1. Poems or stories about umbrellas
Xiqian Ying (Du Dong) gave birth to Shen Hua Xi.
It’s the first five days of the New Year. The peppers sing the plum blossoms, and the golden flags are colorful. It’s a beautiful scene in early spring.
May you live a long life with benevolence, and be harmonious and harmonious. People always say that spring has feet, and kindness floats in the south.
It should be noted that under the edict of Dan, there was the first news of spring in the sky last night. The sun turns yellow, the wind brings out crimson umbrellas, and the dragon's face in the Spring Palace is just around the corner.
***Celebrate a grand gathering, and all the world will enjoy the spring breeze together. I wish you longevity, and from now on, I will count the thousand billions of good springs.
Qinyuan Chun (Fu Boda) The White Emperor is in charge of power, Yan Palace returns to control, and a leaf announces autumn. The Milky Way is flowing high, the golden wind is blowing, the ice wheel is about to be full, and the fire umbrella is beginning to close.
Wu Yue spreads his fame, bullfighting is a show, who is the best in the world? That's even more embarrassing. He has extraordinary talent and can help the world and plan for others.
Fengliuhua County is famous for its good government and honest officials. The owl book is recommended to the court, the mud seal is called to the evening, the honor is promoted to the boudoir, and the journey is smooth in Yingzhou.
The song stops in the walking clouds, the dance flies back to the snow, and the longevity wine pours deeply into the jasper pot. From now on, I wish to be as old as the originator and be named in Danqiu.
Linjiang Immortal (Huang Renjie) In June, Yanguan closes his fire umbrella, and the southern smoke washes away the troubles and steams. Thirteen pods compete for youth again.
When asked about Chen Zhongju, Yuan was born at this time. Don't forget to have a clear day when you have achieved success. You still have a star on the screen when you ask questions.
Blackheads never come late to the public. Let's pour ant wine and listen to the blessings of longevity.
Tank Song in the Rain (Lu You) Last night the rain was as heavy as an axle, but today the rain is as thin as an ox's hair. The finer people say, the more beautiful things will be. God's efforts are not in vain.
The mud penetrates deeply into the city road, and the broken eaves and walls are rusty. How could it be that the frog was so proud of himself that he sat there and felt helpless to pick up the weeds?
He peeled off the bed and offered it to the maidservant, and carried an umbrella to school to take care of his son Cao. The wine in the village is expensive and cannot be given on credit, and the cloth bag is untied to look for cheating robes.
Bodhisattva Man (Lu Bing) wears a pomegranate skirt and a slender waist. The golden lotus is stable and the bow boots are small.
Coquettish and shy. The umbrella is lowered to cover half of the body.
Gratitude is as thin as paper. Fang Xin was wrong at first.
Encountering Kuhuru. I still suspect it was a dream.
Author of Modern Poetry Six Umbrellas: Forgetting the Umbrella in the Peripheral Vision The image of the sunflower’s reverse side. The dark back sunflower bears witness to human forgetfulness. It blooms in the rain and withers in the rain. One by one, it is forgotten and I can’t remember where it is. The life experience outside the house is a mystery. Who is the master who never looks back? The music umbrella cuts a small black cloud to resist the thousands of black cloud umbrellas on top. Who invented it through epiphany? Such pure geometric beauty is connected by straight lines and curves to form a shallow arc. The two ends of the eaves are stretched out, and a series of intermittent flying bells are dripping from the twelve eaves corners. What you are holding in your hand is a natural musical instrument. Mrs. Rain improvises My fingers tapped and tapped intermittently - the memory umbrella was so heroic when it was heavy and how unrestrained it was when it was light. It rained for a long time and the thirty-six ribs were stored in the memory at the thick gray cloud. I don't know at which door. Behind my back, as long as I can still find the one I had when I was a child, I can hold up the April days in Sichuan. The spring rain drips from the edge of the umbrella, and the sound of frogs comes from the paddy fields. The cuckoos come from the distant mountains and circle the umbrella with a chilling humidity. The handle is spinning, the rain is so fresh and fresh. The most unforgettable thing about the family umbrella is a heavy thunderstorm when I was a child in Jiangnan. Below is the long water town. Above is the flash of lightning and the heavy thunder of heaven and earth. My shrinking shoulders, who is holding me with one hand to protect me with the other. I even hold my oil-paper umbrella to bear the rain and the wind, so many rivers and lakes and seas. I have spent most of my life, and I have already become accustomed to thunder and lightning. It is just the night of the typhoon, but I miss my mother's lonely grave. What kind of rain and wind, it is my turn to send you away. The umbrella left, but the oil-paper umbrella was gone, not to mention the child's friendship umbrella. In the storm, a friend came to pick me up with an umbrella. One hand helped me stagger, and the other raised the firm handle of the umbrella into a big shield to resist the rampant rain arrows. Later, I discovered that he was on the other side of the headwind. His clothes were almost soaked by the rain. Isn’t the so-called confidant just an umbrella? ——On sunny days, when it rains, I will suddenly open the umbrella for you. If the night is a green rain, luckily I still have a lamp. A delicate little umbrella opens up a soft atmosphere. No matter what it is made of, it is crimson. Atmosphere or orange halo. I hope you will be my umbrella umbrella and accompany me through the wet and cold rain. If the night is green rain, if death is black rain, it will be miserable. If I stand in the rain, waiting for you to hold an umbrella. Greeting and waiting for you. 2. Regarding the poem about "oil-paper umbrella", any ancient poem or modern poem can be used, preferably one written by a famous writer
"Rain Alley" - Dai Wangshu
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, Wandering alone in the long,
long and lonely rainy alley, I hope to meet,
a lilac-like girl with sorrow and resentment.
