This describes the same meaning, the same scene, the previous song gives people the feeling that it is just a stuffy fart that even fails to tease, but with different words and sentences to change into a new outfit, it actually gives people a far-reaching artistic conception, a very beautiful artistic conception of simplicity and Taoism.
Everyone is confused, everyone is a poet, they all know the trick of making poetry, and occasionally one day a moment is blessed to the soul and inspiration, and it is not hopeless to produce a quatrain with such artistic conception.
However, this is changed in seconds from a song that is so bad that it falls off the scum, what a deep foundation and what an amazing talent it takes.
It's like painting on a blank piece of paper, and it's not too difficult to make a good painting as long as you have a deep foundation.
But to recreate a masterpiece without a trace on a graffiti that someone else has scribbled on is simply telling a big joke.
But today, everyone has vividly seen that some people have turned this kind of big joke into a myth without the slightest hint between talking and laughing.
As far as making poetry is concerned, this person's skills are no longer making poetry, but playing poetry, and he can play with poetry, an art that is in great need of inspiration and talent.
This kind of talent simply makes people feel a deep blasphemy against the art of poetry.
The master of this kind of talent, of course, everyone knows that he will not be the first prodigy of the Great Zhou royal family.
Everyone looked at Ye Feng's gaze, and suddenly they had mixed tastes, and they couldn't help but feel a burst of horror in their hearts: how much love the sky was, he actually created such a supreme freak with unprecedented cultivation talent and literary spirit.
Huang Rong looked at Brother Feng's expression, it was simply a ghost-like horror, Wen is like a person, this Brother Feng is obviously just a rough embryo obsessed with leveling and fighting monsters, how could he have such a poetic talent that shocks the world and weeps ghosts and gods Huang Rong didn't sign up for the poetry contest, just because she was lazy by nature and didn't like to be showy, and she just liked to watch laughter.
After thinking of Brother Feng's prestige as a little devil, Huang Rong was immediately relieved, a creature like a demon really can't be rationalized by normal logic, maybe poetry, a literary art that seems to everyone to be extremely draining, is just a joke that can be used to tease at will in Brother Feng's eyes.
Liu Bai's face is already as snow-white as his name, and there are not a few poems in this realm that he has written, otherwise he would not be able to mix up the name of the poetry demon.
But that's when inspiration strikes, and clever hands come by chance; In an exam like this with limited questions and time, and in the context of a cold day just taking a cold shower, he really couldn't hold back any inspiration for his masterpieces.
A Yongmei poem handed over by Liu Bai is just a well-behaved and gorgeous poem, and it is not difficult to get a high score, but the artistic conception is obviously a lot worse than this poem.
"Next, please ask the judges to score the Yongmei poems of the branded little prince."
Dean Nanguo glanced at Ye Feng with a playful look on his face, and said loudly.
Liu Bai opened his mouth, but finally didn't say anything, although even if he was blind, he could see that this poem was not written by the branded little prince, but this poem was really from the mouth of the branded little prince, the first time it came out.
Catch thieves and dirty, catch traitors and take doubles, Ye Feng has never recited any poems or pens in front of the branded little prince from beginning to end, and no one can find evidence of cheating.
Of course, no one will take a mouse to meddle in the matter of investigating the cheating of the little prince, this is the world's number one genius who is too hateful to himself, everyone is eager to use a five-year-old child's masterpiece to brush the face of this crazy man who has no one in his eyes.
"Ten ten, ten, ten, nine" After the elder god of the Nanguo dean sat down, the deacon of the event, a young and beautiful beauty, shouted, "The total score of the branded little prince is 99 points, which has broken the record of the competition."
Obviously, according to the quality of this poem, it should be a full score, but the judges tacitly left a little room left, and everyone is looking forward to the birth of another masterpiece.
"Nine points, nine points, eight points and eight points, the total score of Scholar Jiang is a very good 91 points" After the beautiful host yelled, Old Master Jiang was silent with a depressed face, what kind of poetry competition is this, I am afraid that I will not even be able to get the third place.
"Ten out of ten, nine points and nine points for the total score of the talented man Liu Dacai is 97 points that have already broken the previous record" Liu Dacai had an embarrassed look, but he didn't show much annoyance, he looked at Dean Nanguo who got up again with a look of hope, expecting him to chant a more expressive masterpiece in his mouth.
Although this guy has a bad temperament, he is a real talent fan, not only obsessed with his own talent, but also obsessed with the masterpieces created by real talents.
The crowd shook off the solitary beauty, occupying the charm to the small garden; The shadow is sparse and the water is shallow, and the dark fragrance floats in the dusk of the moon; The frost bird wants to steal the eye first, and the pink butterfly knows how to break the soul; Fortunately, there is a slight groan, and there is no need for a gold bottle of sandalwood. thunderclap This poem has just been chanted, the sky with light snow is floating, and there is no doubt that this is another masterpiece that resonates with heaven and earth.
"This poem should be the first in ancient and modern Yongmei poems" Dean Nanguo did not hesitate to establish its historical status for this poem as a giant in his literary world.
Liu Bai carefully tasted this Yongmei poem, which was rated as the first in history by the dean of Nanguo, tasted it, and couldn't help but turn to Ye Feng, in his eyes, there was no grudge, but an obsession like fire, and Ye Feng couldn't help but get goosebumps all over his body: Don't be obsessed with brother, brother is actually just a legendary copyist.
Everyone may wonder how a scumbag-level leveling madman can recite such an obscure and esoteric ancient poem There's no way, Xiao Ye Feng on the earth, when his fame is not loud, he has a lot of garbage to earn online game fees, and the best garbage to sell is of course waste books.
At that time, Xiao Ye Feng, who was quite lacking in spiritual civilization life, once used these Tang poems and Song poems, as well as ancient texts, Guanzhi, 24 histories, and so on, to turn the novels into novels, mainly for hypnosis before going to bed.
Originally, with the talent of leveling madness, these sour things that he couldn't understand at the time had long been swept into the trash bin of his brain's memory.
But he couldn't help but turn over the trash cans in his brain when the sky was opened, and even the more boring starry sky could be reprinted into his mind without falling, not to mention these amateur works of the ancients who could barely see a little bit of fun.
"Ten ten, ten, ten," the beautiful deacon yelled hysterically, "The masterpiece that can enter the Tao is of course a perfect score of 100 points" Huang Rong looked at Ye Feng and was confused again: This guy is obviously only half a year older than me, why can he play with words deeper than my father's brain hole of this creature, it is really unreasonable
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