Photography Exhibition of Huaiyang Temple Fair

This spring, the beauty of this ancient tomb temple, this magnificent picture scroll, should start from a poem, a historical myth, and the years when the fingertips flow. Just between the waves, the spring breeze came. A flower blooms, ten thousand flowers echo, butterflies fly in groups, birds sing fresh, and the bells above the branches in Guling convey the good news of spring.

A hundred flowers blossom in spring, and the flowers of Taihaoling Temple come as scheduled, crowded and frolicking. The warm sun, rain and dew, wind and free-walking trees, like the famous chapters in time and music notation, are like dense colorful clouds, looming against the walls and blue tiles.

The quaint courtyard, swaying bamboo wind, fiddling rhyme, fragrant branches all over the road and unexpected drizzle moisten the earth. Dialysis of a peach blossom, just to melt into the folds of ancient books, write down poems that have crossed the Millennium.

Close to the land, listen to the sound of spring, listen to the greenest words, listen to the shouts of the oldest tombs and temples. Sandalwood is faint, lingering in my ears, and I am not in a hurry. Look at the blue waves of Longhu Lake, full of pink and green.

A man who started civilization has been sleeping here for 6500 years. Crowds jostle each other, people wander back and forth, spend time with different people every year ... to worship and seek safety. The incense of sacrifice turned into an Oracle, which achieved the well-being of a place. Looking back at history, I really want to follow the pulse of history, but I can't bear the profoundness of the ages.

The spring flowers in March gradually woke up, the warm wind blew, and the ancient city in April boiled. Thousands of words about spring floated everywhere, and the flower viewing frenzy lingered. At the height of the line of sight, the fragrance spreads again and again, the color of the branches echoes the color of the silk scarf in the cloakroom, and the golden flag unfolds gracefully.

The happiness dormant in the stamens welcomes the sunshine of history with a smile. Godliness is the most beautiful encounter for thousands of years. The meaning of a flower is only surprise. Numerous floral scents endow Taihao Mausoleum with simple and unrestrained elegance. The fragrance is happy-go-lucky, thick and long, with lingering fragrance.

In spring, ten thousand kinds of reproduction, worship in the Dragon Garden, drunk in the Haitang Gallery, in-depth exploration. The blazing fire and burning light and shadow left by Shennong reflect the coming and going of good men and women, scattered between lips and teeth, scattered between stamens, and clearly extinguished. It's a fragrance that lasts for thousands of years.

The flowers are pure, the lake is pure, and the mausoleum temple is pure. Pure Millennium ancient road, pure mosaic vein, pure time flies, pure broad mind. In the depths of the soul, we hold the whisper of spring and count the sleeping time. Open yourself completely in a fragrant wind, dance on the waves, shine in the morning light and stand out from the crowd.

Bend over the grass and listen to the grand sound of spring. Good thoughts, those lush days, the burning grass of the ancient city is desolate and tragic, and plunged into the depths of history. Those crystal dew echoed the swaying of a grass, intoxicated in the depths of history, primitive and fresh.

Bathed in the spring breeze, it is broad, breathable and light, with a faint fresh and distant breath. Who wants to put his soul on the grass tip after a thousand years to listen to the sound of spring and the strongest sound of history? Listen to absolute beauty's singer's dream, and watch the glory of the king when he is armed with thousands of troops.

It has been more than a thousand years since the past. Wei Wu waved his whip, but Jieshi has been left in the East. The bleak autumn wind is today, and it has changed the world. " I am full of emotion, even if I am down and out in the autumn wind, I am strong and unyielding. The moment of the magic ancient tomb, beating the unyielding backbone, planted the glorious and withered years into the immortal surge of life.

At the Dragon Lake, I still feel the cleansing of the cultural heritage of Guling, looking for 8,000 years of impact, 8,000 years of accumulation, 8,000 years of wind and rain, 8,000 years of heroic pride, and 8,000 years of epic with your wonderful pen, depicting a picture of a new era for you.

The first draft of Fenger 20 19 was written in Huaiyang.

Original title: "Standing in Xiling and Listening to the Voice of Spring"

Brief introduction of the author

Ruan Huaifeng, pen name Feng 'er, is a member of Henan Writers Association and Henan Poetry Society. Vice Chairman of Huaiyang Poetry Society, whose works are scattered in newspapers and magazines.

Pay attention to Huaiyang cultural tourism and enjoy a better life.

Text/Yan Huaifeng

Photography/Editing/Zi Xuan