水,她是旅行在沙漠间的人,最为希冀的东西;她是每一个古老文明的母亲;她的颜色映在地球的脸上;她的出现,让地球在七亿亿颗星体中与众不同。水是清灵的。她在石间轻吟,她在崖上长啸,或与月光厮摩,或与松影呢哝。这样的清灵,让多少文人骚客沉醉。“……此地有崇山峻岭,茂林修竹,又有清流激流湍映带左右……”一篇隽秀千古的文字,飞舞着水的清秀:“明月松间照,清泉石上流。”一联传诵百世的佳句,闪烁着水的灵光。“舍南舍北皆春水,但见群鸥日日来。”也许这就是杜少陵苦中寻乐的原由:“清水出芙蓉,天然云雕饰。”也许这就是李太白潇洒人格的来源。“山色有无中”,便是水的点染:“两岸青山相对出”,便是水的琢磨。清泉的水,修饰着中原大地。一处处清灵的风景,淘洗出中华清灵的华章。水不是悲慨的。他在黄土间跋涉,他在深谷中奔驰,或是追逐天际的一点远帆,或是揽着欲坠的孤星。这样的悲慨,让多少颗心震动。“风萧萧兮,易水寒……”这是对壮士不归的挽歌却是义的赞歌。“无边落木萧萧下,不尽长江滚滚来。”这是对晚秋凋木的哀叹却是对大江的感慨。“星垂平野阔,月涌大江流。”这是一个流浪的诗人,无限惆怅中的雄浑;“逝者如 Water, she is the traveler in the desert, the most desired thing; she is the mother of every ancient civilization; her color is reflected on the face of the earth; her appearance, so that the earth in the seven billion billion stars in the public different. Water is pure. She scorned between the stones, she shouted on the cliff, or with the moonlight, or with Song Ying. This kind of spirit, so many literati poetry intoxicated. “...here there are mountains, Maolin and bamboo, and there are clear streams and rushing streams...” A piece of text that reads through the ages and flamboyantly flutters with water: “The moonlight is between the pines and the springs are flowing.” The sentence of good fortune flashes with the aura of water. “Shenanshe north is spring water, but see the group of gulls come day and day.” Perhaps this is the reason for Du Shaoling’s bitter fun: “Rich water out of hibiscus, natural cloud carving decoration.” Perhaps this is the source of Li Taibai chic personality. “Nothing in the mountains” is the dyeing of water: “The opposite sides of the Qingshan Mountain are opposite” is the pondering of water. The springs of Qingquan are decorated with the Central Plains. There is a clear-cut landscape everywhere, and the Chinese chapter of Qingling is washed out. Water is not sorrowful. He trekked through the loess, he was running in the deep valley, or chasing the sky a little distant sail, or embraced the lone star. This sadness makes many hearts shake. “The wind is rustling, and water is cold...” This is a dirge for the warrior who is not returned but it is a righteous song. “Without the boundless fall of wood, the Yangtze River is not rolling.” This is a lament for the late fall, but it is a big feeling for Dajiang. “The star is wild and wide, and the moon is flowing through the river.” This is a stray poet, an invincible man; "The dead are like