Essays on Jiangnan Dream Prose

Jiangnan Dream Essay 1 Enlightenment/Hooked by a rooster/A wet sunrise/A vegetable washer/A fresh morning washed with a spoon/Fresh and tender/Wet.

The wind waved its long arm/blew smoke/blew staggered/delicious morning light/fell from the mouth of an old farmer.

The rosy peach blossom by the lake is her pink cheek, the clear lake is her eyes like autumn water, the weeping willows accompanying the boat are her graceful figure, and the winding hutongs and alleys are the pulse of her life.

I don't know how many people will see this picture when they mention her: the yellowed Spring Festival couplets are still on the wall, and the words "Peace through the years" can be seen. In front of the house, there is a curved stone bridge across it; Under the stone bridge, a small river meanders; By the river, willows are fluttering; Liu Xia, warm spring mud sleep; In the soil of spring, young grass stands; The grass is dotted with dew; In the dew, sparkling spring is trembling. Neighborhood folks, in such a painting, started a day's life and rushed to sunset. After dinner, all the people, old and young, moved out of the cane chair bench, shook the cattail leaf fan, sat by the river, chattered about school, and the old talked about false teeth. These topics never seem to be boring.

How many passionate literati come here, wearing clear coats and persistent hearts, just to breathe the sweet and waxy air because of her. As a result, many people were fascinated by her appearance of sinking fish and falling geese, and they all expressed their love for her with the sweetest words: "Sunrise is better than fire, and spring is as green as blue" is her dowry; "Four hundred and eighty halls in southern dynasties, misty and rainy terraces" is her boudoir. And "a thousand miles of warblers sing green and red, and the water village is full of wine flags" is her gift to the guests, which carries her gentle and fresh breath all the time.

This is what fascinates her. This is what fascinates her. She is a fresh spring, flowing in the hearts of everyone who meets her, making people forget that indescribable feeling for a long time.

She is my Jiangnan dream.

Essays on Jiangnan Dream Prose 2 Wanderers miss Jiangnan and often call it in their dreams.

West Lake is always in spring, while Jiangnan is sighing.

Hometown is in the clouds, and memories are scattered on Liu 'an.

Years later, can you not remember Jiangnan?

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Xihu chunnuan Feng Chu Yu

At first, the weather was hot and cold, and the spring breeze began. There are few people by the west lake. Willow spits out tender branches and grass stretches out. Xi meets in the sand, and the white snake travels in the spring. The dreamlike south of the Yangtze River is filled with the music of a thousand spring days, and the colorful West Lake in Ana is filled with too much mystery. In the world of mortals, there are countless pairs of footprints that kissed the mud beside the willow tree, and countless pairs of figures that visited the railing of the broken bridge; A pair of slender hands fondled the gentle holy water of the West Lake with regret. Willow waves smell warbler, holding hands to take pictures; Liu Di Zhu Xi, pour out love words; Walking hand in hand on the path of Huagang, leaving a good shadow on the moon in Santan, caressing willow branches at the west cold bridge and reciting poems at the peony pavilion. My dear, in the spring of the West Lake, the warm wind blows frequently and haunts my heart. When I miss you, I look up slightly and watch quietly. The lake is calm, calm. Hehe, that's my dream of Jiangnan with Jun!

Oil-paper umbrella, step by step, watching the water of the West Lake dance in the sky. I feel happy when I fall on my body. Look closely at the pearls dripping from my umbrella. The drizzle does not wet the clothes, but whispers warm the heart. Fireworks in March, grass grows and warblers fly. Who brought my soul to this magnificent waters? The flower umbrella is held in both hands, one in each hand, and you are left and right. Take shelter from the rain under the umbrella, listen to your heart, lean your head on your shoulder and bathe in love. Love is hidden in a secluded lane, and your heart is in my heart. How much do you expect when you look at each other? Can you not feel palpitations! How elegant the spring breeze is all night, the peach blossom rain didn't wet the clothes, and the long drizzle hung in front of my eyes like strings. Who touched my heartstrings, let me chase the wind and dance with flowers, and let me live a dreamlike happiness! There are thousands of pears in my heart, and Xie Liu blows cold and warm air!

