Moreover, he is the honorary chairman of the Beijing Poetry Association. He usually writes poems and lyrics. He writes more than a dozen poems every year, and two of them have been selected into teaching aids for middle school students. Although they are not textbooks, they can be selected into teaching materials.

It is enough to prove Chen Jian's ability in poetry.

Chen Ye smiled, recalled it, and said to his father: "Dad, I told you, please listen."

After finishing speaking, Chen Ye began to read in a cadence.

"When will the bright moon come? I'll drink my wine and ask the sky. I don't know what year it is in the palace in the sky. I want to ride the wind back, but I'm afraid that the towers and jade buildings will be too cold up there. I'll dance to clear the shadows, how can I feel like I'm in the human world."

After finishing the first part of the poem, Chen Jian was stunned. The dumpling wrapper in his hand fell on the table without knowing when, and a piece of the filling inside was scattered.

"Where is Xiaque? Read quickly, read quickly." Chen Jian couldn't help but urge.

Chen Ye couldn't help laughing at his father's reaction, and then at Chen Jian's urging, he recited the second part of the poem, "Turn to the Zhu Pavilion, lower the Qi household, shine without sleep. There should be no hatred, what's the matter?

When we say goodbye, is it perfect? ​​People have joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, and the moon waxes and wanes. This is a difficult thing in ancient times. I hope we can live together for a long time, and we can share the beauty of the moon thousands of miles apart."

After Chen Ye finished reciting "May we live forever and share the beauty of the moon thousands of miles apart," Chen Jian's already big eyes widened and he said loudly: "Good words, these are really good words, and they are so well written!"

Chen Ye groaned, looked at his father and asked, "Dad, how does this poem compare to yours?"

"The difference between cloud and mud!" Chen Jian said solemnly.

Chen Ye said: "Who is the mud? Who is the cloud?"

Chen Jian coughed slightly in embarrassment, "Of course I am mud."

Chen Jian is full of words, but when he heard this poem, the feeling of surprise, the trembling and excitement from the heart, is really difficult to describe.

"Whose word is this? What is the name of the word?" Chen Jian asked.

Chen Jian had just finished speaking, and before Chen Ye could answer, a gentle female voice came from outside the kitchen, "This is written by Tan Yue, and it appeared in the 40th episode of "Wulin Gaiden" yesterday. By the way, Xiao Ye

, do you know what the title of this poem is? It doesn’t seem to be written on TV.”

The person who came in with the voice was Chen Ye's mother, Chen Jian's wife, and the director of the General Administration of Culture, Ye Wen.

It turned out that Ye Wen had returned home just when Chen Jian and Chen Ye were talking. However, they were too focused and did not notice Ye Wen's return.

Chen Ye shook his head and said, "I don't know this either. I'll ask Mr. Tan later."

Ye Wen pulled up a chair and sat down and said: "This poem is very popular now. Everyone is discussing it. Some people say that once this poem came out, no one will dare to write Mid-Autumn Festival poems again."

Chen Jian nodded with deep sympathy. Compared to Ye Wen and Chen Ye, he is a professional poet and understands the amazingness and excellence of this poem better.

Chen Jian nodded with deep sympathy. Compared to Ye Wen and Chen Ye, he is a professional poet and understands the amazingness and excellence of this poem better.

Chen Jian nodded with deep sympathy. Compared to Ye Wen and Chen Ye, he is a professional poet and understands the amazingness and excellence of this poem better.
Chapter completed!