Success
Success - what a sacred word. Everyone is pursuing it. As an ordinary person, of course I also pursue success. Of course, success is not a one-step process. It requires watering of blood and tears. It is the pinnacle of ideals.
My calligraphy has passed the seventh level. However, this seventh level is not easy to come by.
Last year, Teacher Zhang, who teaches calligraphy, said to us, "There is painting again during the summer vacation, and the calligraphy exams are coming. Students who think they can participate come to sign up here!" I also want to participate, but after practicing so much I have only passed CET-4 in calligraphy for a long time. I have never been good at writing. Can I do it? Go try it! Then, I went to Teacher Zhang and signed up. I heard from others that it is not easy to take the CET-7 exam, but you have to learn to write two fonts, which is not as easy as the last time I took the CET-4 exam. After hearing this, I felt a little nervous.
Since then, I have been busy.
In order to pass CET-7 this time, I practiced calligraphy every day during the summer vacation, hoping to master another font within a month. When I don't study from the teacher, I practice at home. I race against time and strive to gain something every day. Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and I had learned the second font, but I found that when writing on rice paper, the characters were not big enough and the strokes were not thick enough. So, I tried to gradually increase the font size and make it bold. In this way, step by step, the problems originally discovered no longer exist, and the handwriting is neither big nor small, neither thick nor thin, just right.
Finally the day of exams has arrived. In the examination room, I performed very well. In the past few months, the certificate for the exam came. I passed the level 7 exam. I succeeded!
The road of life is not smooth and broad; it is tortuous, full of difficulties and obstacles, and full of thorns; my success is nothing, the important thing is to strengthen my confidence and continue to work hard. I believe that success comes from hard work and hard work. Where can there be joy without bitterness?
As long as you work hard, the joy of success will wave to you on the other side of diligence.
My pain, my suffering, my pearl
How much I wanted to pick out the sharp and heavy sand for the clam, but I saw its pain, its suffering, turning into For the bright moon in the sea, a pearl.
How much I wanted to save the silkworm from the pain of spinning into a cocoon, but I witnessed its injury and its tears turn into flowing golden wings and a butterfly dance.
So I no longer run away from the ups and downs, so I no longer avoid the twists and turns, so I use my worn feet to smear the sunset on the path, so my scratched hands let the thorns bloom into cuckoos, so I will My pain, my suffering, are sharpened into my pearls.
How I want to erase the Anshi Rebellion and the pain of displacement for Zimei, and give him a peaceful sky for singing and dancing in Chang'an. However, the pain of the country being destroyed and the mountains and rivers destroyed, and the pain of the hut being destroyed by the wind, have turned into the sharpness of "Three Officials" and "Three Farewells", and the weight of the poems and history. I really want to relieve Meng Ruan of the sadness of his family's decline and the sadness of the world, and give him back the golden and prosperous land and water of Jiangnan. However, the pain of the family's four walls and the bitterness of the paper have turned into the golden wind and jade dew in the Grand View Garden. That gazing gaze a thousand times, the fantasy dream where the tears of the crimson pearl fairy grass in the mourning red pavilion shed on the world.
It is a literati who turns pain and suffering into poems in his writing, and the tearful eyes in the slips turn into a pearl in the deep sea of ??the literary world.
How I wanted to remove the injustice of fate that filled Beethoven’s ears and give him a sweet pastoral song by the Rhine. However, the pain of being rejected by fate and the pain of being abandoned by the gods turned into nothing. For the echoing call in "Ode to Joy", "Come, friends, don't be sad!" I want to dispel the shadow of life in Monet's eyes and return to him the sparkling waves on the Seine. However, the pain of blurred vision and the suffering of stubborn diseases turned into the whisper of light and shadow on the "Water Lily" pond, the water is blue and the sky is blue.
It is an artist who transforms pain and suffering into notes spinning between his fingers, and the unrestrained oil paint on the canvas turns into a long beach in the art garden, a pearl.
