Poetry describing an alley in the rain

1. Poems about describing ancient alleys

Poems about describing ancient alleys 1. What are the poems about "old alleys"

1. Wuyi Alley

Tang Dynasty: Liu Yuxi

There are wild grasses and flowers beside Zhuque Bridge, and the setting sun is setting at the entrance of Wuyi Alley.

In the old days, the king Xietang Qianyan flew into the homes of ordinary people.

2. Weichuan Tianjia

Tang Dynasty: Wang Wei

The setting sun shines on the countryside, and the cattle and sheep return in the back alleys.

The old man in the wild misses the shepherd boy and leans on his stick to wait for the thorn tree.

There are pheasants and wheat seedlings, and silkworms are sleeping on the mulberry leaves.

Tianfu came to hoe, and we met each other and talked to each other.

This is the time when I am envious and leisurely, and my sadness fades away.

3. Jinling Baiyang Cross Alley

Tang Dynasty: Li Bai

Baiyang Cross Alley, North Jiahu Channel.

There are no people from the Wu Dynasty, but Tang Nian grass grows in the sky.

Heaven and earth were overturned, and the palaces and cities collapsed.

The remaining ancient hills of the Six Emperors, the old woodcutter and Su weep.

4. Return to the garden and live in the fields·Part 2

Wei and Jin Dynasties: Tao Yuanming

There are few people and things in the wild, and there are few martingales in the back streets.

The sun covers the thorns, and the empty room is empty of dust.

At that time, in the middle of the ruins, people were walking around in grass.

When we meet, there are no words, but the road is long.

The days of mulberry and maize have been long, and the days of my soil have been broad.

I am often afraid of the frost coming, and the grass will be scattered and scattered.

5. Traveling in the suburbs

Song Dynasty: Cheng Hao

Walking freely in the green fields of Fangyuan, spring comes in the distant mountains and green surroundings.

Happiness rushes through the willow alley, and I sit on the moss rock near the running water.

Mo Ci drank a lot of wine and was afraid that the wind and flowers would fly away.

The weather is fine during the Qingming Festival, so you might as well travel without forgetting to return home.

2. Poems describing the alleys

The wind in the old alleys always blows unhurriedly. The high walls and carved eaves have been worn away by the years and wind and rain. The scenery, the old houses in the alleys preserve traces of history, but they are located at a forgotten intersection.

The old people sit on the threshold and chat. The stories that belong to them are like fine wine that has been collected in dust. It becomes more and more mellow with each passing year. They spoke loudly and laughed wantonly. Nothing could stop them from being their truest selves.

Children were running around in the alley, playing their games. Fei lived in an old courtyard in an old alley, with a round courtyard gate and a hall for ancestors.

There are houses in the yard, and her family lives in two of them, both of which are very narrow. One room was partitioned off by wooden boards, and outside was the living room, where her parents lived.

There is a curtain in the middle of the other room. Fei and her sister sleep inside, while her brother and sister sleep outside. The kitchen is under the eaves, crowded with people from other families.

At the end of the eaves, there is a small room with a simple wooden board, which is a shower room. There is a toilet in the yard, and people often queue up to use it, so every house has a spittoon under the bed for convenience.

You have to walk through a long alley to get to Feijia. The alley is winding, deep and narrow, with clean stone slabs. Grass pokes its head out from the gaps in the corners of the wall, adding a touch of new interest to the gray, white and black alley.

Fei took me from the road into an alley, then into another alley, and then into another alley again. It made me dizzy, so that I couldn’t find her alone. 's home. There are gaps in the courtyard walls of many old houses. We found one and climbed up the courtyard wall and onto the roof. The tiles made a clicking sound under our feet and raised a small amount of dust.

At first we were afraid of stepping on the old tiles. After a while, we found that these seemingly fragile tiles were actually very strong, so we ran around on them with confidence. , climbed from one courtyard wall to another, and then sat on the highest ridge, looking at the gray old houses and the looming spider web-like lanes below. Those ancient courtyards and ancient masonite alleys contain traces of time, stories of life, and many confusing legends.

