And sink in your colorful landscape.
(Wen / Zang Quanxiu)
Taihang, you repeatedly paint the picture.
After you, eight hundred miles of Taihang, the wish of a flat plain will stay in the mountains. You came to me and walked across the sea of peaks on my way. I can't always listen to the melody of your Qing Song. I can't forget your touching ink and wash in the tenderness of the mountain. Flowing water can be embellished in memory. Vegetarian flower screen is full of somewhat rugged, gentle and charming. Knowing that you have already made a layout, you have the wonderful peak valley, the green sea and the green waves tonight. Green grass is your ups and downs. You are an ancient sea, uplifted mountains and rocks, gullies, the fall out of the five-fingered Gorge, Longquan Gorge clear, deduction of the real Zegong, Zituan Cave, Kowloon Cave deep. You finally rise at the lowest level, with the courage and perseverance of billions of years.
Although the lonely petals fade in the loneliness, you begin a new journey in the protrusion year after year. Are you my place? The beginning of the supreme realm is opened by you.
In the four seasons of reincarnation, a look back, in your colorful landscape. I do not know whether I should praise your magnificence or praise your beauty. I don't know how many peaks you can use to look back at your sea of clouds and clear water. Your gems of mountains are shining from the true to the true. Bow is Jiuzhaigou, looking up is Zhangjiajie. You are like a picture in the depth of time, with a delicate and elegant veil. The enchanting spirit is like a sprouting mood. I lose your way in your constantly rising drawings.
I did not go deep into your Yungai Temple, Chongyun Temple, Ten Thousand Buddha Temple, did not go deep inside the threshold of piety, a worldly spirit here Zen. I did not go into the purity of a white cloud. Your Zen Buddhism is self-evident. In many details, the strange danger you left in the depths of time is a constant warmth. Although your "catwalk" and "flyover" have been skillfully crafted, your feelings have been magnificent, ups and downs. But your silent feelings, such as a bright moon, are hanging on the happiness of the world.
You are simple, such as the Western folk style has a bold rough; you are open, will not retain their feelings in the eyes of the world.
No matter the ravine springs or cliffs, even the growth of trees and trees is just right. In a certain part of the cliff, it becomes a green jade belt. On the way to the mountain springs, the smooth stone walls, highlighting the vicissitudes of years, shaking the moss.
I see more people coming to you and seeing more seeds taking root. On your mountain, every inch of distance need not be measured, just a permanent tacit understanding, with elegant white feathers roaming.
"As the peak of the ridge, the distance is different." Although the original intention of the poem is not to describe you, it is the true depiction of you. Your bones are tolerant, amazing and steep, and your tenderness and tenderness are one. Your beauty is by no means single. In your rich feelings, you hide the wonders of the earth's crust. Your natural sound is the most sincere beauty in the world. Your rich feelings, full of pen and ink, outline more peaks and streams, more tender words, written in the eternal flowers and birds.
You are not only close feelings, those calm, sincere, self-improvement, singing the meaning of the world and perseverance.
In the meaning of your life, the mysterious Huguan canyon has long shaded from the sun. Your precipice, your knife, your axe, your mountain deep pool, the blue mirror. What kind of scenery, you can wade, cross the river, you can be a myriad of rocks, such as the practice of a silver waterfall across! In the jungle, the magnificent temple, the fascinating cave, the fascinating legend, has long been integrated. At the edge of your precipice, the pool of clear water has worn a smooth stone wall.
Thousand peaks and ten thousand walls, and lightly skim, become the eternal giant. On the side of the cliff, there is a bunch of green and a curtain of water falling down from the right height. Your bones are stiff and not lacking in tenderness.
You walk across the Chu River with long sentences in your arms, and touch the short words across the rhythm of the Han Dynasty. In the fragrant years, you resonate with the unparalleled harmony song in the world!
You are a piece of beauty, you are a piece of spring, in your magnificent mountains and rivers in the steep, gestating the magnificent peak. You are the sea of peaks, floating out of countless islands; you are the land of stones, building stone walls; you are the world of caves, giving birth to the depths of the world; you are the source of water, flowing endless springs.
Huguan Canyon, in the ocean of your life, lava islands, turned into thousands of peaks, thousands of gullies, those folded springs, containing ancient waters. The Wuzhi gorge and the red bean gorge are the feast of your landscape. The real Chak palace and the purple cave are your ancient delicacies.
In the singing mountain road, I walked the Baquanxia, Heilongtan, eighteen plates, walking a lifetime of unforgettable scenery. I can't say anything, a pillar of rocks in the sky, in the company of friends, suddenly bright and dark clouds all the way around the world. More colorful, broken walls, undulating group carvings softly whisper...
Huguan Canyon, I listen to your whisper, in the clear breeze and bright moon, your graceful appearance is outstanding, happiness is infinite. Let me listen to the melody flowing in the landscape of Taihang. Stopping at this moment, let all the rest of the red dust go away. Beautiful Pavilion, unfamiliar street fragrance. You forget my face, you forget it.