She has the same color as lilac,
The same fragrance as lilac, the same sadness as lilac,
She is sad in the rain, sad and hesitant;
She was wandering in this lonely rainy alley, holding an oil-paper umbrella,
Like me, like me,
Walking silently, indifferent, desolate, and... Melancholy.
She walked closer and closer silently, and then cast,
Her breath-like eyes drifted past,
Like a dream, like a dream Sad and confused.
Like a sprig of lilac floating in a dream,
This girl floated by my side, she was silently far away, far away,
She was in decline. The dilapidated fence fills this rainy alley.
In the mournful song of the rain, her color disappeared,
Her fragrance disappeared, even her
breath-like eyes , as melancholy as lilac.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, wandering alone in the long,
Long and lonely rain alley, I hope to drift by,
A lilac-like, knotted A sad girl.
Extended information
Creative background
This poem was written in the summer of 1927.
At that time, the country was in the grip of white terror. Because he had participated in progressive activities, Dai Wangshu had to take refuge in a friend's home in Songjiang. In solitude, he savored the disillusionment and pain after the failure of the Great Revolution, and his heart was filled with confused emotions and hazy hopes. The poem "Rain Alley" is an expression of his mood, which is intertwined with the dual sentiments of disappointment and hope, disillusionment and pursuit. This sentiment was somewhat universal at the time.
Appreciation of the Work
The poem describes the lyrical protagonist "holding an oil-paper umbrella" and wandering alone in a long and lonely rainy alley. He cherishes a vague hope, hoping to meet "a girl who is as sad as a lilac". This girl has the same color and fragrance as a lilac, but her heart is full of sadness and sadness.
He met such a girl, but it was fleeting, "like floating in a dream", her color, fragrance, "eyes like breath" and "melancholy like lilac" all disappeared in " "In the Lament of Rain". He still "holds an oil-paper umbrella" and wanders alone in the long and lonely rainy alley, still holding on to hope, and hope floats past "a girl who is as sad as a lilac".
An important artistic feature of "Rain Alley" is the use of symbolism to express emotion. Symbolism is an artistic genre that emerged in French poetry at the end of the 19th century. They used the decadence of the end of the world to resist the capitalist order. In terms of expression methods, it emphasizes the use of hints, metaphors and other means to express inner momentary emotions. This art school was introduced to China during the ebb of the May Fourth Movement.
Dai Wangshu’s early creations were also obviously influenced by French Symbolism. An important feature of his creation is to pay attention to the ability of poetry to suggest metaphors, and to express emotions in symbolic images and artistic conceptions. "Rain Alley" embodies this artistic characteristic.
In the poem, the poet holding an oil-paper umbrella, the lonely and long rain alley, and the girl with lilac-like sadness floating past like a dream are not specific portrayals of real life itself, but are full of symbols. Meaningfully lyrical image. It is not necessarily possible to say all the content that these images refer to in detail, but one can appreciate the vague poetic meaning expressed by these images.
The atmosphere of social reality, the lonely and wandering state of mind, the kind of hope that is pursued but cannot be obtained, in the image described in "Rain Alley", are both clear and hazy, both certain and erratic. The land is displayed before your eyes. Imagination creates symbols, and symbols expand imagination. The result of using symbolic methods to express emotions makes the poet's emotional state more subtle and subtle, leaving a vast world for imagination and feeling the lingering fragrance and aftertaste of the poem.
