1. Poems and famous sayings about Jiuzhaigou

The surrounding mountains reflect a pool of clear water and a narrow stream. There is also "Jiuzhaigou Poems" written by Wang Jiucheng (male, born in July 1970) In Laiyang, Shandong.

Started publishing poetry and prose in 1994.

Now editor of a magazine in Xi'an. The thin road on the road to Jiuzhai took over my gradually lighter body and went upwards. Holding the belt of the cloud with the hand of the snow peak, looking down at the overlapping roads with the eyes of the sky. The water of the Minjiang River never stops for a moment, rushing towards the distant destination, far away from the soul, far away from the colorful and pure sea, whose face is dyed red by the sun. The girl is carrying the crystal inside the stone, or the mysterious spell that has not been consecrated.

The touching tributes from every tourist. The profound Tibetan songs are ringing in the ears. The thin oxygen is enough to breathe. The eagles are circling and pecking, making the patterns of the clouds more colorful. The sun is struggling to stop and the yaks are relaxing. I found the poor Cordyceps sinensis, coughed lightly and cut my heart and lungs. A wooden house can grow from any piece of soil. The rice from far away slowly adapted to the hardness of the lack of oxygen. On this road to Jiuzhaigou, I arrived at a place that many people cannot reach in their lifetime. The height reached 2. Jiuzhai in late winter. When the snow on the roadside warms my eyes, I hear the pouring of flowing water. The call of thousands of years is approaching deep in my heart step by step. The road is getting closer and more twists and turns, and peaks are coming towards my face. Entering from the height of lack of oxygen. The hinterland entered the primitive from modern times, and in an instant I forgot my own existence. The bonfire was approaching at night, and the wild Guozhuang was dancing. When there was fire, there was a fiery heart, there was dancing, there was dancing soul. The jumping waterfall, can it awaken the phoenix resting in the water? Transparent The wind may dance the sleeping dragon on the peak. In this fairy tale world, I saw an ancient village. In that ancient village, there was a Tibetan knife that I lost. 3. After returning from Jiuzhaigou, I visited the Tibetan people’s homes and saw it from a distance. The matrilineal eagle hovers on the mountain top of the setting sun. The colorful prayer flags tell the wind of piety. The holy mountain shines with ageless light. The roadside is dotted with prostrate figures. The suffering of blood is hidden in the desolate pastoral song. The snow-white Hada hands out auspicious greetings. The passion of home awaits. The girl's face is reflected red by the stove in the boiling butter tea. The highland barley wine bounces into my mortal heart. The legend of polyandry stirs my painful nerves. The chanting of sutras placed above my head purifies me. A dusty journey, returning from a magical paradise, walking into dignity from fairy tales, the people here I call brothers and sisters, the pictures here are more like my dreams 4. Walking through the Jiuzhaigou Valley in late autumn, the waters warmed by the sky and flames are blue. The water reflects the laurels of ice and snow and the gorgeous clothes of clouds. The transparent fish has grown up in the folk songs of thousands of years. The Tibetan knife on my back has gradually dimmed due to long-term loss. The fire of red leaves reflects the autumn of Jiuzhaigou. The poems of the flowing frost. Waiting for the familiar footsteps to knock on the door to heaven. The wind brings devout prayers from afar. The Tibetan scriptures floating on the prayer flags wash away the dust scattered in the soul. The waters led by the horns are passed between the stones and the sky. The clear message of life is opened by a clear Buddha light. The dance stirred up by the bonfire surges out of the original restlessness in the bones. Countless bird wings flap and dreamy white swans confuse the water's ripples. Silver music is full of ageless wisdom. Walking through the late autumn All creatures in Jiuzhaigou will be cleaner than when they came. Personal introduction: Wang Jiucheng, Jiuzhaigou Poetry Group/Wang Jiucheng 1. On the road to Jiuzhaigou, the thin road took over my gradually lighter body and went upward. Holding the belt of the cloud with the hand of the snow peak, looking down at the overlapping roads with the eyes of the sky. The water of the Minjiang River never stops for a moment, rushing towards the distant destination, far away from the soul, far away from the colorful and pure sea, whose face is dyed red by the sun. The girl is carrying the crystal inside the stone, or the mysterious spell that has not been consecrated.

