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Spread in the space of poetry.
Scarlet Cloud is a poem that has just been written.
But what I want to write about is that it is next to Mochou Lake in Jianye.
Green, getting thicker and thicker.
We still love each other because of this beautiful city.
I dive into the beautiful details of life.
Each stack of waves confesses to the sky in a new day.
Simple, clear and soft.
In exchange for the poetry of a city.
Following the pace of the years, it slowed down.
Stop by the lake and listen to the sounds of nature.
Oh, my footprints overlap with the poet's footprints, poetic resonance.
Stacked on the heart lake, this is the blowing of the painting, the green light.
stained on my body.
Here, the grass is green and the breeze is cool, and the birds sing and the cicadas chirp.
It sublimates the true meaning of life, and in the mist, fixes the quiet watch.
Mochou Lake, my run.
Every day, every moment, every second.
Encounter with Mochou Lake in this way.
Blowing and blowing.
Fly and fly.
Singing and singing.
We each said our own repertoire, and we connected the singing of the new era.
The beauty of time is engraved in the infinite vastness.
That funny soul, running with joy.
The whole city is turned into a green grassland.
The morning sun rises in the east, and every inch of golden light shines beside me.
Immersion, lyricism, depiction.
Mochou Lake, all the praises seem redundant.
All the love is just satisfied.
I am small, inhabited in an ancient painting, and I am a negative oxygen ion.
It's the fireflies, it's the water that goes around the heart.
Lakeside at sunset.
Blissfully happy, we strolled.
Hand in hand, a poem accompanied by the sound of a piano.
Echoing on the surface of the lake. O oarsman.
Tell quietly for Mochou Lake, you and I have found the address of our hearts.
Like a flying waterfowl.
Waiting in the wind of a thousand years.
Oh, my Mochou Lake, the rhetorical good years.
Give her love and singing.
My trip was long and my horses were intoxicated.
Clenched her tears in the palm of her hand.
Put aside the wind and rain at this time at the previous intersection.
My heart, confession.
My eyes, gazing affectionately.
Mochou Lake, as well as spring, summer and autumn.
It's all in my book.
I'm trekking, thousands of miles, thousands of miles.
I'll be back, Mochou Lake is like a postmark.
Cover it in the palm of my hand.
As soon as I spread it out, I saw-
In the spring, there are flocks of cattle and sheep, and birds linger around me.
In those slow days, a letter I sent has arrived.
At her door, a row of French plane trees is planted.
Oh, the season of color.
How peaceful. Ah, thy mysterious voice, dyed and doubled by love.
Grow in the twilight that reverberates and fades away! ”
On the shore of Mochou Lake, my footprints are there.
Every inch of your heart.
Everywhere I looked, it was a sight to behold.
I write poetry by the lake.
I praise Mochou Lake.
Lyrical, singing, and sparkling tears.
Turning into a trace of concern and tenderness, I want to dedicate pages and lines of poetry to my lover.
She loves nature, and she is the gentle waves on Mochou Lake.
The sun shines brightly on her.
I hugged her, and a cloudy mood flew out of my body.
Merge with the breeze as a whisper.
Those beautiful words become more elongated in the air.
On the shore of the lake, I whispered my love, stained with the fragrance of poetry.
Deeply moved, in the moment you look back.
Oh, the lens of love is slowly being pushed closer.
In my dreams. Retain moisture and melt the colours.
The beauty of a city is decorated in a place name that haunts the soul.
Jian Ye, Jian Ye——
Space travel, time deduction.
The pattern of the Dawn structure is today, and the three-dimensional level is increasing.
In the early morning with a deep breath, the outline of Jian Ye is outlined along the petals.
The near scenery blurs into the distant style.
In Jianye, in the soft praise.
Arrive at the pages of colorful and colorful poems.
Stepping on the point of water sound and country sound, compose the Chinese chapter of herbs.
The encounter between thousands of mountains and rivers has just begun.
I incarnate a spring breeze.
In the time of Mochou Lake, the symbol of arrival is engraved.
I love the fluid form.
And in this way, he found the refuge of poetry.
Along with the breeze, it is the waves.
Spread out with the morning light, it is a golden brush and ink.
Add a brilliant and tranquil to Jianye in the new era.