What is a dream? In a person's life, dreams always lurk in the dark night, when the eyelids are closed, when the lights are dim, the dream is coiled around the eyelids. In Ya's impression, the dream is a blue veil of mist, and the distant mountains in the dream are full of clouds, with the fragrance of grass and flowers rushing into your nostrils and caressing your face.

The dream is the tranquility of "looking up at the bright moon and looking down at the hometown", the dream is the idyllic scenery of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence and seeing the South Mountain leisurely", the dream is the majesty of "the iron horse glacier into the dream", the dream is the bleakness of "the willow bank, the wind and the waning moon", and the dream is the affectionate ...... of "pieces of red leaves send acacia"

In countless dreams, there is a similar picture that appears again and again. For example, Ya often dreamed of a gray-robed young man riding a gray horse:

A young man in a gray robe rode a gray horse

Horses galloped past

The horse's hooves raised gray sand

Wading through the river, splashing soaking the cuffs of his trousers

Walking through the jungle, thorns cut his cheeks

Clusters of brocade flowers fragrant hoof prints

The young man's thin lips pursed tightly, and his sword eyebrows frowned

The starry eyes focused on a straight line

The young man hurriedly raised his whip and urged the horse

The smoke and dust rode over the thunder

Is he a sentry delivering letters in a hurry?

Is he a teenager in a hurry?

The setting sun reflected the beads of sweat on his forehead

He didn't bother wiping it

His face was filled with arrows

A path of towering ancient trees

The horse suddenly raised its hooves and neighed

The boy slammed off his horse

A gray rope

tightened the boy's neck

Tighter and tighter, the teenager screamed in despair

The world before you plunged into darkness

The boy grabbed the rope around his neck with all his might

But to no avail

Impatience, desperation, screaming out of the throat

I woke up sweating again

It turned out to be another unwilling dream

Why does the gray-robed boy always appear in dreams?

Who is that young man, is it me in my previous life?

I distinctly felt the panic of the rope suffocating in my neck

I clearly felt the strong unwillingness of the teenager

He has important things to do

How can you go to Huangquan at a young age

The same fate

Several repros

But my past life is dusty

Why does the gray-robed boy appear in his dreams again and again? If there is a past life and this life, is the gray-robed young man his own unpaid ambition when he dies? Since I was a child, I wanted to be a hero who served the country like Yue Fei. When I was in middle school, I once gave a painting to my girlfriend: Li Qingzhao wrote "Life is a masterpiece, death is also a ghost." So far, I think of Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong. "It's so exciting, it's so heartwarming.

The following poems cross the long river of time, stand in the forest of poetry, galloping and stirring with the love of the motherland's mountains and rivers, the pride of making contributions, giving people the majestic desolation, the majestic atmosphere, the pen is strong, and the artistic power of the realm is grand, which can be called "the swan song of ancient and modern".

There will be times when the wind and waves will be long, and the clouds will sail into the sea. 

Lao Ji is in the woods, and his ambitions are thousands of miles; The martyrs are in their twilight years, and their hearts are strong. 

Broad view and about to take, thick accumulation and thin hair. 

If you don't fly, it's just a sky; If you don't make a sound, it's a blockbuster. 

When you are old and strong, you would rather move the heart of the white head; Poor and strong, do not fall into the ambition of the clouds. 

Hugh said that women are not English, and the dragon spring wall sings every night. 

I am willing to serve the country with this length, why should I be born into the Jade Gate Pass. 

Not afraid of clouds to cover your eyes, only because you are in this mountain. 

Seeing autumn grass in front of the Huamen Tower, how can you look at the old with poverty. 

Dapeng rose with the wind one day and soared up to 90,000 miles. 

The road is long, I will go up and down and seek. 

is also good at what he has done, although he has not regretted his death. 

Therefore, the heavens will descend on the people, and they must first suffer their minds, strain their muscles and bones, starve their bodies and skins, empty their bodies, and act chaotically.

Tianxingjian, a gentleman strives for self-improvement; The terrain is good, and the gentleman carries things with virtue. 

The edge of the sword is sharpened, and the fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold. 

Youth must be early, how can it grow into youth. 

The husband is all over the world, and he is still next to each other for thousands of miles. 

The yellow sand wears gold armor in a hundred battles, and Loulan will not be returned if it is not broken. 

There are tens of millions of mansions in Ande, and the cold people in the world are happy, and the wind and rain are not moving. 

The three armies can win the commandery, but the horseman cannot win the ambition. 

The following verses can be called the most heroic and heart-wrenching ancient poems in history:

The road is long, I will go up and down and seek

Donate your life to go to the country, and see death as if you were going home!