The touching tributes from every tourist. The profound Tibetan songs are ringing in the ears. The thin oxygen is enough to breathe. The eagles are circling and pecking, making the patterns of the clouds more colorful. The sun is struggling to stop and the yaks are relaxing. I found the poor Cordyceps sinensis, coughed lightly and cut my heart and lungs. A wooden house can grow from any piece of soil. The rice from far away slowly adapted to the hardness of the lack of oxygen. On this road to Jiuzhaigou, I arrived at a place that many people cannot reach in their lifetime. The height reached 2. Jiuzhai in late winter. When the snow on the roadside warms my eyes, I hear the pouring of flowing water. The call of thousands of years is approaching deep in my heart step by step. The road is getting closer and more twists and turns, and peaks are coming towards my face. Entering from the height of lack of oxygen. The hinterland entered the primitive from modern times, and in an instant I forgot my own existence. The bonfire was approaching at night, and the wild Guozhuang was dancing. When there was fire, there was a fiery heart, there was dancing, there was dancing soul. The jumping waterfall, can it awaken the phoenix resting in the water? Transparent The wind may dance the sleeping dragon on the peak. In this fairy tale world, I saw an ancient village. In that ancient village, there was a Tibetan knife that I lost. 3. After returning from Jiuzhaigou, I visited the Tibetan people’s homes and saw it from a distance. The matrilineal eagle hovers on the mountain top of the setting sun. The colorful prayer flags tell the wind of piety. The holy mountain shines with ageless light. The roadside is dotted with prostrate figures. The suffering of blood is hidden in the desolate pastoral song. The snow-white Hada hands out auspicious greetings. The passion of home awaits. The girl's face is reflected red by the stove in the boiling butter tea. The highland barley wine bounces into my mortal heart. The legend of polyandry stirs my painful nerves. The chanting of sutras placed above my head purifies me. A dusty journey, returning from a magical paradise, walking into dignity from fairy tales, the people here I call brothers and sisters, the pictures here are more like my dreams 4. Walking through the Jiuzhaigou Valley in late autumn, the waters warmed by the sky and flames are blue. The water reflects the laurels of ice and snow and the gorgeous clothes of clouds. The transparent fish has grown up in the folk songs of thousands of years. The Tibetan knife on my back has gradually dimmed due to long-term loss. The fire of red leaves reflects the autumn of Jiuzhaigou. The poems of the flowing frost. Waiting for the familiar footsteps to knock on the door to heaven. The wind brings devout prayers from afar. The Tibetan scriptures floating on the prayer flags wash away the dust scattered in the soul. The waters led by the horns are passed between the stones and the sky. The clear message of life is opened by a clear Buddha light. The dance stirred up by the bonfire surges out of the original restlessness in the bones. Countless bird wings flap and dreamy white swans confuse the water's ripples. Silver music is full of ageless wisdom. Walking through the late autumn All the creatures in Jiuzhaigou will be cleaner than when they arrived. 2. What poems describe Jiuzhaigou?

1. Yaochi is originally in the human world, making ordinary people laugh at An Xuexian. There is a road to heaven leading to Jiuzhaigou, where fairyland can be wandered.

2. Count the hundred and ten pools of pearls, and the flowing clouds are in the water near the thatched hut. A ditch of dense pine forest, eyes full of quiet sapphire blue. Fortunately, there are no Buddhist chants in the depths of the mountain, so it happens that the guests are chatting about poetry. Jing Jia belongs to the literati generation, so he can earn some money by retaining his splendid medals.

3. The mountains on all sides reflect a narrow stream of clear water.

4. Shushan Mountain has been called Emei since ancient times. How is Emei more special than Jiuzhaigou? Green lakes are connected with waterfalls, and the water and mountains are like a fairyland.

5. Visiting Jiuzhaigou in the golden autumn, the red leaves are better than the blooming flowers. The blue sea is full of colors, and the wind and snow dance on the sword rocks. Looking around is the fairyland, wandering step by step. Waving goodbye, we meet again.

The ancients didn’t write about it. Maybe it was a difficult road to travel in the first place, and no great poet had ever been there before. These are not ancient poems, they are all written by modern people, but I don’t know who wrote them.