Once upon a time, my hometown was prosperous, business contacts were endless, and children and old women laughed and laughed.

The bustling market and noisy streets can't stand the time until everything is looted.

Then turn around and bend down to pick up the bits and pieces of memory.

Jinlong is surrounded by mountains and waters, and the ancestral temple still exists.

Looking at the top of Zhu Rong from a distance, you can see the dog's head peak separated by water.

When I was a child, the train roared by, and now it has become a cool place.

Du Zhenyuan, a railway giant, has the domineering title of Jinlong Mountain.

The rising sun is like fire. Once upon a time, talented people came forth in large numbers.

There are many talented people all over the country, and their poems and popularity will last for hundreds of years.

A few years in the spring and autumn, only sunset red is left.

The opposite flute echoes from a distance, listening to the words of the riverside.

Rock grass gives birth to warblers, while children smoke from the river.

Xiangjiang River, a tributary of Shui Gu, is the hydropower hub of Dayuan River crossing the dam.

Sand boats come and go day and night.

Appreciate the beauty of the sunset glow, the water is sparkling and the fishing boat sings late.

The fishing boat came back from the net in the distance, and his wife and children shouted * * * for dinner.

Walking barefoot by the water, long hair fluttering in the evening breeze.

The sky is grey and the water is boundless.

Fishing boats moored by the river to go home swayed with the waves.

At the end of Shile Street, jujube trees are still lined up by sand boats.

The passenger ship washed down by natural disasters is full of memories of the childhood market.

The berthed dock ended in prosperity, leaving only remnants withered in the wind.

The rooster enjoyed the warm sunshine in the summer morning.

Hold your ground, sparse guests come and go between the two sides.

Small fishing boats and torpedoes are full.

A sunny day, picturesque rural scenery.

Smoke billows from kitchen chimneys, a land of fish and rice.

Love of Xiangjiang River, the history of Shile ancient town.

Remember, the fragrant smell of earth.

The railway that the train roared past, the road paved by the remains.

People come and go to polish the green banqiao, and now there are weeds.

A dilapidated pavilion, a remnant.

The unique beams have witnessed the rise and fall of generations.

The old house that has been wandering for a hundred years has left a mark of history, worn-out doorframes, rusty knockers and residual temperatures.

The groans of empty nesters in dilapidated old houses touched the human feelings of modern society.

The aftertaste of history should be particularly strong, but Zhu Yan changed it.

When crossing the street with a loud voice, the timbre of the erhu is also obvious. Once the sea was hard to find water, so I had to play.

Every household is diligent in farming and gets up early to greet people with a smile.

Children and grandchildren do not know each other. Memories are constantly being washed away, but the place where you were born and raised remains the same.

Schiller is still beautiful after a hundred years of vicissitudes.

Jinlong Mountain, through time and space, washes and sits proudly.

Once a gentleman was a courtier, a generation of mountains and rivers remained picturesque.

Time flies and time waits for no one. I once stooped in my prime. Prosperity is gone, history is vicissitudes, the old, the weak and the sick are waiting for their children and grandchildren to return home. Forced to make a living, wandering abroad, being in a foreign land, returning home with clothes on.

No matter where you are, you can't get rid of your hometown. Where you are, your heart is tied to an inch of land at home.

When you are old, you will return to your hometown, and you will recall the world with nostalgia.

Hometown will always be a pure land that accepts you with an open mind.