Antelope City group of poems .

Mondo Fashionable Updated on 2024-01-30

Antelope City (group of poems).

Lingcheng Yumu Gannan, Gansu.

In this highland town where the sound reverberates.

Antelope stepped out of deep footprints.

Leave the yearning all the way to the ancients.

As a result, the gods have become eternal legends.

Put too many yearnings, too many stories.

With a kind of antelope spirit.

In this land of love, the roots began to spread.

Although too much of a shuffle is a thing of the past.

The years also passed.

And in this land of hope.

The people of Lingcheng use the tenacity of the antelope.

With a vigorous pace like a gazelle.

In a long time, I walked out of one.

The hope and happiness that is unique to the people of Lingcheng.

Feel the cultural landscape of Lingcheng.

Experience the life of the people of Lingcheng.

Spread a kind of Lingcheng people's own spirit.

In this vast expanse of grassland.

Only then can we appreciate the delicate fragrance of Gesang Meadow.

Just like the colorful life of Lingcheng people, the happiness of flowers.

Look, that blue sky, who can describe such a blue.

Behold, the clouds that are as white as snow, who in the flawless will give of purity.

The sky kissed Ani Nianqing, and the white clouds hugged the Tongqin Sacred Mountain.

We use the height of Ani Nianqing, the vision of Ani Tunchin.

Let Lingcheng grow and grow in hope.

Towards prosperity.

And tell the world.

The sight of the antelope is not a legend.

Every Lingcheng person.

They are all "jingjing" running on this hot land

Snow chasing rain

In Antelope. It is not possible to determine the season at this time.

There was rain and snow. There are warm suns and storms.

Spring rain in Lingcheng.

Always chased by snow.

Walking can sometimes turn into snow walking.

Traces left behind in the green hills.

Sometimes it's colorful.

Sometimes it's a white patch.

Slow down.

There will always be a slight or heavy imprint.

Regardless of winter, summer and autumn, regardless of wind and rain.

There is always a place that is the most beautiful warmth in memory.

Exclusive. I can't touch it.

Cloud

Grazing as a child. Always like to lie in the grass.

Or the top of a high mountain.

Admire the sky and watch the clouds fly in the sky.

Look at the horizon and watch the sea of clouds rolling.

In the dark. Look at them whispering.

Look at how they plot to make it rainy.

Watch as the wind blows them away.

And debunk their conspiracy.

Under clear skies. Look at the snow-capped mountains where they are piled up.

Look at their changeable postures.

Look at their pure hearts.

Don't be confused. Still like to admire.

Unpredictable clouds in a clear sky.

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