"Rain Alley" is hazy but not obscure, low-key but not decadent, affectionate but not frivolous. It truly captures the subtlety and subtlety of the Symbolist poetry art.
Baidu Encyclopedia - Yuxiang 3. Sentences to describe umbrellas
1. In the vast world, you are devoted to the moment of warmth under the umbrella. The color of the lake is thousands of hectares, the water waves are cold, the time is cold for hundreds of generations, but under an umbrella, an eighty-four-bone oil paper umbrella with a purple bamboo handle, there are people gathering with each other, and under the umbrella there is the fragrance of the world. Xin, a thousand years of practice is a blank without memory, but a moment under the umbrella is enough to be passed down for thousands of years.
2. I never like to hold an umbrella, because: the rain cannot cover the eyes, but the umbrella covers the sky.
3. The person holding an umbrella always hopes that there will be someone standing side by side with him under the umbrella.
4. If someone without an umbrella walks next to someone with an umbrella, no matter how close they are, they will not be able to escape the rain and will get even wetter. It's better to hide far away, even if you don't have an umbrella, the rain will pass and the sky will clear up. Even if you are not close, you can still have your own sunny world.
5. Twenty-five years, a quarter of a century, even if it rains, there are thousands of umbrellas across thousands of mountains.
6. The lonely umbrella holder only has the umbrella in his hand in the rain, but I, the one in the rain, have thousands of raindrops to keep me company even though I am lonely.
7. The girl had an umbrella in her hand, but because it was mine, she didn’t hold it open. I also have an umbrella, but I can't hold it in her hand.
8. Whenever it rains and I hold an umbrella, I will think of you.
My eyes are raining for you, but my heart is holding an umbrella for you.
9. Crying while listening to the rain is Umbrella’s fate in life.
10. It’s great to have an umbrella, but it’s crying.
11. Holding an umbrella and falling red like rain, the youth of a lifetime appears.
12. An umbrella and a smile, the wind is warm, and the leaves disappear with the autumn and don’t know the cold.
13. Suddenly a strong wind blew, the willow branches trembled wildly, clouds appeared in the northwest, fog locked in the southeast, and rain fell for a while, destroying the flowers. A young man in blue, his clothes fluttering in the wind, opened an umbrella in the light smoke and heavy rain. What a good umbrella, with a purple bamboo handle and eighty-four bones. It seems to have been made by the Shu family from Bazi Bridge in Qinghu. Such a good umbrella and such a good person cannot withstand all the ups and downs. Ordinary guests become victims.
14. Even with an umbrella, you can escape a burst of cold rain, but you cannot escape the entire rainy season. Even the thoughts are moist.
15. Time is like rain. We are all people walking in the rain. Find your own umbrella and walk forward until the wind stops raining and it is a beautiful sunny day. 4. Contains and famous beautiful articles and poems about oil-paper umbrellas
I don’t need to be verbose about the famous poet Dai Wangshu’s “Rain Alley”. All literary and artistic young people, middle-aged and elderly people are familiar with it. An absolute classic of modern poetry.
Below is a transcript of some of the beautiful articles written by modern people about oil-paper umbrellas. It also has a unique flavor when you read it.
Chapter 1: The rain on the West Lake tells the story of my thousand-year resentment. In this season of red orioles and willows, I took a small boat, holding an oil-paper umbrella, standing on the bow of the boat, and looking out in despair: through the misty rain. The West Lake embankment, long streets and winding lanes, black tiles and whitewashed walls, cornices and leaky windows are all looming. Even though there is an autumn moon on a flat lake and a gentle spring dawn on Su Di, thousands of trees and flowers and ten miles of weeping willows shatter a long-cherished wish.
The ripples of the blue waves carry my nostalgic feelings, along with the rain, along with the fragrance of flowers, along with sighs, along with the melancholy of resentment... In the distance, the faint music of bamboo color fills the air, who is clasping the bamboo lightly? The string, who is dancing the flute, is it the song of the warbler, is it the sweetness of the swallow, or is it the lingering, lingering murmur of lovesickness. The swaying water, the swaying heart, the swaying love, the swaying is vivid in my mind.
