Poems about Kuanzhai Lane

A poem describing Gu Xiang 1. What are the poems about "Old Alley"?

1 .Wuyi Lane

Tang Dynasty: Liu Yuxi

There are some weeds blooming by the Suzaku Bridge, and there is only sunset at the corner of Wuyi Lane.

Swallows under the eaves of Wang Dao and Xie An have now flown into the homes of ordinary people.

2. A farmhouse by the Weihe River

Tang Dynasty: Wang Wei

Sunset shines on the market, and cattle and sheep go home along the path.

A rugged old man in a thatched door leaned against a cane and thought about his son, the shepherd boy.

There are whistling pheasants? Full ears of wheat, sleeping silkworms and peeled mulberry leaves.

Jojo and Fu Tian greet each other cordially.

No wonder I long for a simple life and sigh the old song, oh, back to the past! .

3. Jinling Baiyang Cross Lane

Tang Dynasty: Li Bai

The Baiyang Cross Lane in Jinling is the entrance to the river in the north.

Wu Guoquan in the Three Kingdoms period was finished, and now only the Tang Dynasty is green.

The world changed greatly, and Gong Wei of Wu fell ill.

There were only a few earth cloth bags in the Six Dynasties, and the former nobles are now crying woodcutters and mulberries.

4. Second, go back to the garden.

Wei and Jin Dynasties: Tao Yuanming

There are few chariots and horses in the secluded places when the countryside makes friends with the secular world.

This day is still Chai Men closed, and the pure mind blocks the vulgar thoughts.

When complex market music, grass * * *.

When we meet, we don't talk about worldly affairs, only that the garden is long in Sang Ma.

My field is growing higher and higher, and my cultivated land is expanding day by day.

Often worried about sudden frost, crops wither like shrubs.

Do what you want in the suburbs.

Song Dynasty: Cheng Hao

I enjoyed myself in Ye Yuan, where the grass grows like flowers, and saw that spring has come to the mountains, surrounded by green.

Chasing the red petals of the wind in the breeze and passing through the swaying alleys; When he feels sleepy, he sits on a mossy stone and rests by the stream.

Sue shouldn't refuse this cup of wine, and don't let the most sincere heart drink it. I'm afraid the wind will blow flowers and pieces will fly everywhere.

Besides, it's Tomb-Sweeping Day today, and it's met with fine weather. It's very suitable for sightseeing, but you can't leave.

2. Poems describing alleys

The wind in the old alley is always blowing slowly. High walls, carved eaves, years and wind and rain have worn away the scenery of that year. The old house in the alley preserves traces of history, but it is located at a forgotten intersection.

Old people sat on the threshold chatting. Those stories that belong to them are dusty wines, which become more and more mellow with the passage of time. They talk loudly and laugh wildly, and nothing can stop them from being their truest selves.

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

There are rooms in the yard, and there are two in her family, both of which are very narrow. A room is separated by wooden boards, and outside is the living room, where her parents live.

There is a curtain hanging 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 and crowded with others.

At the end of the eaves, there is a small room made of simple wooden boards, which is the shower room. There are toilets in the yard, and people often queue up, so there are spittoons under each bed for convenience.

It's a long flight home. The alley is winding, deep and narrow, and clean slate and grass protrude from the gap in the corner, adding new interest to this gray-black alley.

Fei took me from the road into an alley, then turned into another alley, and then turned into another alley, which made me dizzy, so that I couldn't find her home alone. Many old houses have gaps in their walls. We found one, climbed up the wall and roof, and the tiles clicked under our feet, raising a little dust.

At first, we were afraid of crushing the worn tiles. After a long time, we found that these seemingly fragile tiles were actually very strong, so we ran around them with confidence, from one courtyard wall to another, and then sat on the highest roof, looking at the gray old house and the looming spider webs under our feet. Those ancient courtyards and linen alleys contain traces of time, stories of life and many confusing legends.

We have all kinds of legends about alleys, true or false. There are people, demons, ghosts, beautiful and ugly ... Let's verify the authenticity of these legends, ask people around us and explore the place where the story takes place ... The alley is actually very lonely. Old people and children are imaginary situations, and they only appear in relatively large alleys. In the alley, basically only the wind accompanied them. Fei and I like to walk into those deserted alleys best. The alley is very narrow, and the walls on both sides are very high, blocking all the light, except a narrow ray of light leaking from the top of the head.

We like this cold feeling, as if there are only two of us in the world, and we are wandering in the alley, dizzy and lost. Is the old city, big old houses, between houses, are alleys, like cobwebs, criss-crossing.

We wandered in the alleys, constantly discovering new alleys and constantly forgetting the alleys we passed. Sometimes we will put a small flower on the passing courtyard gate or lattice window, hoping to bring a touch of spring to the people inside; We also wrote a lot of notes scattered in the alley where we arrived, hoping that those notes could bear the wish of drifting bottles; We used to stand in an alley and shout a name to see if anyone by that name came out and asked, who are you? Then we replied: you are ... we did all kinds of strange things until we found the calligraphy in the alley.