Xihu Xiayou Fish Happiness

Small bridges and flowing water, white walls and blue tiles, willow smoke slanting, lotus leaf fields. Clear water fish chat, the bridge bends and people enter the water. You don't say I'm beautiful, just that I'm coming from a poem, with a wisp of gardenia fragrance, and the breeze blows my hair like flowing wicker. We rode along the river in an ark with willow leaves, and our skirts fluttered, sweeping the water, walking through the misty rain and patting the lost days with the sound of oars. The grass is green, the willows are curved, and the dream is Jiangnan; It's dripping, the lane is long, and I'm drunk in Jiangnan. Snuggle up in the charming couple's chair with lush grass and blend into the landscape painting of small bridges and flowing water; Wandering in the beautiful gardens with pavilions and flowers, singing poems and painting, chatting with birds and reading the moon in the water. Short-term separation will also leave a long acacia: short messages urge lotus flowers to shame, love letters fly to the rose show; The phone is turned on with a smiling face, and the dream is in Jiangnan. Who doesn't love Jiangnan? How much misty rain, how much charm, how much running water, how much tenderness. I am a beautiful Jiangnan woman in your heart. In your praise, I turned into a lilac-like fairy flavor, leaving an immortal mark in your heart.

Fill a glass of acacia red wine, lips slightly open, slightly drunk, suspected to be tears in Jiangnan dream. Vaguely stalwart shadow, bright eyes lotus seed heart, intoxicating. The curved moon, faint melancholy, gave Jiangnan women a little misty rain and running water. Let you never walk out of the charming water town, the lingering rain lane, the winding willow and the image of cheongsam. Hum the light, there is no psychological rhyme, let the song go out of tune. Everyone says Jiangnan is good, only you know it.

West Lake hurts in autumn and sunset.

The sky is high, the clouds are light and the autumn waters are long. By the west lake, it's cool. The shadow of the residual lotus is condensed, the fish sinks and the leaves are withered, and the setting sun shines. Dissolved sunlight penetrates the leaves, tearing the light into pieces and scattering it all over the lake, which is messy and slightly cool. From the west wind, a pool of fragments is shining, moving with the wind, sad and beautiful, and my heart is trembling: it is not a gently shaking fragment, it is a fragment of words I left behind, it is a fragment of my lost thoughts, and it is a love melody that worries me. It was swept into the water by the autumn wind, and there was a little ink, a little hesitation, and it was finely broken with the wind. Who will take over when the Iraqis are away? How many words are scattered in the net, how many struggles, how many cultivations, and how many fragrances? I saw the West Lake again in my dream today, and I thought of you in the sunset. Slightly raised his head, quietly watching, tears secretly dripping down. The sparkling lake is still, still. Just those hurtful words. What is broken is the hometown that can't go back. I often dream about the mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River. It's not too cold in winter, but it makes me feel so sad!

West Lake Winter Snow Leaving Home

The snow in the West Lake is dazzling and pale. The blue and white light makes people feel awe. Moving the broken steps, I couldn't bear to step on them gently. A feeling of broken jade reached my heart, accompanied by an amazing crunchy sound, which seemed to break my heart. The broken bridge is covered with snow, but Qu Yuan is still white; Huagang Trail leads to Zhulou, the outer building of Santan silver moon House; Walking through the snow, Xun Mei looked at the West Lake from Lingfeng and Leifeng Pagoda, only to see a vast expanse of whiteness.

Carry your bags, bid farewell to your hometown, and count the snowflakes falling slowly. Your tears, my heart is broken, it doesn't matter if I say them against my will, I will sigh the next generation with a wave of my hand. Move the heavy steps bit by bit, give up the attachment in your heart bit by bit, give up the lingering affection bit by bit, move the sad reason bit by bit, and refuse the spoony excuse bit by bit. Pack your bags, be brave and fly away. Tell my parents that I want to wander around and forget what he looks like. ...