When the boat docked, I stepped on the microwave, with clear clouds on my sleeves, walking lightly in a thousand-year trance dream. In the distance, there is misty green smoke. Where is the past life and where is the afterlife? Where is the home that I long for and dream about... The gentle raindrops fall into the winding alley of bluestone, and the green moss is dotted. I close the oil-paper umbrella, take off the jade pendant, bamboo flute and satin sweat towel, and wear a green dress. , I want to drag along, looking for the direction I came from in my dream.
Small bridges and flowing water, fishing boats and silk nets, Huansha village girls, playful girls, pavilions and pavilions... are still the same as before, and it seems that they have never changed. Today, the mountains are still there, the water is still there, and the rain is still there, but my figure is wandering alone, wandering lonely in the stone alleys of Qing Street.
My tearful eyes have been confused for too long, and the rose-colored smoky purple reveals the sadness in my eyes. I ran my fingers over the thousand-year-old green moss attached to the stone wall, and a drop of clear tears reflected my lonely face.
Why do I always go back and forth on the edge of separation and pain? Why do I still linger in the dream prisoner's home after several reincarnations? Raindrops are beating on the green tiles, green water is lingering around the white walls, leaning against the window of a quiet and deep home, caressing the mottled railings that still have red paint, imagining the joy of leaning on the railings and dancing with fans, it feels like a world away.
On the whitened wood carvings worn by rain, peony petals gradually withered, spider silk hung all over the withered gauze, and dust covered every bit of the past. In the bronze candlestick, there are still a few drops of candle tears that have gone through vicissitudes of life. In the ancient prism mirror, the smiley red lips cannot be seen.
I finally believe that you and I have been separated from each other for a long time. What did we do wrong? We can't meet each other in this confusing world.
Looking back at the season when the elms and willows were shaded, the moss-covered stone slabs, the rippling lake water, and the long and gentle drizzle record the past and present lives of you and me.
It is also the season of willows and willows. In order to be with me in this life, you lightly dyed the bright red of peach blossoms, lightly painted with the fragrance of blue lotus, picked the softness of willow green, and styled your hair into a bun like clouds, letting the eternal tenderness, in the ancient charm of West Lake, In my eyes, beauty overflows.
Thousands of years of fate have destined you and me to meet on the broken bridge. When my wet scholar's shirt appeared under your lonely umbrella, the fragrance of your hair wrapped around my passionate eyes.
My blurred eyes are like the morning stars rising in the hazy rain. The moment he stared at me, the pain in his heart crossed the sadness of death.
This is a hopeless fate, but it is an inescapable disaster in our lives. You are the white snake I saved in my previous life, and you are destined to be entangled with me for the rest of my life. A love of love has been buried for thousands of years, just to become my bride in this life.
During the days we got along, I said you always had an innocent fairy spirit that kept me lingering. White skirts are your favorite, and oil-paper umbrellas are your obsession.
The swaying orchid fingers, drunk by the sunset, brought the bright moon, but it made me feel inexplicably beautiful and beautiful. But, I don’t know that for this marriage, you violated the laws of nature, abandoned your spiritual practice, and exchanged for the indifferent life of a commoner couple, but you still can’t escape the disaster of the world.
Under the Lei Feng Tower, we were parted in life and death, unable to leave each other, unable to move the world, but we were cursed by Fa Hai for several generations. How did I know? Therefore, I can only linger by the West Lake, just waiting to meet you in reincarnation, and then cruelly separate. I once devoured crabs that I never liked, just to crush Fa Hai, who was hiding in the crab shell when the water flooded the golden mountains, between my lips and teeth. What I got in return was little bits of blood on my lips.
I want you to go back to the past, but you have to carry your conscience and refuse to meet me, because you want to change everything after this thousand years, and you no longer want to let my heart fall in every reincarnation. Die in front of you. You know that with this change, you will lose thousands of years of your Taoism, so I can no longer predict your news, find your traces, and I don’t know how many reincarnations it will take to meet you.
But only in this way will we have no fetters, no separation of life and death in heaven and earth, and no hope for it. If there is a destiny that can sense you from a distance, we will travel through time and meet beautifully again in the world of blooming flowers.
I will look forward to you and wait for you by the West Lake in the slanting wind and drizzle; and you will still have long hair and fluttering plain skirts. You and I will walk along the broken bridge and Su Di, slender You have been searching for me all the way; I will also look forward to your fleeting gaze blooming into a brilliant lilac in my heart. The clouds of sorrow are getting heavier and heavier, the nightmare is coming again, and my frosty face is stained with tears.
The mist on the lake is shrouded, the sound of the flute at the broken bridge is melodious, and you are gradually getting closer in the distance. You want to escape the curse of this generation, you want to destroy all the Taoism that binds you, and your body as white as jade.
