Few people do as the Romans do. Their nature is to love nature. -Tao Yuanming's "Return to the Garden, Part I"
At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil. -Li Shen's "Two Antiques/Two Farmers"
An egret flies over the quiet swamp, and mango birds sing in the trees in midsummer. —— Wang Wei's "Long Rain/Autumn Return to Wangchuan Village and I Stay at Wangchuan"
The mountains and plains are all green, and the sound of Zigui is raining like smoke. -April in rural Weng Juan.
The trees in the garden are lush, and the crystal dew rises in the sun. -Anonymous "Long song"
Although the children don't plow and weave, they also learn a kind of melon in the shade of mulberry trees. -Fan Chengda's "Summer Village Miscellaneous Seven"
Plum golden apricot fat, wheat white, cauliflower thin. -Fan Chengda's Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous, Part II
Looking at Noda from the front door alone, the moon is in the sky and the flowers are like snow. -Bai Juyi's Country Night
I planted beans at the foot of Nanshan, and the weeds in the field were covered with peas. -Tao Yuanming's "Returning to the Garden"
I want to open up wasteland in Minamino and keep my humility to the fields. -Tao Yuanming's "Return to the Garden, Part I"
The narrow path covered with vegetation, the night dew wet my clothes. -Tao Yuanming's "Returning to the Garden"
During the day, weeding in the fields and rubbing hemp thread at home at night, the men and women in the village took on all the housework. -Fan Chengda's "Summer Village Miscellaneous Seven"
Turtledoves crowed outside the curtain, it was drizzling around, and several idle winter fields crossed the river to the beginning of spring ploughing, taking advantage of the spring rain to hoe the ground. -Zhang Yan's "Crossing the River, Clouds, Shadows, Mountains and Shadows for a Long Time" has repeatedly recalled the journey to Hangzhou in the spring.
There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death. -Li Shen's "Two Antiques/Two Farmers"
Jojo and Fu Tian greet each other cordially. -Wang Wei's "Farmers by the Wei River"
The boat passed through the shallows, and the struggle between grass and grass was scattered around, and the little egret in Shuitian Bay Aha was swept away. -Wen, "Li Zhou Nan Du"
In the middle of the night, the tiger took advantage of the small tillage, and the cow gradually could not walk. -Yan's "Farmhouse"
There is nothing like dancing, let alone looking forward to the New Year on the field. -Once upon a time, "Su Daozhong"
West Shili ripe fragrant rice, hibiscus fence long bamboo silk, hanging fruit green and yellow. -Fan Chengda's "Shajiangcun Road in Huanxi"
Tian Jia was idle for a few days, and farming began. -Wei's "Guantianjia"
At the end of the year, hoe the plow and close the empty room, shouting to climb the mountain and collect acorns. -Zhang Ji's wild old songs/Shan Nong ci
Tianjia hedge has a small winding path. Clouds and trees are open and clear. -Zhou Bangyan's "Yu Meiren Shuli Amethyst Tian Jiaxiao"
Running water surrounds the paddy field, and the fence is full of green bamboo; All the elm seeds have been lost, and the hibiscus flowers have become sparse. -Zhang Shunmin's "Village House, Water Around the Hedge"
Get up early in the morning to get rid of weeds, and come back with hoes in the moonlight at night. -Tao Yuanming's "Returning to the Garden"
The cuckoo flies to persuade early ploughing, and the hoe flies at the spring eye. -Yao Nai's "Mountain Walking, Bugu Flying, Persuading Early Farming"
Sunset shines on the market, and cattle and sheep go home along the path. -Wang Wei's "Farmers by the Wei River"
Sell new silk in February and cut new grain in May. -Nie Zhongyi's "Yongtianjia/Shangtianjia"
A light rain brought new flowers, and a thunder began to wake up. -Wei's "Guantianjia"
When people don't know the hardships of farmers, they will say that Tanaka was born. -Yan's "Farmhouse"
Fortunately, wasteland can also be reclaimed for land reclamation, and farm tools are easy to arrange. -Wang Shouren's "Exile grain, please learn from farmers, Tian Nanshan's words are precious"
When you see rice, it smells like particles. -Huang Xieqing's Miscellaneous Notes of Autumn Family
2. Poems about the field 1 Spring is really comfortable, and the scenery in spring is really beautiful!
This spring has given people new life and new hope. I like this beautiful spring.