The husband is all over the world, and he is still next to each other for thousands of miles.

What does it mean to refine the rigidity and turn it into a finger twisting softness.

When the times are in danger, the world is chaotic and loyal and good.

Since ancient times, the sages have been poor, not to mention that my generation is lonely and straight.

It will be the top of the mountain, and the mountains will be small.

But to make the dragon city fly in, do not teach Humadu Yin Mountain!

Yellow sand wears gold armor in a hundred battles, and Loulan will never be returned if it is not broken!

There will be times when the wind and waves will be long. Straight to the clouds and sails into the sea.

In Guangzhou, there is a lot of rainy weather. Ya was shocked again and again by the breadth of the rain and the wild wind here. I remember last June, it rained for three days in a row:

On the first day, it was a sunny day, and you wouldn't expect a heavy downpour of rain to come.

Ya walked out of the mall at five o'clock in the afternoon, and there were dark clouds in the sky, but there was also sunlight and clouds penetrating. Halfway through, he found that the sky had darkened suddenly, and when he looked up at the sky, there were dark clouds surging overhead.

The dark clouds accelerated the pace of the large army marching rapidly, and the amplitude of the surge became larger and larger, and there was a momentum of pouring down on the earth, and the sky and the earth suddenly went down. At the end of the dark clouds is the white clouds, the rhythm of the two heavens of day and night.

The dark clouds gathered together, transformed into mountains overlapping each other, converging into a sea of seas, and setting off waves and buildings. Thousands of horses galloped in the sky, and the wind raged on the sea. At this time, the sky is full of vicissitudes of life.

There is still half of the trip away from home, and Ya secretly complains in her heart, there is a storm rolling in this dark cloud, and she is bound to be photographed in the rain and fog. She is still lucky that people will win the day, and there are still unaware hopes. So, he quickly stepped up, quickly pedaled the pedals, leaned forward with his body, and rushed forward fiercely.

The hateful thing is that the chain fell off in the middle of the desperate rush, and I had to crouch down and turn the chain in embarrassment with my hands stained with oil······

Inadvertently, the dark clouds rushed away, and the raindrops of beans fell, not dense but heavy, and there was a slight pain on the body. There were fewer cars on the road at this time, and the road was silent.

Half of my hair was wet, and my clothes, pants, and shoes were quickly wet. There are no pavilions or eaves to avoid on the road, and there is no other way but to continue riding.

The color of the dark clouds gradually faded, but the raindrops covered the sky and the sun. Ya opened the umbrella she carried on weekdays, and there was not so much panic in her heart, but the umbrella only covered her head and face, and the rain line still hit her body obliquely. She couldn't break free from the vast rain curtain, so she could only ride with an umbrella indifferently.

The sky was a blank color, the dark clouds had turned into heavy rain, and the dark clouds had become a faint ink color. The raindrops hit the ground like a small silver fish jumping with joy.

The thunder and lightning were shining in the clouds, but they broke in mid-air, like a broken bridge crashing in half, but it was the aftermath that rumbled and shocked the eardrums. The sound of the rain and the sound of all things in the world are like a twilight song played in the rain curtain, singing heartily like the autumn wind sweeping away the leaves. Singing the years of suppression in the sky, messy and distracted.

The trees on the road stood silently, let the rain wash over them, and only the branches swayed gently. They should be happy with such heavy rain, which is clearly a cleansing bath for the body and mind.

On the road, the car rushed to the ground, and the body passed by, like a small boat splashing water, splashing in all directions, and the sound of the car rowing through the water aggravated the noise of the rain······

When she returned home, Ya was already soaking wet, and the function of holding an umbrella was nothing more than to avoid rain, so as not to even open her eyes. After taking a shower, I leaned on the balcony railing and looked out, the rain stopped, and the sun actually shone through the clouds, dyeing the white clouds red.

The sky was exceptionally blue and clear, as if it had changed into a new and refreshing new clothes. The ground was still wet, but the sky was calm as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had happened.

On the second day, when I woke up in the morning, I could see that it was a sunny day. The sky is bright, white clouds float refreshingly in the air, and the sun shines brightly on the earth. The day after the rain was so clear, the green leaves shone with clear light waves, and the wind was gentle and soft.

In this way, in the afternoon, the white clouds seemed to change into light ink clothes, and it stretched out its wide sleeves and danced wonderfully. The clouds of light ink gathered more and more, and finally turned into light ink rolling, and there were raindrops falling scattered.

The mountains in the distance are still green, and there are still sunshine and white clouds above its head, and it seems that there are still singing and dancing there, and the strange whereabouts of the dark clouds seem to have nothing to do with it.