You are calling me: Xu Xian, I will never be separated from you again. Let all grudges be wiped out and let us resume our relationship.
Please believe that no matter how many lives it takes for me to be reborn, I will never forget our meeting on the broken bridge. Let us say goodbye here and stay together in the next life.
The raindrops on the grass tips fell to pieces, lightly wiping the occasional white clouds on the flowers. Standing sadly on the waiting bow, the realgar liquor has torn my heart to pieces and broken my intestines. Your clothes, your face, and your black hair have turned into ashes, gradually dispersing in the misty rain of despair.
I stared at it for the last time, and then fell gently into the West Lake in the drizzle. I can't bear to see you burn to ashes. If the pearl-white jade hairpin I gave you floats on the water, it must be stained with your tears of waiting for me all your life.
I still remember when we met at the beginning of the year, I was walking on the willow embankment, you were rowing on the sparkling blue waves, and I glimpsed your delicate and beautiful face under the umbrella... Looking from a distance, you saw white powder. 5. Love poems about rain, ancient poems
Fish come out in the drizzle, and swallows drift in the breeze. Du Fu's "Water Threshold Calls the Heart"
Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen.
Du Fu's "Joyful Rain on a Spring Night"
I lie down at night listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horse glacier falls into my dream. Lu You's "Wind and Rain on November 4th"
After the new rain in the empty mountains, the weather is late for autumn. Wang Wei's "Mountain Residence in Autumn"
The cold rain came to Wu at night, and I saw off my guests in Chu Shangu in the morning. Wang Changling's "Farewell to Xin Jian in the Furong Tower"
The flying flowers are as light as a dream, and the boundless rain is as thin as sorrow. Qin Guan's "Huanxi Sand"
The sound of wind and rain at night can tell how many flowers have fallen. Meng Haoran: "Spring Dawn")
There is no rain on the mountain road, and the sky is green and people's clothes are wet. Wang Wei: "In the Mountains"
Green bamboo hats, green coir rain clothes, no need to return in the slanting wind and drizzle. Zhang Zhihe: "The Fisherman's Song"
It rains heavily during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road feel like they are dying. Du Mu: "Qingming"
The morning rain and dust in Weicheng are light, and the guesthouses are green and willows are new. Wang Wei's "Sending the Second Envoy of the Yuan Dynasty to Anxi"
The clear water is beautiful when the water is shining, but the mountains are also strange when they are empty and covered with rain. Su Shi: "Drinking from the First Sunny and Later the Rain on the Lake"
Black clouds rolled over the mountains without covering the mountains, and white raindrops jumped into the boat. Su Shi's "Drunken Book at Wanghu Tower on June 27th"
My clothes are wet due to the rain of apricot blossoms, and the willow wind blows on my face without chilling it. "Quequatrains" by Monk Zhinan
In the Four Hundred and Eighty Temples of the Southern Dynasties, there were many towers in the mist and rain. Du Mu's "Jiangnan Spring Quatrains"
Seven or eight stars are outside the sky, and two or three drops of rain are falling in front of the mountain. Xin Qiji's "Moon over the Xijiang River"
The mountains and rivers are broken, the wind flutters the catkins, and the life experience is ups and downs. Wen Tianxiang's "Crossing the Lingding Ocean"
The stormy wind disturbed the hibiscus water, and the dense rain slanted into the Xili wall. Han Yu's "Climb the Liuzhou City Tower and Send to Zhangting to Connect the Four Prefectures"
The big strings are as noisy as the rain, and the small strings are as loud as whispers. Bai Juyi's "Pipa Parade"
The unprovoked rain fell all night long, breaking my homesickness for thousands of miles. Zhang Yong's "Rainy Night"
You asked about the return date but it was not yet scheduled. The night rain in Bashan filled the autumn pond. How can I cut off the candles from the west window and talk about the rainy night in Bashan? Li Shangyin's "Night Rain Sends to the North"
A small building listens to the spring rain all night, and apricot flowers are sold in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty. The bluebird does not convey the message from the clouds, and the lilacs are empty and full of sorrow in the rain. Lu You's "The First Spring Rain in Lin'an"
The sycamore tree and the rain at midnight indicate the bitterness of separation and love. Leaf by leaf, sound by sound, the air drips into the sky. "Geng Liu Zi" by Wen Tingyun There was a thunder under the feet of the tourists, and the crowd was filled with stubborn clouds that could not be cleared away. It was dark outside and the wind blew across the sea, and flying rain came across the river from eastern Zhejiang. Su Shi's "Heavy Rain in Youmeitang"