I have always believed that the appearance of Chinese calligraphy is something that God has already doomed. Otherwise, Fei Hui and I have been wandering in this old alley, never knowing how far the end is. We passed by occasionally that day, and Xizi stood at the corner of the alley and looked around, but he couldn't find the way out.

We are good boys who are ready to help others. Take him out and wander in cobwebs. But as soon as we turned around, we turned ourselves dizzy, as if we had been walking in an identical alley, and even the small ditch next to the courtyard wall looked similar.

Seeing that it was dark, the alley looked very dark, and there was a bad smell coming on my face. Legends about foxes and monsters in the old house spread out in my mind one after another. I began to be afraid, flying tightly, holding my hand, and her hands were all wet and sweaty.

At this time, Xizi volunteered to find the direction and took us out of the maze. Later, when we went to the alley again, it was easy to come out. We say that Chinese calligraphy has a special smell, which triggers the aura of inner senses, traps us in it and leads to confusion.

But just because we got lost this time, Xizi and I became three musketeers in the alley. At that time, Xi Zi had just graduated from university and was an intern in a company. Because he wanted to live independently, he borrowed a house from a friend and moved to an alley deep in the old district.

It's called an alley, because it's too small, just small enough for a person to walk through, with no gap at all. Standing in front of it, I feel breathless and oppressive. However, when I crossed the narrow alley, my eyes suddenly lit up. There is a clearing at the end of the alley, crowded in the old courtyard wall, planted with various plants, and full of green is dotted into a peach blossom garden in this gray old house area.

I like the house rented by Xizi very much. Fei and I ran to find him when we had nothing to do, sitting on the creaking rattan chair and admiring the plants that couldn't be named. Many people in this house have moved away, so quiet that even the insects in the corner lower their voices. We either chirp, argue endlessly, or say nothing, each quietly savoring his own thoughts, or queuing up in the alley that came in, looking up at the sky overhead and feeling that kind of depressed feeling.

Fei and I are two elves, flying around the alley with colorful wings in black and white rendering, and he is a forgotten old house at the end of the alley, waiting for us to rest on his wall. In fact, Xizi is very familiar with this old district. He has many friends who live in the old district. He has been chasing and running in these alleys since he was a child, saying nothing to every alley.

3. Poems or old sayings about Hutong

1. The most classic Dai Wangshu holds an oil-paper umbrella in the rain lane. A person lingers in a long, lonely rain lane, hoping to meet a girl with a lilac knot. She is lilac-like color, lilac-like fragrance and lilac-like sadness in the rain. She wanders in this lonely rain lane, holding an oil-paper umbrella. She is as cold, sad and sad as I am. She was also relieved. She drifted through a dreamlike sadness and confusion. Like lilacs floating around me in a dream, the girl drifted away quietly and far away to the decaying fence. The rain lane disappeared in the sad song of the rain, her color dispersed and her fragrance dissipated. Even her sighing eyes and lilac-like melancholy walked alone for a long time with an oil-paper umbrella. A long and lonely rain lane, I hope to float across a girl with a lilac knot. (1) 【 partridge (Chù chù) 】 Walk slowly, stop-and-go. 2. Grass trees in the sunset, ordinary alleys, and humanitarian slaves once lived.

Looking back, how powerful he was when he led the Northern Expedition and recovered lost ground! 3. Wuyi Lane [Tang] Liu Yuxi, next to Zhuque Bridge, has weeds and flowers, and Wuyi Lane has an oblique sunset.

Swallows under the eaves of Wang Dao and Xie An have now flown into the homes of ordinary people. 4. the smell of wine is not afraid of the depth of the alley.

4. Write a poem about an alley

The alley is still so deep.

Author: flying snow in the west

This old house accommodates the old man's cough.

The pomegranate under the eaves blushed.

Some children began to learn to skip class and smoke.

A woman who lost a man.

Floating around on the grass

She got up earlier.

Push booth

Hand over the remaining faces for trial.

The alley is still so deep.

Moss and slate were scattered all over the floor.

Is light, shadow and dust right or wrong?

Occasionally hear some gossip

Like underwear blown to the ground by the wind

Rice has no spirit of feeding.

Anemic people will hallucinate a dry river at noon.

5. What are the sentences describing the alley?

1. I really should say that there are people in the depths of the alley, and now there are shops and everything in the depths of the alley; The blending of ancient culture and modern culture is everywhere, which fully embodies the combination of ancient civilization and modern civilization elements, and makes the ancient city block full of new vitality and add new features.

When a person stands there, everything around him is silent. Whenever I wander in an alley, like a quiet evening, I can clearly hear my footsteps. I only vaguely remember: high and low walls blocked both sides of the alley, mottled moss traces, strings of green vines hanging on the wall, just like a quaint screen.

There is a bamboo garden in the wall, with dense bamboo cultivation and delicate sound, and a few proud peach blossoms and apricot flowers, graceful and graceful, waving tea politely from the wall, as if waving to me. 3. The alley is not long, and the north-south passage is seven or eight hundred meters.

