"Words and Aspirations".
Laughing at the ants and asking me what nest I am looking for.
Generous blue sea dancing ochre whales, yellow desert dominance of the green wolf.
The clouds and clouds are raining, and the stones are unprecedented.
With the ambition of thousands of miles in the world, how can it be a lonely guest in Guanshan.
"Repatriation".
It is a sigh that the sound of the ancient sages is overwhelming, and the desk is tossing and turning. The red paper flowers fell into the air, and the green inkstone dust was stacked with hatred. The desert wasteland is a dream of autumn, and the night song of the remnants of Mozi is separated. If it is a thousand autumns to paint empty shadows, teach me to shed tears.
Ancient style "Autumn Grass".
The cold has not disappeared and the clouds have not subsided, and the void is turbulent and gloomy. I can't help but ask about it, and my heart can't stop for no reason. The floating life is tired and miserable, and the joy is not exhausted. He is young and old, and he only dances with smoky and poetic eyes. The autumn grass is also buried, and the water and sky are still a lonely boat.
The ancient style "Spring Sorrow".
Sorrowful like spring grass perched in the cold, and the other country was fluffy overnight.
The secluded stream is clear and the blue waves are clear, and the silver glow is lonely and the moon is bright.
There are no people in the empty forest and Yusheng, and the lonely window is cloudy at night.
Xingyun is intermittent and lingering, and it disturbs the feelings.
Lightly appreciating the capital, I want to wander with the duckweed.
If it weren't for the king's heart to understand this life, the long road would be in vain.
Ancient style "Love".
In ancient times, hatred became hills, and the sun and moon covered the sea.
The sky is barren and sorrowful, and the earth is old and his heart is ashes.
Looking at the world, his eyes are clear, and there is nothing to fly.
Before the ink before the case was exhausted, He Zeng dried up tears in his eyes.
Sigh that I am empty and go thousands of miles, and pity him for being half depressed.
From now on, I miss the king's will, and gaze at the vast expanse a few times.
Seven Laws "Jiang Yin".
The Ming Dynasty distributed Suchuan Luo, and Du Yu cried in Bishan. The title of Yeliujiang is sunset, and the cold waves are fishing. The deserted city is dark and the grass is bright, and the ancient river wind sings twilight songs. The sound of this is gone, and the smoke and water of a river are cold and secluded. The dream of the window is nowhere to be found, and the two hatreds are heavy before the spring returns. Why is the forest bleak green, and the weeping and redness for no reason. The empty courtyard is full of moss, and the dust and tea smoke are light. Misty and sorrowful, from now on I want to be in love.
"Twilight".
Aoki is connected to the quiet alley, and the smoke is cold in the wind. Where does the evening dream perch, the slanting sun is faint and sleepy. Jun's heart moved an inch, and the rest of his thoughts were pulled by his liver and intestines. Worry is like flowing water, and the wind is alone.
Seven words "Huaijun".
The clouds on the ridge cross the sun, and the grass on the rockside declines. Jun goes to the old mountain to be lonely, and you come to smile and the mountain flowers bloom.
Seven words "Dragonfly".
The curved shore is clear, and the yarn wings are cool and hateful. Thin jade waist stained with blue leaves, life is not lovesick.
"Fortune Operator" Hong
The traces are sent to the canopy, and the flowers are nowhere to be found. The secluded high branches feel that the sky is low, and they do not live in low nests. The heart is at the top of the clouds, and the eyes are clear and arrogant. If the spring breeze is not understood, you can also brush your sleeves away.
"Huanxi Sand".
The cold water is slightly blank, the Qingxi Huan hatred is gradually dusk, and the light smoke and fine grass have no sand marks.
Scattered in front of the bleak clear rain, scattered in the sky without heart clouds. The high pavilion is determined to rely on the people.
"Water Dragon's Song".
The clouds and willows are all poems, and the water and wind have lingered since then. The sunset and the moon rise, the smoke in the middle of the night, Zhong Gong is sad, spring goes to autumn, the sundial is secretly changed, and the passing year is lightly thrown. And singing and dancing slowly, drunk and slightly smoky, looking at the streamer, tactful.
Dai's eyebrows are deeply sad, desolate, and tears wet the spring shirt. It has not been seen far away for a long time, the brocade word is unprovoked, and the people's hearts are far away. Lingbo Xiancha, the return journey from the sky, looking forward to it. Thinking of the feelings of the king, when it is close at hand, when it is in the sky.
"Golden Wisp Song".
In this situation of life, don't groan, follow the past, slow and follow the water. The sad song is not full of fish and dragon crying, the white hair and pale face are opposite, and he asks the sea of dust, who can know?Turbulent clouds and torrential rain over the rivers and lakes, in a trance. The end of the world is still haggard, feeling a few degrees, and people are sleepless!
