There are poems about Peking Opera masks.

1. What are the poems about "Facebook"

1. BLACKPINK's face in the Spring and Autumn Period of Peking Opera is painted, and the wind, thunder, lightning and stripes are soaring.

Red, yellow, blue and purple are sacred, while white, green, silver and gray paint ghosts and demons. The phoenix is full of clouds and brocade, and the bees are dancing around butterflies and apricot flowers are floating.

three distinct mandarin duck tiles, which are sold after iron makingo is washed. 2, Peking Opera facial makeup (1) Sometimes the facial makeup is too clear, and sometimes it is difficult to distinguish between loyalty and treachery. Although some people have painted facial makeup, although some people still look kind without facial makeup, I still rub my eyes and don't let the sand blur my vision.

3. Dolton, who has a blue face, steals Guan Gong, who has a red face, fights Guan Yu, who has a yellow face, and Dian Wei, who has a white face, and Cao Cao, who has a black face, chirps ... The purple king holds the pagoda, the green devil fights the hag, the golden monkey king, the silver monster, and the gray elf laughs ... The vivid Yuanyang tiles, the vivid living bodhisattvas, the little by little, exaggerate the beauty of the faces. 2. Do poems about Facebook

have to be poems? I think the lyrics with Facebook are also good. For example, on the day when I sang Facebook, my grandfather took me to see Beijing Opera. I saw a lot of faces with big faces, red, white, yellow, green, blue, blue and oily on the stage, and I sang and shouted wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow To tell you the truth, Peking Opera facial makeup was really beautiful to sing. It was all dialects, and I couldn't understand how to listen to it slowly. I was accompanied by a band for a long time. How can it keep up with the times and trends to attract contemporary young people? Purple heavenly kings hold pagodas, green devils fight hags, golden monkey kings, silver monsters and gray elves laugh ... Ah ... My grandfather is angry and says that I'm just messing around. Beautiful and wonderful art, Chinese treasures, even foreigners clap their hands and applaud, praising students, singing at the end of the day, practicing martial arts as thugs, it's really not simple. Grandpa, who doesn't know opera and nonsense, turns his beard straight to his face. Grandpa, don't be angry. Allow me to argue that even eating delicacies and delicacies will annoy art and the times. It is necessary to innovate and develop ... Let all the old men and women love to watch the national heritage handed down from generation to generation. Bright Yuanyang tiles, groups of vivid living bodhisattvas, pen by pen, exaggerating the beauty of faces ... ah ... ask: thank you. 3. What are the poems about Beijing opera?

Facebook career

The man

holds his pen up, his face in the mirror

is half bright and half indigo

Someone is at the front desk. Or sing or do

a few whistles and cheers

the lights turn dim and you can't see the true colors

things have their own rules

The man said, "I'd like to hear the details."

I feel the silky lining

with a paper flower at my temples

so I

sketch my face in the light shadow

(What is the real thing? Obviously, I can't see my face clearly in the mirror, that is, in the play. I saw Facebook clearly)

Suddenly I looked up, the piano sounded clear and clear

A beautiful mustache was spinning

The stage and curtain were moving

A quarter of noon

A few stones and sandbags

Boys and girls dressed up

A quarter of noon

A generation of kings were buried under Facebook

He chose the tragic image. On the side

flesh and bones sitting on the chair

the man waved his whip and gradually became

a horse, and several gestures were

tied into a ball of reins

the man raised his sleeves and gradually became

a city, and no one in the city

retreated many enemy soldiers

The man bent over his desk and gradually became

a book. Burning the tranquility of a TV set

Facebook and Facebook scurry away

I'm down and out singing A Night Run

Natural beauty is still a guest with bald heads

I'm full of rich colors, and slowly

every word reveals desolation and loneliness

(The big night is my background

I'm me, not you in Facebook <

There are endless conspiracies backstage

The drama is always so sad

The distance in the play is not the real distance

Is the soul in the body the only soul

I can't see you with tears in my eyes

The people on the stage walk lightly

Like a pine forest with the wind blowing through the night

A red silk dress, The shining emerald

that person has a lifetime reputation

that pale and thin person

whose name represents a kind of voice

that person lowers his head and removes his costume

trembles in the sunshine

and is not used to the girl's face washed away with lead

as if the ancient sacrifice is still

the ancient soul is walking around

. Have gone too far

women are flirting

all the lights in their hearts have been lit

to illuminate the unreal scene of death

So the infatuated ancient girls have died

They have no sexy bodies

The sound of silk and bamboo is affectionate

The huge red hourglass on the stage

is slowly leaking out for a hundred years

The beautiful young woman has arrived. The main station in front of the stage

can't tell the difference between busy and idle

The people under the stage can only nod and applaud

The soul falling like snowflakes in June

Illuminate the generation of Facebook on the stage pavilion

I am so passionate at this moment

(A long scream through the clouds

Feel this wonder layer by layer

See him chew and chew, do all the joys and sorrows. Almost a ray of spirit

meets your role

You are no longer you under the mask

(Under the mask, I am dead

In the gongs and drums, it is like the deceased reborn

my figure is quaint and unique)

A long time ago, a Facebook sketch became

It loves itself and its soul

.