How much I want to cut off the sharp thorns on the firewood and drain the bitter water from the bile for Gou Jian. However, that pain, that suffering, cut through the green mountains and green mountains ten years ago, but ten years later, it has risen again. Three thousand Yue Jia became the ray of light pointing at Gusu Terrace. How much I wanted to find a corner of the porch for Zhu Yuanzhang to shelter from the wind and prepare a bowl of soup to satisfy his hunger. However, the pain and suffering supported him in the swarm of enemy troops at Poyang Lake until he won, and burned into flames at the end of Beijing's artillery fire. That yellow robe.
He is an emperor, and he will plant pain and suffering into a tree that can protect the world, and turn it into a scroll of history, a pearl.
We stop in the footsteps of the ancients and admire them. No matter how painful it is, the pages of the book are closed with just a sigh and a sigh. We are tossing and turning in the fate of our country, unable to bear to avoid it, unable to hide, it hurts like this, it hurts like this, we shed tears, we feel sad!
How I want to lift up the stone pillars of the Old Summer Palace and no longer listen to her cry about pain, a pain that cannot be relieved in a hundred years! But I saw her drinking this pain with tears, this suffering, struggling to stand on the top of the East and straightening the backbone of the nation; I want to stop the forklift outside the old Beijing city wall and no longer recall Mr. Liang Sicheng’s mourning Crying, but witnessing Beijing swallowing this pain with a smile, this suffering, walking towards the Bird's Nest and the Grand Theater with fifty years of staggering steps. How much I want to wipe out the national mourning on the river, how much I want to ignore the 9.8 billion anti-dumping complaint, but no, our China, after all, said, no. Like the determination of a silkworm, the sincerity of a clam, the pain of earing and jointing in our growth, the pain of wandering and searching in our rise, one day, we will be sharpened into our pearls.
Singing all the way through the wind and rain
I am silent and in pain. I am the one walking forward silently and alone, leaving a vigorous silhouette to the world.
I bloom, I bloom. It was me who was smiling faintly under the clear sky, giving the world a proud figure.
Dancing never ends!
Who is more lonely than whom? In front of the window in a foreign place, I looked at the migrating birds that came and went, my favorite lotus flower withered and bloomed again, and the tide in my memory receded and then advanced. The moon is setting and the crow is crying, your bare hands can no longer grasp the joyful oar, and the ink marks in the inkstone can no longer outline the old dreams. The ebb and flow, those pains are like pebbles falling in the lake of heart, exciting Waves of emotion arose, so on many lonely rainy nights, you bowed your head and chanted with your hands, and you received the praise of future generations. After going through pain, your love dances in the words, and its beauty will never end in people's hearts.
As the legacy passes by, among the handful of bright "pearls" we will not forget the talented woman: Li Qingzhao.
Bloom and never die!
Who is suffering more than whom? In the long night, I listened to the rain of cannonballs screaming in my ears, the painful moans echoed over and over again, and the scattered clothes and messy hair tips floated toward the sloping sky behind me. In your memory, the red lantern you hold tightly in your hand is the determination held in the hearts of the soldiers. As a result, those Ruochu were transformed into memorials of blood and tears, stirring up waves of your love and nourishing many injured hearts. After experiencing pain, your love blooms on the battlefield, and its beauty never fades in people's hearts.
Coming with holiness all the way, we call the angel in the shining "pearl": Nightingale.
Flying and never dissipating!
Who is more silent? While meditating silently, I recalled the bright moon over the Erting Spring in Huishan, Wuxi. At that time, when you were still young and not blind, you said: "Those two pools of spring water, one pool with falling moon and the other pool with falling stars, are the eyes of the night, seeing the light in the darkness." The falling moon hears the sound, and the bright moon shines. I can see pear blossoms, I can see mountains and rivers, I can also see homeless people who are dying. Therefore, those pains are like moonlight, caressing the skirts of mountains one by one, pulling the folds of water one by one, lighting up the eyes of the night one spring after another, and overflowing the hearts of everyone again and again. After going through hardships, your ambition will fly in the strings, and its beauty will forever ripple in people's hearts.
Taking the melodious journey away, we remember the everlasting voice in that round "pearl": A Bing.
You say that you can only envy the flying dance steps on the stage, because you can’t stand the pain day after day when you are on pointe. However, water droplets cut through stone omit the plain pain, and the vicissitudes of life omit the pain of change. What else can we have?