We have all kinds of true or false legends about the alleys, some are human, some are monsters, some are demons, some are ghosts, some are beautiful, some are ugly... Let’s verify these. To find out the authenticity of the legend, ask the people around you and explore the places where the stories happened... The alleys are actually very lonely. The elderly and children are imaginary situations that we only appear in the larger alleys. Basically, there is only wind in the alleys. After playing hide and seek with him for a long time, he got tired, so he took a nap comfortably in the shade. Fei and I like to get into those deserted alleys the most. The alleys are narrow and the courtyard walls on both sides are high, blocking out all the light. Only a narrow ray of light leaks above the head.

We like this cold feeling, as if there are only two of us in the world. We wander around in alleys big and small, making ourselves dizzy and getting lost. It was an old area of ??the city, a large area of ??old houses. Between the houses were tiny lanes, criss-crossing like spider webs.

We wandered in the alleys, constantly discovering new alleys, and constantly forgetting the alleys we passed. Sometimes we would pin a small flower on the courtyard door or lattice window we passed, hoping to bring a sense of spring to the people inside; we also wrote a lot of notes and scattered them at the alley when we arrived. , hoping that those notes would carry the wishes in the drift bottle; we also stood at the alley and shouted a name to see if anyone with that name came out, and asked: Who are you? Then we replied: You are... We did all kinds of weird things until we picked up a peach in the alley.

I have always believed that Xizi’s appearance was something that God had already determined. Otherwise, Fei and I would have been wandering in this old alley without knowing how far the end was. We passed by by chance that day, and Xizi stood at the entrance of the alley, looking around, but he couldn't find the direction to go out.

We are good children who are willing to help others. We took him outside and wandered around in the spider web. But as we turned around, we became dizzy, as if we had been walking in the same alley. Even the small ditch beside the courtyard wall was almost the same.

Seeing it get dark, the alley seemed very dark, and there was an evil smell coming from it. Legends about foxes, monsters and ghosts in the old house unfolded in my mind one after another. I started to get scared and held my hand tightly. Her palms were also wet with sweat.

At this time, it was Xizi who volunteered to find the direction and led us out of the maze. Later, we went to that alley again, but we walked out easily. We said that Xizi had a special aura on him, which triggered the aura of an alien space, trapping us in it and causing us to lose track of direction.

But just because we got lost this time, Xizi and we became the Three Musketeers in the alley. Xizi had just graduated from college and was interning in a work unit. Because he wanted to live an independent life, he borrowed a house from a friend and moved to an alley deep in this old district.

I say it is a small alley because it is too small, just small enough for a person to walk through. There is no space at all. Standing in front of it, I feel breathless and oppressive. feel. But after passing through the small alley as small as a intestine, my eyes suddenly lit up. At the end of the alley was an open space, squeezed into the old courtyard wall, with various plants planted, and the green dotted it into this gray-white A paradise in an old housing area.

I really liked the house that Xizi rented. Fei and I would run to him whenever we had something to do, sit on the creaking wicker chairs, and admire the plants that we couldn’t name. Many people in this house have moved away, and the surroundings are so quiet that even the bugs in the corner lower their voices. We either chatter and argue non-stop, or we don't say a word, each quietly pondering our own thoughts. Or stand in a line, squat in the alley where you came in, look up at the sky above your head, and feel the oppressive feeling.

Xizi said that Fei and I are two elves, flying around in the alley rendered in black and white with colorful wings, and he is an old house forgotten at the end of the alley, waiting. We rested on his wall. In fact, Xizi is very familiar with this old district. He has many friends who live in the old district. They have been chasing and running in these alleys since he was a child, not talking about each alley.

3. Poems or ancient Chinese poems about alleys

1. The most classic Dai Wangshu in Yuxiang, Yuxiang, holding an oil-paper umbrella, wandering alone in the long, long and lonely rain I hope to meet a girl who is as sad as lilacs. She has the same color as lilacs, the same fragrance as lilacs, and the same sadness as lilacs. She is sad and wandering in the rain. She is wandering in this lonely rainy alley, holding an oil-paper umbrella, just like me. Walking silently like me, indifferent, desolate, and melancholy. She walked closer and closer silently, and cast a breath-like look. She drifted through the dream-like, dream-like sadness and confusion, like a lilac floating in a dream. This girl floated past me. She was far away silently. She was so far away that the crumbling fence had disappeared. The rainy alley disappeared in the mournful song of the rain. Her color faded, her fragrance faded, and even her breath disappeared. Holding an oil-paper umbrella with eyes as melancholy as lilacs, I wandered alone in the long and lonely rain alley. I hope that a girl with lilac-like eyes and melancholy will drift by. Walk slowly, Walking and stopping 2. Grass and trees in the setting sun, ordinary alleys, where humane slaves once lived.