I haven't heard of the solitary guest all night, I hear the sound of rain in my ears, and there are bananas outside the green gauze window. "Huanxi Sand" by Chao Buzhi
It rained and the wind blew violently last night, and I couldn't get rid of the remaining wine after a heavy sleep. Li Qingzhao's "Like a Dream"
The sycamore trees are drizzling even more, and at dusk, it rains bit by bit. This time, how come the word "sorrow" is so important! Li Qingzhao's "Slow Voice" A young man listens to Yuge upstairs, the tent is dimly lit by red candles. A young man in his prime listens to the rain in a boat. The river is wide and the clouds are low. The wild geese cry out in the west wind. Now, listening to the rain at the foot of the monk's hut, there are already stars on his temples. The joys and sorrows are always ruthless, dripping from moment to moment until dawn. Jiang Jie's "Pop Pops"
The flying flowers are as light as dreams, and the boundless raindrops are as thin as sorrow. ——Qin Guan, Song Dynasty, "Huanxi Sha·Momo Qinghan Goes Up to the Small Building" The wind and rain are miserable, and the rooster crows and crows. Now that I have seen a gentleman, why should I not be barbaric? The wind and rain are blowing, and the rooster crows. Now that I have seen a gentleman, how can I not be frightened? The wind and rain are like darkness, and the cockcrow is endless. Now that I see a gentleman, Yunhu is not happy? ——Book of Songs "Wind and Rain"
Evil! I want to know you and live a long life. There are no mausoleums in the mountains, the rivers are exhausted, the winter thunder shakes the summer rain and snow, the heaven and the earth are united, I dare to be with you! ——"Shangxie" by Yuefu of the Han Dynasty
Far away is the Altair star, and the bright and clear river is a Han woman. The slender hands are used to make tricks. The whole day is unfinished, and the tears are as cold as rain; the river is clear and shallow, how much longer it is! There is a room full of water, and the pulse is speechless. ——"The Faraway Altair" by Yuefu of the Han Dynasty
Li Min and others follow, and once they are defeated, they will be eliminated. Just like water pouring from the east, there is no sun returning to the west. The night raindrops fall on the empty steps, and the lights dimly leave the room at dawn. When we feel sorry for each other, we all stop drinking. When will we get together to share our feelings? ——He Xun of the Southern and Northern Dynasties, "Farewell at night before departure"
I have been thinking about the guest for a long time, and I have traveled thousands of miles alone. The river is dark and the rain is about to come, and the waves are white and the wind is beginning to rise.
——He Xun sent each other off during the Southern and Northern Dynasties. Seeing the moon in the palace looks sad, and hearing the sound of broken bells in the rain at night. ——"Song of Everlasting Sorrow" by Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty
Thousands of miles in Qingcao Lake, one person walks in the yellow plum rain. I am worried about seeing the night mooring on the beach, the sound of the wind turning the waves and the waves hitting the boats. ——Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty, "Lang Tao Sha"
The wind returns to the clouds, the rain breaks off, and the rain begins to clear, and the lakeside is warm and bright again. The red mountain apricot hair is scattered randomly, and the new green water apple is spread flatly. The white wild goose with low wings is still heavy when flying, and the oriole's tongue is astringent, but the oriole's speech has not yet been completed. I don’t know that spring in Jiangnan is not good, as I get sick and lose my mood every year. ——Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty, "Spring Morning in South Lake"
The big strings are as noisy as the rain, and the small strings are as loud as whispers. The bullets are noisy and mixed, and big and small beads fall on the jade plate. ——Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty, "Pipa Parade and Preface"
Red Banjiang Bridge and green wine flag, Guanwa Palace is warm and the sun is setting. Unfortunately, the rain has stopped and the east wind has settled, and thousands of trees are drooping. ——Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty, "Willow Branches" 6. What are the sentences describing oil-paper umbrellas
1. Leaning alone by the window, looking at the bluestone alley at the corner, a long-lost oil-paper umbrella covered the The time is lower than the eaves. ——Bai Luomei "If you are well, it will be a sunny day"