Near, near, I heard the footsteps of spring, and everyone was reporting the arrival of spring. My whole heart floated out, floating on bright flowers and oily green grass.
The spring rain continued, sprinkled on the buttonwood tree in the yard. sasha vujacic gently plucked the strings like a musician, and quietly swallowed mulberry leaves like a silkworm baby. ...
5 oh! Spring rain, it turned out that you came to the earth with the spring girl, which filled the earth with vitality and fresh breath. Your dexterous hands touch people's heartstrings and draw people's beautiful hopes.
3. What are the poems describing the fields? Poems describing the fields are:
1, Uncle Tian Yu, there are no residents in the alley, are there no residents?
2, there is no field, only obedience. No one from Philip Burkart, I'm tired.
3, the rain is high and white, ploughing in the middle of the night.
4, take a field, take ten thousand years.
5. Going to Ueno, what a lonely grave.
6, the old silkworm has not returned, and Baitian has been reeling.
7. On the spring night, Zhuting presented Qian Shaofu to Lantian.
8. It's not easy to make money in Shan Ye.
9, white hair and weak stars, farming with grandchildren.
10, Tian Tian soon went down to the imperial court and stayed in Changsha for another year.
1 1, Tianjia has less leisure time, and people are twice as busy in May.
Mermaids shed pearl-like tears on the moon-green sea, and the blue fields breathed their jade to the sun.
13, in April, there were few idle people in the countryside, and only sericulture was inserted into the fields.
14, the wicker will be comfortable, the cloak will be soft and the wheat field will be shallow.
15, one water protects the field, and two mountains give green.
4. Write a poem about rural pastoral Fan Chengda's Miscellanies of Four Seasons Pastoral (1): plum is golden and apricot is fat, cauliflower is white, and wheat is thin. No one has ever landed on the long fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. April in rural Weng Juan >; The mountains and plains are all green and the rain is like smoke. There are few idle people in the countryside in April, and sericulture is planted in the fields. Yang Wanli's Suxin Xugong Store: The hedge is sparse all the way, and the flowers on the top of the tree are not shaded. The children scrambled to chase Huang Die and flew into the cauliflower, but there was nowhere to be found. Six of the seven pastoral songs, Wang Wei's peach is full of rain, and the willow green is more smoky.
The children at home have not been driven away, and the oriole singing the song of idleness is still sleeping. Four-season rural hybrid Fan Song becomes a big Li Jinxing fat, and wheat flowers are white and cauliflower is thin.
No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. The four seasons are idyllic, and in the Song Dynasty, Fan became a big black bird and threw himself into the forest. The tourists were sparse, and the mountains in front of him went to Chai Fei.
The child paddled like a leaf, weaving a duck array and returning alone. The newly-built farm in Fan Chengda in the Song Dynasty has a flat mud mirror, and every household grows rice while first frost.
Laughter thundered and flail rang all night. Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous Prosperity Song Fan Chengda Ritian Yunye Ji Ma, each village takes charge.
Although the children don't plow and weave, they also learn a kind of melon in the shade of mulberry trees.
5. Poetry about the countryside 1 Children in the countryside: "March in the countryside is far from memory" has to admit that the countryside in March is really far from memory, even if the incense is still nestled in the ocean of rape flowers. Play with snails, catch bees and chase Huang Die.