Changxiao spirit all over the river beam, counting the old country, the recent smoke scene, this place is difficult to meet, Honghu fell in one fell heaven and earth, looking back at the mountains and rivers Dream broken, the remnant sun falls, the pride is old, the same life experience is boundless, back to the west wind, entrusted to the smoke and drunk, can't bear to see, hero tears.
"Shizhou Slow".
The sparse empty courtyard, the green locust pu, the light rain passes. Looking forward to the return of the geese, it is the season of sorrow. Empty old words, difficult to send new life miserable, talk about a piece of paper bleak ink. In the past, he was happy, but this time he was depressed.
Disillusionment!The red wall is floating clouds, the green is slightly easterly, and the purple Mo is singing. Stunned and unprovoked tears, for the king to play. This situation has been violated, the mountains and rivers in the old days were in a trance, and the hatred overlapped. If the world is not a dream, how can it become a passer-by?
Siyuan People".
Sitting alone in the dusk in the deep cold, his eyes full of sadness. Qingmen Zimo, cloud soul rain, flowers bloom and fall. When will Jun's heart rest, and his temples have snowed. Affection turns into affection. Floating in a hurry, forgetting the covenant of the previous life.
"Tasha Xing".
Cold rain and cold smoke, clouds and fog. Meng Meng goes to the road and lives. The thatched cottage is lonely and the wind is cool, and the green shade is rich and obscures the eyes. The cool moon has no trace, and the cloud tree has no bones. The pulse is moving. The secluded person is drunk and listens to the rain building, don't ask where to dream tonight.
"Jiang Chengzi".
The west wind is a few degrees Baipingzhou, and the boat on the river is moving away from worries. Sorrow is coming, and the wood is full of wind. The clouds are blowing down the sky, the tears under the eyes, and the sky is flowing.
Shoot all over the pole and rest in your dreams, drink in the cup, and don't worry. A night of white-headedness, suddenly a thousand years later. The history is still there, the old time and the moon are still new.
"The Case of Qingyu".
The return is unprovoked and melancholy, the geese in the sky, and the shadow is desolate. The dust case is still fragrant, chatting and writing, Ying Feng is deeply hidden, depressed and hurt through the ages. The balcony is drunk and the clouds are squinting, and the smoke and haze are disillusioned with who will appreciate it. Sunset brings wine to wash away sorrows. The poetry is heartbroken. What's wrong with getting drunk?Mo Dao, I'm crazy.
"The Tallest Building".
Dongjun crossed again, and the spring sorrow reached the center of the lake. The wind from the south is wrinkled. High-rise buildings are full of flying swallows, and the causeway wanders alone. Void, Lingbo, like condensing dust.
The blowing can't be dispersed, and the smoke is as sad as promised. I can't look forward to it, and there are no clouds in the sky. Seek the way, and dusk. The bleak grass is at the end of the world, like smoke and fog, and the soul is broken. A thousand loves, a pillow of dreams, without a trace.
"Butterfly Loves Flowers".
The vast moon sinks into the west window tree, the secluded steps and cold eaves, and it seems to hear the language of double swallows. Zhangtai can't bear to take care of the road, and it is a desperate place to rely on it.
In the middle of the night, the wind is cold and the water is singing, and I suddenly feel the smoke and entertainment, and I sit and feel fragrant. The eternal night is cold and leaky, and the five more remnants of the dream are raining.
"Bodhisattva Man".
The east wind blows the shadow of the temples, and the distant river shakes the sword and the light is cold. The smoke of the broken bridge is cold, and the sky is clear and blue. The moon is near, and the lights in the dark window are sleepy. Sitting alone in the middle of the night, the dew wets my heart.
"Queqiao Immortal" Jiuque
one
Every year, the Magpie Bridge returns.
Look at the empty sail far away. The two places are separated from smoke and water.
When I go, how to cross the rivers and lakes.
Sad at the bottom of the cup, tears in my heart.
Gloomy resignation. The past and the old things are obscured.
After saying goodbye, the sky is full of wind and dew.
II. II. II
A courtyard of cold moon, half a corridor flower courtyard.
The black magpie is an ordinary alley. The festive season is empty.
endure and live up, and the hairpin is scattered.
Ling Bo Weizhu, morning glory secretly crossed.
Looking at the galaxy desert from afar. A good night and a good day must be intoxicated.
Happy to meet, but also relieved.
Three
The clouds fade and the wind converges, and the candle dragon drives lightly.
Queqiao pulse hand in hand. The secret words are hard to drown and the night is sad forever.
At this time, the dinner party is cool.
Love across the river, soul broken silver sea.
Frost tide jade pot dripping. The road of parting in heaven and earth.
Don't look back, the intestines are still broken.
Four
The clouds bury the city, and the sandbar lives in a dream.
The sky is full of wild geese. The desert is deep and the tide is surging.
The cold water enters, and the Guan River gets colder.
The Northern Lights are cold, and the star map is lightly spread.
The dome is a little empty. Thousands of dust were relieved.