2. In the vast world, you are only devoted to the tender moment under the umbrella. The color of the lake is thousands of hectares, the water waves are cold, the time is cold for hundreds of generations, but under an umbrella, an eighty-four-bone oil paper umbrella with a purple bamboo handle, there are people gathering with each other, and under the umbrella there is the fragrance of the world. Xin, a thousand years of practice is a blank without memory, but a moment under the umbrella is enough to be passed down for thousands of years. ——Zhang Xiaofeng's "One by One Wind and Lotus Lift"
3. "I am a gentleman in Zhezhong. Do you dare to ask the girl her name?" She slightly raised the oil-paper umbrella and looked at him intently with lowered eyes for a long time. The voice is like cool pearls and jade, like a cold hibiscus flower that suddenly blooms: "Yong'an, Qing Jiujiu." - "Hua Xuyin" by the seventh son of the Tang Dynasty
4. One person, one book, A cup of tea, a curtain of dreams. Sometimes, loneliness is so heart-stirring, and only at this moment can things in the world be so calm. The cool breeze blew the pages of the book, and the mist and rain filled the chapters and stories sealed in the book with a moist atmosphere. Leaning alone by the secluded window, looking at the bluestone alley at the corner, a long-lost oil-paper umbrella blocked the light that was lower than the eaves. ——Bai Luomei, "If You Are Well, It Will Be a Sunny Day"
5. The things that circled in my mind before I died were illusions transformed by obsession. The man in Xuanqing robe supported six The fourteen-bone oil-paper umbrella came slowly, and in the blood-stained red field of vision, the unyielding white plum blossoms bloomed on the ridge. ——"Hua Xuyin" by Qi Gongzi of the Tang Dynasty
6. When I first met in the south of the Yangtze River, the fragrance filled my sleeves, the sky was filled with lotus flowers and clear water, and the drizzle sang softly to the romance of the windy and snowy night. The green smoke tells the legend of the grass growing and the orioles flying. Who is wandering in the alley holding an oil-paper umbrella, watching over the handsome young man in her heart? Who is wandering on the misty bluestone slabs, waiting for a girl who looks like a lilac? ——The spring is warm and the flowers are blooming, "If you are well, it will be a sunny day"
7. Last night, my classmates gathered together to drink cups and exchange cups for today's tea and cold wine. The cold and handsome words became a joke. Half a life was exhausted in vain. The inscription is perfect. Who can see seclusion? Oaths and fame are scattered among the mountains and rivers. An oil-paper umbrella is placed on the bluestone by the lakeside. The traveler stops to fold the flowers and gets wet. The silk and satin are all over the trees. The jade petals are so proud. The mist and rain in the south of the Yangtze River are obsessed with the flowers. The flying rain chases them as if they are in the dust. The reason is still chaotic and the flowers are falling in the rain. You are swaying. The fragrance of beautiful flowers brings back the feelings of the past. I am willing to turn into duckweed and lie down in the middle of the lake, just to accompany you. The ripples of the years are reflected in the old wood and sandalwood building. Sutras are chanted in the slow brocade clothes. The sleeves are as wide as the heart. The music of the piano in the forest euphemizes the mountains. Understand my joys and sorrows, tears are falling like rain, and then I realize that the past is cut, and the rain of flowers keeps falling, and the fragrance of your fluttering beautiful flowers brings back the feelings of the past. I am willing to turn into duckweed and lie in the middle of the lake, just to accompany you, the ripples of the years. The rain of falling flowers, you flutter in the evening breeze of heaven and earth. The rush to wrinkle youth is too ruthless. I am willing to turn into quicksand and lie down on the lake embankment, just to accompany you and wait for the turn of spring and summer. The falling flowers and rain are hidden deep in the mountains and rivers. The falling flowers and rain are hidden deep in my heart. ——Xu Song "Between Landscapes"
8. When raindrops are compared with teardrops, oil-paper umbrellas still guard the lights at dusk. ——Original
9. How can I forget the beauty of this city? The cool weather soaked the orchid windows with dew, and a hint of rouge was hidden on the lips. Thousand-year-old legends are still singing softly to the sound of the piano, and the oil-paper umbrellas have turned yellow and the song has not dispersed.
