(1) The big string hums like rain, and the small string whispers like a secret; Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade. Idle Guan Ying speaks glibly, and we hear a stream sobbing painfully along the sandy shore. By checking its cold touch, the string seems to be broken, which makes us never stop. The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice. A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons. Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk. The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river. (Bai Juyi's Preface to Pipa)

(2) When touching something, it will jingle, and gold and iron will sound; Another example is a soldier, walking towards the enemy, scurrying with a medal in his hand, not listening to orders, only hearing the voices of people and horses. (Ouyang Xiu's Ode to Autumn Sound)

(3) (Su Shi's Poems on the Red Wall)

(4) (Liang Shiqiu < Snoring >)

(5) But when I held my breath and listened attentively, suddenly, I stopped talking. This cicada scared me again! Cicada, like a rope, tightly tied my heart, suddenly released without warning, so my heart spread out defenseless, like a wave struggling to jump into the sky and accidentally fell to the beach! (Jian Zheng's summer quatrains)

(6) it? Pure? Is that clear? Thoroughly, ice water seeps into your spleen and lungs, just like washing with spring water, and you feel innocent. ..... clock? A big clock flew in the air, and the empty mountain oscillated in the majestic sound waves. Who is alarmed by this bell? My thoughts. ..... This great and mysterious bell makes people feel moved and quiet; From silence? Moving and driving? Quiet. From settling down to flying and back again? Settle down ... this simple voice is a kind of wisdom to me? Wash it. Flowers are blooming. Flowers? , whispers? Fireflies among the stars, pine trees in the sky, next? Yan Yan, male? Dear Love, Gemstone Light, Volcanic Lava: A baby sleeps in the cradle. (Xu Zhimo's Notes on Tianmu Mountain)

(7) From the indoor elevator? When I looked out, the sky was dark, and I could see nothing but darkness. Only waves of wind and waves surge, like the pulse of time, beating the wild coast and giving some hard rocks? Qi slapped my plain efforts like this, which aroused endless regrets. ..... When there is no one walking on the whole hillside, and the distance is also? Pass? Really? The sound of the horse, I still sit in front of the lamp, thinking? See, make it meaningful? , the soul of the atmosphere, accompany me until my boring efforts? Moving? With the rotation of the wind and waves? Lively up? . I feel my presence completely. Is it joy, cognition or regret? Time beats our physique, erodes us and makes us tired? , decline? . But when I woke up again, in order to avoid wondering: what is this? Is Song Yu bleak? Sad? (Yang Mu)

(8) Distant and close, unfamiliar and familiar, so delicate and so clear. In the bustling West Gate at night, like a thin silk, it exudes a faint light, slowly and tenaciously, drawn out from a messy line, drawing longer and longer, lingering in space, winding endlessly, soaring like the string sound of a violin, surpassing the sound of the whole symphony orchestra, wandering and trembling on an adagio. (Lin Huaimin's "Cicada")

(9) The flute is getting closer and closer. I think someone is taking a boat near the island. Ouyang Feng waved and played the guzheng, jingling twice, like a crack. The flute sounded suddenly high in the distance, so shake hands with him. In a short time, Huang also joined the fray, and the sound of Xiao sometimes competed with the long whistle, and sometimes with the sound of Zheng, and the three voices came one after another, killing each other. Guo Jing once played a four-man game with Zhou, and he is no stranger to the scuffle in these three countries. He knows that there must be an elder with high martial arts. At this time, the person who sent the flute was near the Woods beside him, and the flute sounded high and low, sometimes like a dragon singing a lion's roar, sometimes like a wolf howling, or if the wind vibrated the forest, or if the rain wet the flowers, it was extremely ever-changing. The flute is clear and the zither is piercing, but it is also smart and does not fall in the wind. The three voices are intertwined, and the fighting is inextricably linked. I only heard the sound of zither getting more and more urgent. Later, it was like a golden drum and a thousand Ma Benteng. Suddenly, the soft rhyme faded, and the faint flute was mixed with the clank. Guo Jing only feel a swing in my heart, face a hot, busy. Although the sound of the guzheng is loud, it can't hide the sound of the flute all the time. Double voice mixed together, the tone is very strange. Iron clang is still like a monkey crying in Wuxia, and Yu Di is like a phoenix in Kungang, whispering in the boudoir. One is extremely sad, and the other is gentle and charming. High and low, high and low, low and low. The tune simulates the vastness of the sea, and there are no waves in Wan Li. In the distance, the tide is getting closer and faster. Later, Hong Tao was turbulent, with white waves and mountains. In the tide, fish jump and whales float, and seagulls fly on the sea. Coupled with the monster, the monster made waves, and suddenly the iceberg floated to the sea, and the boiling sea suddenly boiled and changed a lot. However, the tide receded, the level was like a mirror, and the submarine undercurrent surged, and it was fast, hiding in a quiet place.