I think back then, when we were strong and strong, we could swallow thousands of miles like a tiger. 3. Wuyi Alley [Tang Dynasty] Liu Yuxi Wild grass and flowers beside Zhuque Bridge, the sunset is setting at the entrance of Wuyi Alley.

In the old days, the king Xietang Qianyan flew into the homes of ordinary people. 4. The aroma of wine is not afraid of the depth of the alley.

4. Write poetry about the alley

The alley is still so deep

Author: Xitian Feixue

The old house houses the elderly Cough

The pomegranates under the eaves suppressed the red face

Some children began to learn to skip school and smoke

Women who lost their men

In the grass Floating around

She got up earlier

Pushing the stall

Handing over the remaining beauty to trial

The alley is still so deep

Moss is scattered everywhere on the stone slabs

Light, shadow, dust and disputes

Occasionally hear some gossip

Like being The wind blows the underwear to the ground

Rice does not nourish the spirit

An anemic person hallucinates into a dry river at noon

5. Describe the alley What are the sentences?

1. It really corresponds to the sentence that there are homes deep in the alleys, and now there are shops deep in the alleys, with everything you need; the blend of ancient culture and modern culture is everywhere, fully reflecting the The combination of elements from ancient civilization and modern civilization makes the ancient city blocks full of new vitality and adds new style.

2. Standing there alone, everything around me is silent and silent. No matter when I walk into the alley, it is like a quiet dusk, and I can hear clearly My own footsteps. I only vaguely remember: neither high nor short walls blocking both sides of the alley, mottled with moss marks, and strings of green vines hanging on the walls, just like a simple screen.

Inside the wall is a bamboo garden, with lush bamboos and delicate sounds of nature. There are also a few branches of gorgeous peach and apricot flowers, Pingpingtingting, swaying their red sleeves diligently from the top of the wall, as if to me wave. 3. The alley is not long, the north-south passage is only seven or eight hundred meters long.

On both sides of the alley are courtyards made of thick loess, one after another. The yards are of the same height and size. There are more than a dozen houses on one side, arranged neatly. You can't see the houses inside, only the spacious large wooden doors with double leaves, and the green roofs. Smoke from earth chimney.

4. The memory of the alley ferments in the passing years, making a kind of nostalgia more and more clear. The memory of the alley begins to enter the nostalgic history, and is gradually erased by the tall buildings. Ah, the memory of the alley, the eternal topic, is like a song, singing the city's past. 5. I don’t know since when, I fell in love with walking in the alleys. Every time I see the flower stands covered with wisteria at the entrance of the alleys and the mottled old courtyard walls and old hollow windows reflected in the river, the days go by. Now, I suddenly have a special affection for the alleys; I feel as sweet as eating a piece of candy. I am glad that I can live in such old streets and alleys, so that I have a growing sense of satisfaction; I even feel I couldn't help but take out my mobile phone and take a few photos... small bridges, flowing water, quiet alleys, and parapets with willow silk and misty rain.

There is a girl next door who lives in Pingjiang; she has grown up here since she was a child. 6. I held an umbrella and walked in the alley. The alleys in Jiangnan gave people the feeling of being ancient and vicissitudes of life, soaked in mist and rain, poetic, distant yet familiar. Pictures of the alleys would appear in my mind. Such a back figure, holding an oil-paper umbrella, walking in the misty Jiangnan alley, so quiet and quiet, as if the background is removed, and only the sound of rain is heard. 7. The water deep in the alley only flows on the shore of the story , a kind of non-flowering pond grows on the shore of the story.