The beauty, dreams and heritage of the West Lake

"Sunrise is better than fire, and spring is as blue as blue, so I can't forget Jiangnan." The agile and elegant bridge in the south of the Yangtze River is installed in the hearts of wanderers, which makes people feel relaxed and happy. Can you not forget Jiangnan? My fair lady in the south of the Yangtze River, walking in the melancholy and graceful misty rain, is fascinating. Can you miss Jiangnan? The charming poems in the south of the Yangtze River have been circulated for thousands of years and are still fragrant, which makes people fondle them. Can you not dream of Jiangnan? Jiangnan's parents leaned against the door, and through their eyes looking forward to the return of the wanderer, people were speechless. Will they miss Jiangnan?

Essay on Jiangnan Dream Essay 3 Early in the morning, there was a breeze and a light rain. Holding an umbrella in the misty rain, staring quietly, looking at the horizon by the lake, slowly putting down the umbrella, the faint rain scattered on me, slowly unfolding my palm, and letting the rain drop between my fingers, as if it were quiet, lively, sad and happy ... I looked up, and the rain wet my bangs, cleverly stuck it on my forehead, and gently hit my cheeks, causing waves. I haven't stood so quietly for a long time.

A rush of footsteps broke the silence. It rained heavily, and pedestrians were rushing home. ...

Oh, that's life. When can I stop to enjoy the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River?

The rain is getting heavier and heavier, like water poured on me, as if I had been washed again and again from the inside out. This feeling makes me involuntarily snorted, hehe, how can this feeling be so cool?

The water column sprinkled on the lake, and the lake was like a light wave, and the water curtain splashed everywhere, as if burying me in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. In that sky, there seems to be a ray of sunshine shining on me in the darkness. Hehe, maybe I'm hallucinating. How can there be sunshine on rainy days? Two lines of grass by the lake swayed gently, as if telling something. ...

After watching for a long time, thinking for a long time, thinking for a long time, I am getting tired. Suddenly, in the drizzle, a figure floated in the distance. When she landed slowly, I saw her holding a plum oil-paper umbrella, wearing a white dress with silk satin in the south of the Yangtze River, green canvas shoes and a cage of blue eyebrows. It looked like she was frowning, frowning and frowning. There is a tent with moss on its head, and a few wisps of moss float in front of it. This situation, this scene, this thing, this person is like a splash-ink painting. What a Jiangnan woman! I've only seen her once in my life!

Her clever eyes seemed to tell me the beautiful scenery of the south of the Yangtze River. She couldn't help reaching forward, but just as she was about to walk to the front, she saw that the woman was moving away from Yu Yuan, and suddenly she disappeared.

Staring at the direction of the woman's departure, I was lost in thought, as if I had just tasted a tea show, which was faint and sweet. Her elegance and dignity make me forget the world, forget the rain, snow and wind, and I just want to indulge in the flashy world with her! Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of her disappearance.

Gaze and sigh, and a woman will not be as good as her. She is Jiangnan. Isn't Jiangnan a painting? Someone once said, "Jiangnan is painting, Jiangnan makes painting, Jiangnan and painting, who is more beautiful than who?" Who is as drunk as who? "Hum: My mind is full of poems and books. Maybe this is the best answer.

Looking at the sky, the rain gradually stopped, looking at the scene of the first opening after the rain, it is another sigh, a wonderful flower, a beautiful pool!

"Morning breeze blow gently, take away?

Who sighs among alfalfa flowers?

The girl stared quietly, thinking about what?

Larks swim proudly in the air, looking for something.

When autumn leaves fall, what withers?

Catkin is flying all over the sky. What's the puzzle? "

I didn't know it was just a gorgeous dream until someone woke me up. It was a misty rain dream in the south of the Yangtze River without worldly vision, falsehood, ugliness and noise!