Yo?

Really have a poem in mind?

The members of the Shanshui Poetry Society glanced at each other, all showing mockery.

They looked like they were watching the play, wanting to see what kind of song Wang Huan could write.

Maybe wait a minute, there will be one more laughing and generous poem in this world.

Gee.

It's a little bit of a look forward to it.

As for the 77 live broadcast room, netizens were in an uproar.

"Brother Huan really wrote a poem?"

"Did I hear me right? Could it be limerick?"

"I guess Brother Huan's poem is like this: Seven days after seven days, seven days is so many, seven seven think about seven days, Brother Huan says too much......"

"Damn, you are ruthless upstairs, labor and management are drinking water, I instantly laughed when I saw you, you pay me for the keyboard. ”

"Surprise Auntie! Take a commemorative photo!"

"This car is driving at a speed of two hundred and eight, right?"

"The winner of the annual poetry contest was born, and he is this sand sculpture netizen named 'Burning Chest Hair'. ”

“......”

At this time, in the picture, I saw Wang Huan clear his throat and speak.

"This pipa line is written about the story of the night of the Xunyang River. Because of the picture at this moment, I am reminded of a previous folklore. I felt something, so I wrote the following poem. Please listen. ”

Xunyang River?

Where is it?

The people in the cabin looked at each other, because they had never heard of the name.

Just when everyone's faces were a little embarrassed, Wen Liang said in a low voice: "I remember, it's a small tributary of Jiangxi Province, I don't know where Wang Huan heard about it." ”

Du Yan nodded and did not speak.

He thinks that Wang Huan is playing tricks, and he really thinks that he can bluff us by making a place name that everyone has never heard of?

Are you kidding!

No one is scared.

Wang Huan's eyes looked through the cabin to the woman playing the pipa on the bow of the boat, his eyes were gloomy.

It was a moment before he began to recite a poem.

"Xunyang Jiangtou night send-off, maple leaves and flowers in autumn. The host dismounted the guest in the boat, and raised the wine to drink without orchestral ......"

A poem is high and low.

When he heard "Xunyang Jiangtou sent off guests at night", Du Yan was disdainful in his heart, and it was indeed a poem without nutrition. But when the second sentence "Maple Leaf Dihua Autumn Sorrow" came out of Wang Huan's mouth, his face was a little unbearable.

At least, he couldn't write such a poem himself.

This Wang Huan, does he really have real skills?

Isn't he just a singing actor?

Du Yan was shocked in his heart.

At the same time, the expressions of the other members of the Shanshui Poetry Club in the cabin also became very exciting.

In order to worry that some netizens would not understand, the whale live broadcast platform specially invited two scholars with a high degree of professionalism in ancient poetry to do simultaneous translation in the live broadcast room for tonight's live broadcast.

They typed Wang Huan's poem into text for the first time.

So, after seeing the poems in the live broadcast room, the reaction from the members of the Shanshui Poetry Club was completely different, and netizens directly blew up the sky.

"Is this really a poem written by Brother Huan?"

"My mom asked me why I knelt on my knees and looked at the computer every day. ”

"As a graduate student majoring in literature, Xiao Sheng is here to say a pertinent word, Brother Huan's poetry skills are absolutely strong. ”

"I was stupid, I thought I was back in high school class, the illusion of a top student memorizing texts on the podium. ”

"Stop arguing, listen to ......"

Wang Huan was still reading the poem.

Only then did everyone realize that the poem written by Wang Huan did not seem to be four sentences in the traditional sense, nor was it eight sentences.

It's a long, long one.

“...... Move the boat to close to each other, invite each other, add wine and return to the lamp to reopen the feast. After a long time, he came out, still holding the pipa and half covering his face. ”

When Wang Huan had more than ten sentences, a professional stood up and analyzed it.

Yuefu poems are generally long, the language is simple and natural, the rhyme is flexible, and it seems to be easy to understand, but it is not so easy to write well. The Yuefu poem that Wang Huan is now creating is catchy, and the artistic conception comes out, which is obviously the top grade in the Yuefu poem, but unfortunately it is not up to the point of being a good product, because there is no very amazing sentence...... "The professional's analysis came to an abrupt end.

Because he heard a word.

"After a long time, he came out, still holding the pipa and half covering his face. ”

A singer holding a pipa but answering shyly jumped in front of her, and the picture came to her face, with a strong sense of déjà vu.

The professional was directly stunned.

Just this one line of poetry is enough to be passed on to future generations.

"The finishing touch, the finishing touch. He shook his head in amazement.

Looking at the members of the Shanshui Poetry Society in the cabin, they had a stunned expression. As if they had seen a ghost, they looked at Wang Huan, who was sitting in the middle of the cabin reciting poems.

How can it be?

Is this really a poem he wrote?

Even if they saw it with their own eyes, Du Yan and the others still had a strong disbelief in their hearts.

One by one, they were proud and even arrogant.

But there is still a basic level of appreciation, and until now they have heard it, the song "Pipa Xing" written by Wang Huan, even if it is placed in the vast history of thousands of years, I am afraid it can be ranked.

In their minds, even the most brilliant writers today could not write such poems.

But how did Wang Huan write it?

However, they never expected that the excitement was far from stopping.

The climax is coming......

"The big strings are noisy like a torrential rain, and the small strings are like whispers. Noisy and staggered, big beads and small beads fall on the jade plate. ......”

The sound of a real pipa sounded next to everyone's ears, even better than the woman who was playing the pipa outside. This is the highest level of poetry: captivating!

Then, the famous sentence of the ages was born.

“...... Don't have gloom and hatred, silence is better than sound at this time. ......”

Du Yan pinched his thigh hard, and the sharp pain came, and he realized that he was not dreaming.

Wen Liang's hands trembled, his mouth muttered something, and his eyes became dull.

The other members of the Shanshui Poetry Society were no better, and almost all of them lost their temper.

In Qiqi's live broadcast room, the barrage was rarely silent.

Except for the two scholars who were subtitling, trembling and typing out the verses Wang Huan said, there were almost no other barrages.

Qiqi bit her lip, she looked at Wang Huan sitting in the center of the picture, her eyes were shining: "Senior, how many secrets do you still have to hide from me?"

When everyone thought that a famous sentence through the ages should be Wang Huan's limit.

As time passed, everyone realized that they had guessed wrong.

"In front of the door, Kurama is scarce, and the boss is married to a businesswoman. ”

"This year's laughter will return to next year, the autumn moon and spring breeze and so on. “

"The same is the end of the world, why should we have known each other!"

A poem came from Wang Huan's mouth, which shocked everyone's souls.

Especially when Wang Huan said the last sentence, whether it was the members of the poetry club in the cabin or the netizens in the Qiqi live broadcast room, they all fell into a deathly silence.