Baiyuncanggou, are the begonias still there deep in the alley? ! When I stood again on a familiar yet unfamiliar land where more than 4,000 days had passed, my heart was filled with uneasiness. I couldn't figure out whether what I was picking up here would be the joy of seeing old friends again or the frustration of revisiting the old place. 8. I have been walking along the alley. I want to find the lost love, and then lock them in the morning or dusk. In the rivers and lakes of my words, I will create an enchanting love, just to keep it immortal for a lifetime. Happy face. Standing in the alley, looking up at the meter of sunshine in the winter.

My body and my soul are all illuminated by the sun. I began to filter my thoughts, trying to eliminate every imperfection.

9. As time goes by, the alleys grow and spread in my heart... In the alleys, I can retrieve the old memories, and I can try my best to Take a walk casually and comfortably, and you can enjoy the ancient courtyards, as well as the stone bridges and pavilions reflected in the river. As I grow older, perhaps in the years to come, I will be able to enjoy walking in the quiet alleys every day; stand on the bridge and listen to the sound of gurgling water under the bridge.

I will continue to live in my favorite alley and appreciate the ordinary life... 10. The alley is quiet. Stout ancient locust trees and sycamores with purple flowers dot the depths of the alleys. Even at noon in summer, there is a natural coolness and pleasant silence.

A few old people set up deck chairs in the alley, some were shaking cattail fans, and they were telling long family stories in their hometown dialect, or telling stories as twists and turns as the alley. (Welcome to log in, this website is your writing assistant) In his words, there is a sense of tranquility and indifference after experiencing the vicissitudes of life.

A woman with ingenuity would not take a break at noon even after working in the fields for a long time. She would sit on a bamboo stool under the shade of a tree and knit sweaters for her husband and children, always with a smile on her face. With a gentle smile, the days are lived happily with the shuttle of needle and thread. 11. The alley is winding, narrow and long.

I walked from one end to the other. Wear the dew all over your body and face the dim light of the moon.

The alley is secluded, silent and desolate. I move from memory to memory.

With tears in my eyes, I silently count the sadness you have given me. The alley is deep, sad and melancholy.

You go from your heart to your dreams. This road, how I want to meet you.

At the end of the alley, there are no doors or windows. I took the rusty key and tapped on the thick wall.

12. Is that alley on the streets of this city? Maybe somewhere else? I had the same dream for several nights in a row and would always wake up from it around 3am. Can't sleep anymore.

I always think about that alley in my mind. If only my time could stay in that alley and never wake up... 13. My heart is wet by winter rain. It started to dry up under the sun, and there was no melancholy coming. Happiness sang in harmony with my mood in a heartfelt manner. My brows are free of frown.

At this time, I began to read myself. All the time I have passed is not as good as my understanding of myself at this moment. At this time, I am like a poem recited by the years, becoming more and more beautiful.

I began to understand where my life was. Walking along the alley, walking out of yourself and back to yourself, coming and going, just to make your life more satisfying tomorrow.

14. The alley is still a wide loess road, and two leafy Sophora japonica trees are planted in front of each house, replacing the single poplar tree in previous years. You can't hear the crowing of chickens or the barking of dogs, and you can't see the cattle and sheep in the wooden fence outside the courtyard gate. Everything is quiet.

Night has not yet fallen, and the village seems to be sleeping. 15. The door of memory seemed to open at once. The alley was still the same, without any changes. Several children were playing in it. They took off their rain boots, they never held umbrellas, they liked to play in the rain. The alley echoed with the sound of rain. Their playful chases, laughter, and the sound of raindrops being scooped up from the ground. If the rain doesn’t stop, they will go crazy.

6. Poems describing alleys in spring

Poems describing alleys in spring

(1)

The warmth of the east wind, the surge Entering the alley

Wisps of smoke

Hanging willow and goose yellow

(2)

Bark, bark, bark, A few barking dogs

Surrounded

A horse coming from afar

(3)

Small attic, when the window is opened A 'squeak'

A giggle

The wind blows from all sides, in that direction

(4)

Thin and dense Dense rain

Clinking slings

The style of cheongsam and oil-paper umbrella, alleyway

(5)

Along the river ; The rattans on the stone pillars are stretching

The fish are leaping up, and the water in Peach Blossom Pond

is growing wildly