Essays related to The Book of Songs (sub-articles)

Guan pheasant dove, in Hezhou When I open the first page of the Book of Songs, the river always blocks my way, so that I can't really enter the life behind the words. This is a river without a name, which records ancient love and farming. The waves more than two thousand years ago splashed my mossy sandals. Who ever approached the water's edge, singing and crying-how to explain these lost shadows and keep the free soul? Ladies and gentlemen, husbands and passers-by, mothers and children, and even time and memory face each other across the same river, forming a day and night cycle. Now, with the help of thin paper, it interrupts the singing of the ancestors and the listening of the younger generation-this river is related to blood, tradition and China people. The milky way on earth. This shore is a city with high-rise buildings, gear etiquette vehicles and brightly lit lights, and the other shore is a village girl who gathers roses and prays for rain, and a scattered tribe who lives by fishing and hunting. ...

Song of elegance. Fu Bixing. The Book of Songs will bring you into a densely populated area, and the diffuse water mist will come on your face and blur your glass lens. The Book of Songs itself is a river, a river of words. Reading under the lamp, would you like to be a snorkeling fish? Oh, swimming in the palm print of the Book of Songs. The ancient floating clouds and the sound of waves are inherited in our veins and have formed a tributary of that river. Because of time, we will always live in the lower reaches of the Book of Songs, feel its fragrance and accept its nurturing. This is a river without a name, which can't be verified on the map, but the plants along the river are extremely famous. His name is Jia Jian. This is a plant related to love. We must not forget it.