi", every family was shrouded in rain, and there were bursts of frogs on the edge of the grassy pond.
It's past midnight and the invited guests haven't come yet. When I lit the oil lamp, I beat the chess piece bored and broke the knot on the wick.