Qinghui is here, introspective.
Five
The Milky Way is wounded, how can it be a cow girl.
Bleak autumn to peace. The magpie bridge once flew again.
Sorrowful, the wind and moon are disappointed.
The long howl is still forbidden, and the wings are stretched and bound.
The blue sky is heavily blocked. Yingyan Yan knows the clouds and the road is far away.
He is too bitter, and he is depressed for eternity.
Six
The Milky Way is wounded, how can it be a cow girl.
Bleak autumn to peace. The magpie bridge once flew again.
Sorrowful, the wind and moon are disappointed.
The long howl is still forbidden, and the wings are stretched and bound.
The blue sky is heavily blocked. Yingyan Yan knows the clouds and the road is far away.
He is too bitter, and he is depressed for eternity.
Seven
The flowers are separated, and the remnants of the dream on the floor are still broken. The weather is cold and thin, who comforts the old warbler swallow, the water flows and the clouds disperse, the sails are empty and the moon sets, and the wine wakes up and people are far away, only the song is broken and graceful. This meaning is to be written on cloud notes only to be sent, a little lovesick.
Eight
A placket clears up tears, and a few lines of residual ink are counted over the years. The heart of his life is gone, the mountains are high and the mountains are wide, the eyebrows are cut, and the stars and the moon are the color of the city. The dignified years go like shuttles, and people are finally lonely.
Nine
The frost is cold and Jinghua, and the bluebird on the sea in autumn flies alone. It is difficult to count the dew in the world, how much is the hatred and fame, and it is difficult to send the magic pen to the flowers. Xiao Xiao spread out to the sky and the moon, sighing and getting old.
said that he regretted his old and little work, and accidentally turned out the poems he wrote more than 20 years ago, but Ma Xinyang was pleasantly surprised by himself. Yesterday we were resting on the bed with our heads on both sides, and she excitedly sighed at her talent and asked me to read her few works. I'm lazy to say that I'm really not interested in the stuff that worries about new words. She was forced to recite it with emotion
Fortune operator" The traces of the hung are sent to the cangwu, and the flowers are a little nowhere to go. The secluded high branches feel that the sky is low, and they do not live in low nests. The heart is at the top of the clouds, and the eyes are clear and arrogant. If the spring breeze is not understood, you can also brush your sleeves away.
When I heard it, I couldn't help but feel good from the bottom of my heart, "I've taken it, but you can't write it now." She didn't talk to me this time, sighing, "I can't write ......."”
Yes, poetry and wine take advantage of the youth. That young and frivolous young man with lofty ambitions is now also beaten by life and is physically and mentally exhausted, no better than me who is empty at the moment.
While she was smirchanting and sighing as if she were in a different world, I went back to my childhood to see the two little girls who were born with a rebellious temperament. One is arrogant and shy, the other is wild and straightforward, but the same affectionate and far-sighted ......
She was luckier than me, on the right path, and seemed to have a vague idea of what she wanted and how to fight for it. With my own strength, I have worked hard all the way. The power that came from nowhere, not only did he never doubt his "born to know", but he also saw more clearly and walked with certainty.
Read her poems, look at her paintings, and know her temperament. The more frustrated she became, the more courageous she became, I was defeated and fought repeatedly, and my life was disillusioned and vain, since I had "me" and since I was alive, I had to be worthy of this "talent".
I am too calm and sober by nature, and I often insist on going my own way, and I am suddenly ...... in the moodFortunately, there is such a sister who loves and kills each other. The two of them fought, and I didn't have the elegance of Boren laughing and saying, "Anu fire attack, solid out of the next ear", fortunately, I can't break up, at least there are each other all these years. She is at sea, and I live in Jinghua. Looking at each other from afar, sympathizing with each other. Calligraphy and painting have the same origin, but they are also peaceful.
Today she returned to Shanghai, I was alone at the tea table to read her wonderful words in those wonderful years, reminiscing about our humble and proud Chinese years, and she was moved by herself, and her mood was full of vitality.
The frost is cold and Jinghua, and the bluebird on the sea in autumn flies alone. It is difficult to count the dew in the world, how much is the hatred and fame, and it is difficult to send the magic pen to the flowers. Xiao Xiao spread out to the sky and the moon, sighing and getting old. ”
On February 15, 2023, Ma Xiao started in Xiaotaoju
Art resume
Ma Xinyang
Also known as Ma Xiaoqing.
His ancestral home is Qingdao, Shandong. He is a Ph.D. from the Chinese Academy of Fine Arts, an associate professor of the Department of Chinese Painting of the Shanghai Academy of Fine Arts, a master's tutor, a specially invited painter of the Chinese Academy of Painting, and a director of the ** National Artists Association. The published books include: "Masterpieces of Chinese Painting Masters - Ma Xinyang's Freehand Flowers and Birds", "Yunshui Heart", "Leisurely Walk", "Mo Shang Flowers Bloom" and so on.