——Yilin
10. He finally stopped, turned around and raised the oil-paper umbrella slightly, half-smiling but not smiling: "So?"
At that moment, it seemed like a cool breeze was drifting from the rain. The fragrance of plum blossoms fills the fox fur and sleeves. It is mostly an illusion that is indelible in the memory. Because it was also such a rainy day, and the rootless water from the sky fell down like beads. As my life passed, I saw a man holding a sixty-four-bone oil paper umbrella walking towards me, walking in the heavy rain of Weiguo, He raised the umbrella slightly, and the blood blurred my eyes, making it difficult to see his face clearly. I often thought that it was an apparition before my death, and I still don’t know if it was actually what I thought. ——"Hua Xuyin" by Qi Gongzi of the Tang Dynasty
11. Under the oil-paper umbrella, whose love words are the end of the world. ——Mei Zi
12. In the light rain and breeze, there is an oil-paper umbrella and an inkstone in Tsing Yi playing the piano. ——Original
13. Poetry and the distance, standing alone in the field with an oil-paper umbrella ——Original
14. Bluestone slab, oil-paper umbrella, heartbroken words, no one can be seen. ——Original
15. A small bridge with a clear lotus and an oil-paper umbrella talks about the south of the Yangtze River in the misty rain. ——Original 7. Poems about gentle breeze and drizzle
1. Ding Fengbo
Author Su Shi, Song Dynasty
On March 7, it rained on the Shahu Road. The rain gear went first, and everyone in the group was in a panic, but I didn't realize it. It's already clear, so I wrote this word.
Don't listen to the sound of beating leaves in the forest, why not just scream and walk slowly. Bamboo sticks and mango shoes are easier than horses, who is afraid? A coop of mist and rain will last a lifetime.
The steep spring breeze blows away the drunkenness, it is slightly cold, but the mountain tops are shining slantingly. Looking back at the desolate place where I came from, there was neither wind, rain nor sunshine.
Translation
On March 7, it was raining on Shahu Road. The servant holding the rain gear had left earlier. Everyone who was traveling with me felt very embarrassed, except for me. I think so. After a while, the sky cleared up, so I composed this poem. Don't pay attention to the sound of rain beating through the leaves in the forest. You might as well walk leisurely while chanting and whistling. Carrying a bamboo stick and dragging straw sandals is lighter than riding a horse. These are small things, so what’s so scary about them?
Wearing a raincoat and letting the wind blow and rain, I still live my life. The cool spring breeze woke me up from the drunkenness, and I felt a little cold. I saw the setting sun on the top of the mountain showing its smiling face. Look back at the place where you have encountered wind and rain, and go back, no matter it is windy or rainy or sunny.
2. In early spring, Zhang Shiba of the Ministry of Water (Part 1)
Author Han Yu Dynasty Tang Dynasty
The light rain on the street is as moist as crisp, and the grass is green from a distance. But no.
The most beautiful thing about spring is that it is better than smoke and willows all over the imperial capital.
Translation
Over the streets of the capital city, there is a heavy rain. The rain is as fine and moist as milk. The grass emerges from the ground. From a distance, the grass color is vaguely connected, but when you look up close, it is not clear. Seems sparse and sporadic. The most beautiful scenery of the year is the scenery in early spring, which is far better than the late spring when the city is full of green poplars.
3. Happy rain on a spring night
Author Du Fu, Tang Dynasty
Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen. Sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently.
The wild paths are all dark with clouds, but the river boats are only bright with fire. Look at the red and wet place at dawn, the flowers are heavy on the official city.
Translation
Good rain seems to choose the right time to fall in the spring when all things emerge. With the gentle breeze, it quietly enters the night. Finely and densely, it nourishes all things on the earth. Thick dark clouds shrouded the fields and paths, and only a little fishing fire on a fishing boat on the river emitted a ray of light, which looked particularly bright.
When daybreak comes, the moist soil will be covered with red petals, and the streets and alleys of Jinguan City will be a scene of colorful flowers.
4. Qingming
Author Du Mu Dynasty Tang Dynasty
During the Qingming Festival, it rains heavily, and pedestrians on the road want to die.
Where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village in the distance.
Translation
During the Qingming Festival in the south of the Yangtze River, drizzle falls one after another, and all the travelers on the road are in despair.
May I ask the locals where to buy wine to drown their sorrows? The shepherd boy smiled and pointed to Xinghua Mountain Village in the distance.
5. Quatrains
Author Zhinan, Song Dynasty
A short canopy is tied in the shade of an ancient tree, and a staff and quinoa help me cross the east bridge.
My clothes are wet with the apricot blossom rain, and the willow wind blows on my face without chilling it.
Translation
I tied the boat under the shade of a tall old tree; I walked across the small bridge with a cane and enjoyed the beautiful spring scenery. The slightest drizzle can't get my clothes wet; it falls on the gorgeous apricot flowers, making them even more brilliant. The breeze no longer makes me feel cold when blowing on my face; it dances the green and slender wickers, which is particularly light.