Lyric prose of solar terms in summer

Chang Xia: Think of Qu Yuan.

The river overflows endlessly. Year after year.

It is another summer. Fine as a shadow, Artemisia argyi dyed the folk fragrance into poetry. Since the long summer, a stone that sank into the river floated high and fell. The flying echoes wet the yellow pages and incense a festival called Dragon Boat Festival.

You like long distances, and you like gorgeous clothes.

You like the smell of vanilla, and you like riding horses in Gao Lan.

You shouted "Jun in the Cloud", and you gently called Mrs. Xiang.

You cruise between heaven and earth, endure lightning and thunder, and never bow your head!

Poet on the river bank, you are haggard! Only fishermen can read your bleak back.

Du Ying, ruins still exist, lush vegetation, you sigh and look at the beauty of the world.

Now, more than two thousand years have passed away with the water, but I can vaguely hear your silent sadness. The temperature rises day by day like a river. Some are frustrated but heavy, while others are deeply worried.

The more peaceful and prosperous, the more sober.

Poet, use your calcareous hard bones to build a boiling iron bone in the middle of summer in the vast world and on the edge of the intersection of heaven and earth!

Xiaoman: The Years of Xuan Paper

From the highland of agricultural civilization, a paper age grew.

Like a big tree, it has a history of five thousand years.

Dense and dense, some sundials are missing and faintly visible. Three thousand miles of mountains and rivers are towering, and the bronze statues of our country are everywhere and boundless.

It was a beautiful and elegant Lanting, a grand event of a dynasty. The brush strokes penetrated the back of the paper and pressed the sky lower and lower. Qushui flows down a pool, and the glass is full of starlight in the eyes of literati.

It is not an oath, nor an imperial decree, nor is it a good way to save the world.

That is the infiltration of silence, that is the flying charm. In the Yuan Qu of Tang Poetry and Song Poetry, it is brewing and rising, causing smoke and dust.

Smoking, dreaming, crying and complaining.

Open a national picture at will, uninhibited and uninhibited.

Xiaoman, Xiaoman. When the soul has a little satisfaction, it will quit the stage of life and become a luxury of the soul or a so-called art that is despised by people. We knocked on the keyboard, lit the mouse, sank into the sofa, lifted our lazy bodies, stared at an ancient and simple expression, and drifted away.

Mangzhong: Wheat is singing traditional folk songs.

Wheat is not romantic and does not hesitate. As a plant, I have decided the direction of my life.

When the foot of summer slips into the stream in May, the wheat is as sharp as the tip of a needle, answering the blow of storm and lightning and picking up the short and long season.

Wheat stands firm, does not blindly follow and does not complain.

Deliberately jointing, active heading, happy flowering, careful grouting, the border grows in a calm and orderly day.

Wheat sings traditional folk songs and greets the world with all gestures until there are golden waves of wheat everywhere.

Wheat is the wet nurse of the country, which has nurtured the joys and sorrows of generations.

Vujacic, vujacic.

Listen, she sings in the spring breeze, and she sings in the moonlight. Just like the most persistent cuckoo, it sang primitive blood and profound trauma.

This unpretentious folk song, from an ancient field, was sung in a wanderer's dream.

Sickle can't cut off the homesickness. How many people leave home and stay up late. There are tears in the eyes of countless new cities.

Summer solstice: Chinese herbal medicine

Wild chrysanthemum, Chinese rose, dandelion, honeysuckle and azalea see them, and they see poems and seasons.

Banana, I have only seen this name in books; Two-sided needle is the toothpaste brand I often use; Raspberry, a delicious wild fruit described in Lu Xun's prose.

As for Rhizoma Cyperi, Radix Angelicae Sinensis, Radix Bupleuri, Rhizoma Acori Graminei, Fructus Ligustri Lucidi, Lobelia chinensis, Pulsatilla chinensis and Motherwort, I prefer to believe that there is a legend behind them.

Passepartout, Shigong, Wang, and a branch of Artemisia in the snow are even more puzzling. In my eyes, they are like chivalrous men walking in rivers and lakes, with agile skills, elegant posture and recruiting!

Chinese Herbal Medicine is a wonderful book, which is an allusion to thousands of products. Although the words are scattered, they shine like stars and bloom like flowers. Not only understand the surface of life, but also cure the root of the soul. How many stubborn diseases have been eliminated and how many lives have been saved.

Nowadays, our nation seems to be in an impetuous summer.

At this urgent moment, let the ancient crock sit on a fresh fire, shake it with a small fan, count the time and slowly boil out the traditional prescription.

Pick a few bamboo leaves to clear lung and reduce fire. Have a taste of dried bitter gourd to clear away heat and toxic materials. Take another bowl of dried ginger water, and return it to the yang to pass the pulse.

Slight summer heat: the rhyme of lotus flowers

If there were no lotus flowers, the summer heat would be suffocating.

Nature is the most suitable arrangement. When Chunfang is resting, everything is exhausted. It's just that pool of lotus leaves and lotus flowers lit up the whole summer.

Cool breeze, born in emerald green, born in elegant red, born in small fish and shrimp swimming underwater.

Raise a pen as a flag, put pen to paper as a song.

I called out Mr. Lianxi, who was not stained with mud, and looked at him quietly from a distance, Mr. Li Zhuo in the water.

I appealed to Yang Wanli of Jiejing Ci Temple to write a poem reflecting the sun.

I call for the heroic Dongpo lay man. Why not row a boat on the West Lake and enjoy the fragrance of lotus flowers?

Best, let me become a lotus, swaying in the pond in summer, either red or white; It is also fresh and charming and enchanting.

Or become a huge lotus leaf, holding up every drop of dew with your heart, a sun in a drop of dew.

Even, simply let me become a lotus root, hide in the deep mud and sing a low-key song.

Summer: Pufan time

Don't forget what you should remember.

Don't neglect what you should be grateful for.

Those precious petals are lost in the river of time, drifting with the tide. The hope of not being saved has never been settled.

What I want to say is an ordinary fan.

Its appearance is simple and its personality is as simple as its name. Blooming in the distant summer night in the countryside, plumes of kitchen smoke are pulled out, giving off the fragrance of straw. Weaver and Cowherd meet in Tianhe, and Yong Dong calls for love under the Huaiyin tree.

Walking in the jungle of reinforced concrete, life is a bit sloppy, a bit cramped and a bit boring. In the advertisement, Midea smiles and sells all kinds of air conditioners. The price of air conditioner is attractive and the name is nice. There are also various styles and comfortable temperatures.

The scorching sun is forgotten, and countless sweats are suffocated.

People behave themselves and their collars are clean, which is completely unexpected. There is also a cattail leaf fan, which is out of time and gives a cool sigh.

A cattail leaf fan has cooled for five thousand years.

Now I can only live in the dictionary, waiting for the giant pen like a rafter to be deleted.