On both sides of the alley are thick loess rammed courtyards, one attached to the other. The yard is the same height and size, and more than a dozen families are neatly arranged on one side. Only spacious wooden doors, double fans, and earth chimneys with smoking roofs.

4. The memory of the alley, fermented in the past years, makes a homesickness more and more clear. The memory of the alley began to enter the nostalgic history and was gradually erased by high-rise buildings. Ah, the memory of the alley, the topic that is not old, is like a song that sings the past of this city. I don't know when it started, I fell in love with walking in the alley. Every time I see wisteria-covered flower stands, mottled old courtyard walls and old hollowed-out wall windows reflected in the river, I have a special feeling for the alley for a long time. There is a feeling as sweet as eating a candy. I am glad that I can live in such an old street and have a sense of satisfaction. I even involuntarily took out my mobile phone and took some photos of small bridges and quiet alleys; Wicker rain railing.

There is a woman living in Pingjiang next door; I grew up in this carriage. I walked in the alley with an umbrella. The alleyways in the south of the Yangtze River give people the impression that they are old and slightly vicissitudes, immersed in misty rain, poetic, distant and familiar. In my mind, there will be such a figure in the picture of the alley, walking in the foggy Jiangnan alley with an oil-paper umbrella, so quiet, so quiet, as if only the rain was heard in the background. 7.

Baiyun Canggou, is Haitang still deep in the alley? ! When I stand on a familiar and unfamiliar land that has passed more than 4000 days, my heart is full of anxiety. I can't understand whether it will be the joy of reunion of old friends or the depression of revisiting old places. 8. Lane, I have been walking along it, I want to find the lost love, and then lock them up in the morning or dusk, and create an enchanting love in the rivers and lakes of my words, just to leave an immortal smile. Standing in the alley, looking up at the sunshine of one meter in winter.

My body and soul are in the sun. I began to filter my thoughts, trying to get rid of every inch of defects.

9. After a long time, alleys breed and spread in my heart ... In alleys, I can find old memories, take a walk as comfortably as possible, and enjoy the ancient courtyards and the stone bridges and pavilions reflected in the river. With the growth of age, perhaps in the years to come, you can enjoy walking in the faint alleys every day; Standing on the bridge, I listened to the gurgling water under the bridge.

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

Three or two old people, posing as recliners in the alley, shook their cattail leaf fans one by one, pulling their long family life with local accent, or telling stories as tortuous as the alley. (Welcome to login, this site is your writing assistant) In words, there is tranquility and remoteness after the vicissitudes of life.

A clever woman refuses to rest at noon even after working in the field for a long time. She pulled a bamboo stool and sat in the shade knitting sweaters for her husband and children. There is always a gentle smile on her face, and days are full of flavor in the shuttle of needle and thread. 1 1. The alley is winding, narrow and long.

I walked from one end to the other. Face the moonlight with dew.

The alley is faint, silent and desolate. I remember one memory after another

I silently counted the sadness you gave me with tears in my eyes. The alley is deep, sad and melancholy.

You move from your heart to your dream. This road, how I want to meet you.

At the end of the alley, there are no doors or windows. I knocked on the thick wall with a rusty key.

12. Is there that alley on the street in this city? Maybe somewhere else? I have the same dream for several nights in a row, and I always wake up from my dream at around 3 am. I can't sleep anymore.

I always think of that alley in my mind. If only I could stay in that alley and never wake up …13. My heart wet by the winter rain began to dry up in the sun, without melancholy, and I happily sang my mood with all my heart. My brow, remove the frown.

At this point, I began to read myself. After so much time, I might as well read myself now. At this time, I am like a poem recited by years, becoming more and more witty.

I began to understand where my life was. Walking in the alley, walking out of yourself, walking back to yourself, coming and going, just to make tomorrow's life more complete.

14. The alley is still a wide loess road, and two leafy locust trees are planted in front of each house instead of a poplar tree in previous years. I can't hear the crowing of chickens and dogs, and I can't see the cattle and sheep in the wooden fence outside the courtyard. Everything is quiet.

The village seemed to have fallen asleep before nightfall. 15. The door of memory seems to open at once. The alley is still the same alley, and nothing has changed. Several children are playing in it. They take off their rain boots. They never take an umbrella. They like to play in the rain. The alley echoed with their playful chase, laughter and the sound of rain being picked up on the ground. If it doesn't stop raining, they will go crazy, too.

6. Poems describing spring alleys

Poems describing spring alleys

( 1)

The warmth of the east wind poured into the alley.

Plumes of smoke

Willow goose yellow upside down

(2)

Bark, bark, bark at some puppies.

alternately

Dada's horse comes from far away.

(3)

Small attic, when pushing the window, it makes a' squeak'.

A giggle

The wind in all directions, in that direction

(4)

Fine rain

Dingding marble

Cheongsam and oil-paper umbrella, the amorous feelings of the alley

(5)

Along the river; The vines of the stone pillar frame are extending.

Fish jump, the water in Taohuatan

Growing like crazy.