Playing with the newly awakened earth, or stringing peach petals and hanging spring around the neck is no longer the childhood of rural children. Now, they are more willing to give themselves to the TV and shut out spring with their mothers who are closer to mahjong than mud. 2. Rural Youth: "He is not welcome in spring" He once sang spring in children's voices and tilted his vision to the balance of rural campuses. The spring breeze without melting rain and the hard gardener who greeted him are barren rural fields. He can't grow into a big tree and run to the city all his life. He scattered like dust on the assembly line of the factory and returned to beginning of spring with the tide of migrant workers in Spring Festival travel rush. He is not as popular as firecrackers in spring. The purse was empty for several years in a row, which was enough to blow him to pieces. 65,438+08 years old, barely patching up the future. It's too far. His thin youth is really not as green as the new grass behind the house. 3. Rural women: "The sun shines obliquely on the south window", which is suitable for picking cotton in the afternoon. Brother's sweat evaporated on the scaffolding in the city. Sister-in-law and sister-in-law are sitting at home in the sun. Speaking of the trouble that the sun can't shine, the urea saved in Big Brother's teeth is not worth the two storms in summer. Those fallen cotton buds, those who can't wait to be white, yellow and purple, are dead. All my sister-in-law's expectations are complaining that more than ten acres of land are too light to pry her son's college expenses. Why don't we leave the hoe together next year, stay away from the dirt and go to Guangdong and go to the garment factory? 3. Country old man: ◎ Mother-in-law in the cotton field, you said that three feet of cotton lured you into the cotton field that year. This progress has been nearly sixty years, and you have never come out since you dyed your old moss. There are always so many reasons to stay that several baskets can't hold it. You printed them on your forehead and carved them in the corner of your eyes until your grandson told your grandmother to "don't study hard and grow cotton with me", just like you did then. You said-with threats, stand up straight and tell Miantian your last wish, "I can't walk any further, so don't ask your children for money." In the cotton field, you have become a silver-frosted cotton stalk, the biggest cotton ball. How humble the old farmer who sang in front of the abandoned theater was. These old sparrows in the countryside can't compete with the climate all their lives, and they are looking for food all their lives. Now, they begin to re-examine the theater with wings as old as theirs, and lock themselves in a sad grave with rust. Then a three-step green tree, an erhu and a pair of gongs and drums can also be placed on their stage to place a country drama flowing in blood. The old lady basking in the sun at the door of the old house is walking in the budding heart, with flowers blooming and stumbling at her feet. The old is not just a memory. Now, you like sunshine more and more. You don't talk about rain and snow, but sigh about the war between the house and the mop. Speaking of the liquid "pictures" on the small flower quilt, you like doors and armchairs more and more. You start to give your feet a holiday, pay more attention to the tendons in your hands, and occasionally comb the wind and frost scattered on your head according to the sunshine. We looked at the green trees around your village and the pale blue of the distant mountains.
6. Poems about pastoral 1 Tianjin Sha Qiu Si
Ma Yuan Zhiyuan
Dead vines, old trees, faint crows,
Small bridges and flowing water,
The ancient road goes west,
The sun went down,
And lovesick travelers are still at the end of the world.
Lonely phoenix tree, deep courtyard lock clear autumn,
As far away as Hanshan, the stone path is oblique, and people are in Bai Yunsheng.
4 Passing by an old friend Zhuang Meng Haoran
This old friend prepared a delicious meal and invited me to his hospitable farm. Green Woods surround the village and green hills are located outside the city.
Open the window facing the valley vegetable garden and pass the glass to talk about crops. Wait until the mountain is on holiday, and I'll come back at chrysanthemum time.
5 Yi people Zheng:
Tang Fang is as clear as a mirror, and the fishing raft will not get lost in the wind.
A few reed flowers float clean, and the sunset lake in Ban 'an Mountain is low.
There are thousands of frost on herons flying over the Rocky Mountains, and the fish weave waves.
It has its own fishing platform, which can send autumn colors across the west of the city.
6 Pu's "Clear Sand and Autumn"
The sunset in the lonely village, the light smoke from the old tree in the west of Western jackdaw, and the shadow of Hong Fei.
Green mountains and green waters, white grass, red leaves and yellow flowers.
Gui Tian Yuan ju
Tao Yuanming in Wei and Jin Dynasties
There are few chariots and horses in the secluded places when the countryside makes friends with the secular world. This day is still Chai Men closed, and the pure mind blocks the vulgar thoughts.
When complicated market music, pull weeds. When we meet, we don't talk about worldly affairs, only that the garden is long in Sang Ma.
My field is growing higher and higher, and my cultivated land is expanding day by day. Often worried about sudden frost, crops wither like shrubs.