Author: Li Jie Source: "Looking at Gaoshan Mountain and White Clouds to Send to Master Lu in Luoyang" Dynasty: Interpretation of Tang Dynasty: Old friends who are officials in Beijing seem to be acting every day, but they put aside the important matter of relaxing. 2. Everything is easy once you follow Beijing Opera.

Author: Liu Changqing Source: "A Poem Written by Uncle Zhi and Yi Chengen, Master Book of Luoyang" Dynasty: Interpretation of the Tang Dynasty: It is easy to describe everything. Extended information Beijing opera short story: Beijing opera was formerly a Huizhou class popular in Jiangnan area in the early Qing Dynasty, which was mainly composed of singing and blowing, high-pitched and Erhuang.

Huiban has strong mobility, frequent contact with other operas, and mutual communication and infiltration in vocal cavity. Therefore, during its development, Huiban has also performed many Kunqu operas, and absorbed Luoluo cavity and other miscellaneous songs. In the fifty-fifth year of Qing Qianlong (179), the first Huizhou class (Sanqing class), headed by Gao Langting (a famous month official), entered Beijing to participate in the performance celebrating the 8th birthday of Emperor Qianlong.

The Record of Yangzhou Painted Boats says: "Gao Langting entered the capital, and his class was named Sanqing, with Anqing Flower Department and Beijing-Qin two-chamber." Yang Maojian's Book of Dreams and Stories, published in the 22nd year of Daoguang (1842), also said: "The Third Celebration comes before the Fourth Celebration. When the Emperor Qianlong entered Duzhu Box in the 55th year, he called it the' Three Celebrations Emblem', which was the originator of Huizhou class."

Wu Zishu pointed out more specifically in the annotation of Sui Yuan Shi Hua that "Wu Nala, governor of Fujian and Zhejiang, ordered Zhejiang salt merchants and Anqing Hui people to wish Li." Later, many Huizhou classes went to Beijing one after another.

The famous classes are Sanqing, Sixi, Chuntai and Hechun. Although Hechun was founded in the eighth year of Jiaqing (183), it was later than the thirteenth year of Sanqing, but later generations still called it "the four Huizhou classes entering Beijing".

Reference: Baidu Encyclopedia-Peking Opera. 5. What are the poems about Peking Opera?

The face of Facebook is full of ink. The man holds his pen up, his face in the mirror is half bright and clean, and the other half is indigo. Someone is at the front desk, singing or making a few whistling noises, and a few cheering lights turn dim, so he can't see the true colors of things. The man said, "I want to hear the details."

I felt the rustling satin lining with a paper flower on my temples, so I was down and out sketching my face in the light shadow (what is the real thing? I can't see my face clearly in the mirror, that is, in the play. I saw Facebook clearly) Suddenly I looked up, and the piano was clear and beautiful. The rotating stage and curtain were moving for a moment. At noon, a few stones and sandbags were dressed up for a moment. At noon, a generation of kings were buried under Facebook. He chose the tragic image. At noon, the mask was thrown aside, and the flesh and bones were sitting in the chair. The whip gradually turned into a horse. A few gestures tied into a ball of reins. The man raised his sleeves and gradually turned into a city. No one in the city retreated many enemy soldiers. The man leaned over the case and gradually turned into a book. When the pages were opened, it was another day of yin and yang and a furnace of agarwood, burning a quiet Facebook and Facebook scurrying down and down. I sang "Night Run". The natural beauty is still a white-headed guest. I am full of rich colors, slowly revealing desolation and loneliness (the big night is my background. The conspiracy in the background is endless, but the drama is always so beautiful. In the drama, the distance is not the real distance. Is the soul in the body the only soul? My eyes are tearful and I can't see that the people on the stage are as light as the wind blowing through the night. The shining emerald has gained a reputation for a lifetime. The pale and thin person's name represents a voice. The person bowed his head, took off his costume, trembled in the sun, and was not used to the girl's face washed away with lead, as if the ancient sacrifice was still walking around in the ancient soul. The person was far away from the years. Women have gone too far, and the lights in their hearts have all been lit to illuminate the unreal scene of death, so the infatuated ancient girls have died. They have no sexy bodies, and the huge red hourglass is slowly leaking out of the stage for a hundred years. The beautiful young woman has reached the edge, but she feels that the people standing in front of the stage can't tell the difference between the busy and idle audience, but they can only nod and applaud the soul like snowflakes in June. I'm so passionate at this time when I'm down and out on a generation of Facebook that lights up the stage (a long whistle through the clouds is layered on top of each other to feel this wonder, watching him chew and chew, do all the joys and sorrows). You are almost a wisp of spirit merging with your role. You are no longer you under the mask (under the mask, I have died, just like the dead regenerate my body, which is quaint and unique). Long ago, the outline of a Facebook has become that it loves itself.