[Contemporary Ci Fu] Shi Wansheng: Mid -Autumn Festival

Clear night, Jin Gui Zhangqiu. White reeds are like hair, blue water is like eyes.

The husband's moon is also out of Dongshan, the clouds are far away, the brightness is lonely, and Juanjuan is over. The stack of Qianxun was rushing in Xiquan, and Pinghu was full of water and smooth water. When you look at it, Bing toad is clean, listening to the insects and birds. The village surrounds Wuli smoke trees, and the ink and wash are not collected. Yiyong's lights, Xingsu participated in. The sky is high, and the moon is paid to the moon. The court flowers shake the shadow, the aroma is full of floating.

To the moon hanging the South Tian, ​​Huiming Palace; Who raised the mirror of Yaotai, moving the universe at the interstellar; who passed on the sound of jade flute, hovering on the shore and laughing Tingzhou. The geese, the cicada piano, the water poultry rest, promoting the sorrow. The old base smoke, the lone city road is folded, the stars are surrounded by the wild and the rivers are silent. Sichuanlong Xiao Shu, Guan River was left out of the river, and his return to the water was leisurely.

In the end, the moon fell to the West Tower, and he was in the boudoir, and he was pregnant with his head. Qinglu has been leaf, and Bai Shuang is worried. Thousands of miles of pavilion, hate endless. Sheng Xiao blows the swaying posture; The color of the frost is like a color pen, but Cui is sick, and the sound of Wen Qiu has made a business rhythm, and he is screaming. No reason to read the heavens and earth, what kind of investment in the road of sadness.

Woo. Looking at the moon, the guests who board the building are different and the situation is different. Or send the reunion, or the tears of love love, or the mind of Ling Yun, or praise to the righteousness. However, the realm of life is different, and the thoughts are not one.

Gai Ying is in the door of morality, and You Lingmu is at the Zezhi. The pillow pine clouds are sleeping; the bamboo dew is the agar. Play with mountain poultry; Do not describe the embarrassment due to delusion, although it is simple to hide in the sun and the moon. The potential is deep rock, and it is incense when it comes. This is like the sages.

If the husband is silent, Xing Su is a chess; Hao Hao is in Gan Ge, and he is a master. Lin Yanshi rolled the tide, ascending the god Yue and Yanglong. The singing is old and the flags are all over. This is like a hero.

If you enter and enjoy, you will be worried. The twilight is poor. Lian Lian Hui Hui, Mu Ziya's straight hook. I am afraid that I have no effort, and envy Huo Zhi's conspiracy. After passing the western compartment, the heart was gloomy, looking at the east and taking a plan. This will also be the part.

Or, or the star is at Haikou, standing in the water; Wen Qiu's sound was stuffed, and the hill climbing. In front of Maguan, the snow was full of knife; However, he thinks about a thousand miles, hoping for the painful birds, thinking about the country, and carelessness. This is like the song of Wu Wu.

Nai Rufeng turned the rain, and looked at the end of the festival. The steaming of the cake is like a rim, and the shape of the noodles is like poultry and insects; North and south, the same is the same, the phosphorus is rotten, which is accumulated in it. This is the heart of ordinary people.

童 童 嚱 嚱, Tong Meng sent the rainbow, not left in the same way; the shadow of the shadow, not a joint; old to the meditation, the unknown true meaning. Why is life not complete, and why life is difficult to plan. Life is also a desire, and the world is also the mechanism. The priest of the state of the state, but the disaster is still in the Xia; The moon is full of shade and clear, which can be carved like a bead for the dreams of the craftsmen, the dark fragrance of the floating dusk, quietly lying down, and the beginning of the week, why there is a sky; , Shunshan is frustrated, and the cliff stones are boiling. Gai Zhi is a whisper, and the Wei Wei can also hand.

Well. The moon desires to call people, no distinction; Look at Xia Luo, listen to birds. There is me in Yuzhong, how light the grass mustard is. There is me in the world, weaker. I have me, looking for Yu Xunqing. Inhability with green shuttle; neighbors with the landscape. The cup is poured on the moon night, the pot is boiled on the star day, and Fang Lu is a wine, and it is also on the British.

Fortunately, the hearts of the world returned. Qianfeng held the day, and Wan Yan gave birth to smoke. Dreaming and dreaming of the clouds, the Mingyue is in order to reunite the family. In the hometown of fish and rice, fishing songs answered each other; The grass and trees are lingering, and the cattle and sheep return to the market; The fog is steaming, the boat is patrolling the sea; Every time I read, my heart is ups and downs;

Poetry said:

The water and the sky are full of moonlight, and the flute autumn wind cigarettes.

Fan moves hometown sorrow to look at the soil, what year when the cream invades the illness.

In front of the court, steamed cakes should be presented.

Outside of the Lone Museum of Tonight, who passed on the flower of Huaer.

About the Author

Shi Wansheng, a native of Wuwei, Gansu, a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, and the vice president of Liangzhou Counseling Society. Poetry works were published in newspapers and magazines such as "Chinese Poetry" and "Tianma". Poetry works are often published on Yunfan and Xiaolou network platforms.

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