7. Poetry about rural life
When is the spring and autumn, how much is known about the past. (Li Jue: "Yu Meiren")
But this spring spring, after all, can't be caged. Look, there is a pink apricot sticking out of the wall. (Ye Shaoweng: "Not worth going to the park")
If you plant a millet in spring, you will reap 10,000 seeds in autumn. (Li Shen: "Farmers")
Why don't you like wheatgrass? Xia Muyang is cute. (Qin Guan: "March is a dark day")
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested. (Du Fu: The Hope of Spring)
White Manchuria in the mountain plain is green, and the sound of Zigui is like smoke. In April, there were few idle people in the countryside, and sericulture was planted in the fields. (Weng Juan's song "April in the Country")
I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors. (He Zhangzhi: "Liu Yong")
The remnants gather in the summer heat, and the new power rain brings autumn haze. (Cen Can: "Shuige sent Wang Huaying Shaofu back to the county")
8. Poetry about the countryside 1 Children in the countryside: "March in the countryside is far from memory" has to admit that the countryside in March is really far from memory, even if the incense is still nestled in the ocean of rape flowers. Play with snails, catch bees and chase Huang Die.
Playing with the newly awakened earth, or stringing peach petals and hanging spring around the neck is no longer the childhood of rural children. Now, they are more willing to give themselves to the TV and shut out spring with their mothers who are closer to mahjong than mud. 2. Rural Youth: "He is not welcome in spring" He once sang spring in children's voices and tilted his vision to the balance of rural campuses. The spring breeze without melting rain and the hard gardener who greeted him are barren rural fields. He can't grow into a big tree and run to the city all his life. He scattered like dust on the assembly line of the factory and returned to beginning of spring with the tide of migrant workers in Spring Festival travel rush. He is not as popular as firecrackers in spring. The purse was empty for several years in a row, which was enough to blow him to pieces. 65,438+08 years old, barely patching up the future. It's too far. His thin youth is really not as green as the new grass behind the house. 3. Rural women: "The sun shines obliquely on the south window", which is suitable for picking cotton in the afternoon. Brother's sweat evaporated on the scaffolding in the city. Sister-in-law and sister-in-law are sitting at home in the sun. Speaking of the trouble that the sun can't shine, the urea saved in my eldest brother's teeth can't stand two storms in summer. Those fallen cotton buds and wind chimes who can't wait for snow, yellow, purple and red are all dead. All my sister-in-law's expectations are complaining that more than ten acres of land are too light to pry her son's college expenses. Why don't we leave the hoe together next year and go to Guangdong to stay away from the soil and go to the clothing factory? 3. Old man in the country: ◎ Mother-in-law in Miantian said that it was almost 60 years since the three-foot flowered foreign cloth lured you into the cotton field. You dyed your hair white and haven't come out yet. There are always so many reasons to stay that several baskets can't hold it. You printed them on your forehead and carved them in the corner of your eyes until your grandchildren told your grandmother to "don't study hard and grow cotton with me" as you did in those years. You say-with intimidation, then stand up straight and tell the cotton field your last wish "when I can't walk". You are a cotton stalk with silver frost and the biggest cotton ball. How humble the old farmer who sings in front of the abandoned theater is. These old sparrows in the countryside can't compete with the climate all their lives, and they are looking for food all their lives. Now, they begin to re-examine the theater with the same aging wings as them, and lock themselves in a sad grave full of rust. They gather around the rust to pursue the shade in winter and are unable to build a grass platform in spring! Then a three-step green tree, an erhu and a pair of gongs and drums can also be placed on their stage to place a country drama flowing in blood. The old lady basking in the sun at the door of the old house is walking in the budding heart, with flowers blooming and stumbling at her feet. The old is not just a memory. Now, you like sunshine more and more. You don't talk about rain and snow, but sigh about the war between the house and the mop. Speaking of the liquid "pictures" on the small flower quilt, you like doors and armchairs more and more. You start to give your feet a holiday, pay more attention to the tendons in your hands, and occasionally comb the wind and frost scattered on your head according to the sunshine. We looked at the green trees around your village and the pale blue of the distant mountains.