The clouds began to spread overwhelmingly, and they surged in one direction, and the raindrops of beans crackled like fried beans and began to fall all over the sky······

The clouds were thinner, and the rain should have lightened their weight, and they moved in one direction as if they were about to go. The place where the dark clouds had stayed brightened, the white clouds sang and danced softly, the sunlight painted gold paintings again, and the sky appeared black and white again.

The glow on the top of the mountain is still enchanting, and the sky presents a beautiful picture at this time. The glow and the blue sky coexist, the white clouds dance with the dark clouds, and the breeze and the raindrops fly together······ A picture of opposites and harmony.

On the third day, when I woke up in the morning, I felt that the house was dark and gloomy outside, and I pushed open the door and leaned against the railing. The whole sky was vast, there were faint ink clouds drifting, and the rain was falling loudly, not in a hurry, but in a calm and leisurely manner.

There is no sunshine and no ink clouds, and the whole heaven and earth are unified into a vastness. The rain was falling unhurriedly, and everything stood silently, quietly enjoying this soothing bath.

I don't know how long it rained, but the rain finally stopped and rested. The sky brightened, but the sun stopped showing its face. The heavens and the earth changed from vast to clear, and the distant mountains showed a faint blue.

Soon Yu'er started rehearsing again, and they started singing together, and when they were tired of singing, they became silent again. On this day, the rain danced and sang like this, looking indifferent and unfazed.

The weather is beautiful after the rain.

It rained for several days. When I go out in the morning, the sky is still clear, the blue sky and white clouds are quiet, and the sky is like a smiling face. It's just that the smile is getting lighter and lighter, and by noon, the smile finally ripped off the corners of his lips and condensed into a touch of stiffness.

The dark clouds rushed quickly, changing the form of all ends: like horse-drawn carriages galloping by; Like mountains covered by clouds and mist; Like a wave crashing on the shore, rolling up thousands of piles of snow and spreading it down...... Such a stormy meeting is only a foreshadowing for the coming of the majestic rain.

The roof of the tall workshop is made of iron sheets, and when the rain finally pours down, the roof is like a thousand horses rushing in. It seems that the iron knight roars, and the roar does not stop. The deafening sound stirred up the upside-down cold hairs, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth, and Ren Xinhai throbbed and rippled in circles.

The shoes were wet, the trousers were dripping, and the umbrella couldn't cover the raindrops. Is the June rain in the south always so majestic and always so lingering? As agreed in the previous life, this life and this season come according to the agreement.

These days, the weather is cloudy and uncertain, when you leisurely walk on the road, holding a small umbrella to block ultraviolet rays, leisurely fantasizing about the bluestone pavement oil-paper umbrella. All of a sudden, the sky changed, and the pouring rain whistled in, catching you off guard and getting wet. The heat of summer is gone, the wind of late autumn is blowing all over the sleeves, and a faint chill hits my heart.

The rain finally got tired and stopped making waves. The sky was clear and bright. The sky was so blue, as blue as a flawless jade. The breeze came, the leaves were waving, and the leaves were so green, dazzlingly green. The birds are happy in the branches of the sky, and the crisp chirping is heart-jumping.

The white seagull-like bird, flapping its zigzag wings, lined up, and suddenly flew high into the air, and suddenly rowed down the trees. They are like the guardians of this jungle, roaming the woodland.

The pond surrounded by green forests still retains its rich beauty. The snow-white duck happily flapped its wingtips, stretched its neck and sang: the roaring thunderstorm is terrible, the nightmare is finally over, and the duck spring is here again.

The small pond is a paradise for ducks. Emerald waters, roaming elf-like ducks. They swim on the water, or look up to the sky and sing, or look down at the shadow and pity themselves.

Lotus leaves are like grass that cannot be burned by wildfires. After the drying up of winter, the pond reshaped by summer rain recreates the appearance of the fields. The lotus flowers bloom quietly, the pond is full of green trees and red flowers, and the lotus scene is making a comeback.

The white clouds gather into various forms, reproducing thousands of styles for the world. The small umbrella is displayed in the street, and the style of blocking the sun is also a unique scenery.

The moon rose and walked through the clouds, and the afterglow of the sun yellowed the skirts of the clouds. The cloud that kisses the moon is often a gentleman in black, and it sets off the moon fairy's white face with its veins and warmth. The fading clouds blurred the pale face and the ethereal figure. The stars are like lively children, blinking their clear eyes, looking curiously at Miaoman's Uma.

The clouds still changed their quiet face, the moon was like a boat breaking through the waves, gently passing through the waves, there were reefs blocking its way, it passed lightly, nothing could stop its progress.

Looking up at the sky, I can't help but spread the wings of infinite imagination......