Look at the starry sky
The stars are shining and the wind is sunny. Taking the sky as a curtain and the ground as a seat, I just sat on the ground, enjoying the refreshing summer night, listening to a pool of frogs and looking at the starry night sky.
The sky is not pure black, but there is an infinite deep blue in black, which extends all the way to the distance. My eyes really want to penetrate this shady layer, and I really want to see what the end of the day is.
The sky is too vast, which makes me feel deeply small; The boundless universe makes me sigh that life is short. "fleeting", I seem to understand the helplessness of the ancients. Look at the starry sky, the night sky is still deep, the stars are still bright, and frogs are still singing.
Looking at the stars all over the sky, my heart moved. Stars are the stars that decorate the night sky and shed their brilliance on the earth, whether they are famous stars or nameless stars.
Yes, the universe is infinite and life is limited, but what's the regret? Since the development of human history, who can violate this objective law? However, why are many people like immortal stars in the sky, and their spirit and great achievements have been passed down to this day, and will even be passed down forever? The star blinked as if to confirm the correctness of my answer. One after another, frogs, drums and insects seem to congratulate my heart on being suddenly enlightened.
Grandparents and dads, like this nominal star, are pursuing, exploring and struggling in hardships, no matter how hot they are, there is how bright. Indeed, life is limited, and individuals are small, but I want the stream of my life to flow into the long river of history, never stop and shine forever.
Looking up at the starry sky, the night sky is still deep, the stars are still bright, and frogs and insects in the field are playing beautiful music.
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (2)
Beautiful spring
The dead of winter is fleeting, and the new year is coming. In this sunny March, the botanical garden has taken on a new look.
Stepping into the gate and looking out, the spring is full. In the sky, magpies are happily playing the waltz of sound of spring; On the earth, there are many flowers, and hardworking worker bees add a little youthful vitality to it. Peach trees, apricot trees and pear trees are all in full bloom, and you won't let me or I won't let you. Red as fire, pink as chardonnay and white as snow. When people are immersed in its beauty, the fragrance wafts from time to time. This delicate fragrance makes you intoxicated and fascinated, but you can't bear to faint. You will enjoy the best things in the world.
The grass crawled out of the soil, tender and green. Sitting and lying, everyone walks barefoot on the grass. The grass is continuous, giving people a soft feeling.
"Blowing your face does not make you feel cold", like a mother's hand rubbing on her body. Gentle breeze blows over your face, with the smell of newly turned earth, wrapped in grass, mixed with all kinds of flowers, brewing in the humid air. There is a winding river in the garden. The clear river is like a boat full of fish and shrimp. Standing on the bridge, listening to the sound of running water at the bridge below, it seems that I have come to the mysterious Peach Blossom Creek and stared at the dreamlike beauty of the Peach Blossom Garden. Spring is not like the anxiety in summer, the cold in autumn and the desolation in winter. It is gentle and considerate.
There are more kites in the sky. In the laughter, people had a good time. Old people play chess, young people play football, children fly kites ... the plan of the year lies in spring, and people should cherish the good times and live every day.
"Advise you not to cherish gold clothes, and advise you to cherish youth." Be sure to fold straight when the flowers bloom, and don't wait until there are no more flowers to fold the branches. "
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (3)
Listening to the rain, I was really intoxicated.
If you stubbornly believe that listening to rain in summer is too noisy, listening to rain in autumn is too bleak, and listening to rain in winter is too rare, then listening to rain in spring must open the window and turn off the lights. Listening to the spring rain is impeccable.
"sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently." When nameless troubles come, when everything in the world falls into silence, when several dogs bark to break the silence, please listen carefully. ...
Rain falls from the sky, falls on the branches, falls on the roof, along the eaves, falls on the ground, and finally falls into the soil … Listen, listen carefully …
The rain is lingering and gently blown by the evening breeze, forming a harmonious movement, which is very rhythmic, sometimes slow and sometimes sharp ... Listen, listen carefully. ...
Do you feel that you have merged with nature?
This rain, singing softly, hollows out your thoughts, expresses your melancholy, interprets your doubts, fills your imagination, and makes you feel as if you have become a drop of rain, a tree, a grass, a bunch of flowers, a handful of soil ... This rain makes time seem to freeze, and only the clock on the wall tells you that life is still going on.
Listen, listen, I seem to be in a winding alley, extending far away, and I also met a girl with lilac-like sadness, a girl with a dream like a wind like a cloud.
This rain purified my soul and made me find a pure land and a comfort in my own world. Will my growing regrets become beautiful in this gentle song? The rain is so pure, as pure as my tears, in which I can't see myself clearly.
Too much missing, too much nonsense, too much feeling, too much melancholy, too much missing can only be released one by one in this drizzly day.
Tear up the last calendar, so I go to be a memory, I look for it carefully, I wait forever, expecting a brand-new myself, leaving a rainy night and a new footprint. ...
Listening to the rain, listening to the spring rain, can not be explained in words, can only understand. ...
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (4)
Youth has no inn.
The wind and the moon flow like water.
Time at the same pace, slowly through the spring, summer, autumn and winter, through a few months of rain or shine. Looking back suddenly, the distant days are shaking like kaleidoscopes, inadvertently shaking out patterns that can't be imitated, and gathering together to be out of print. Then I know that youth is a one-way street, there is no going back, and there is no post station.
The morning bell and the evening drum urge me to raise the sail of the voyage, but my heart is like a leaf, wandering on the old branch. It was hard for me to give up in yesterday's wind. I also know that I shouldn't delay my trip, but I can't get rid of my feelings. I can't dust everything I once owned in the castle of memory, and the day of rebirth is locked. I walked through the sunset, and the moon rose every day, as if standing in a clear river. That clear river is my life, I only have one time, but I stand in the water too often, let the upstream water flow through me, become the downstream water, let the future flow through me and become the past. However, I was too addicted to yesterday.
I often fantasize that when spring and autumn are history, I will sit in the memory of yesterday covered with snowflakes and chew the stories hidden in every gully on my face. What kind of mentality is this! I believe very little when I should know a lot, but I am still confused by the jokes of "wolf coming" again and again; I love spring more after winter, which should be a fairy tale, but I still miss "Snow Boy". The journey seems to be a circle, and after a long journey, it returns to the starting point. So many times we are doing the same thing, that is, looking for a goal.
I thought hard in the dark and finally deciphered that the simplest grass, ordinary plums, has a mystery, which is an intuitive teaching aid for life: flowers can only be red once and grass can only be green for one year. The dead are like this, and the past is like smoke.
It has drifted with the monsoon, so there is no need to pursue and recall it. There are countless passengers on the train of youth, and no one can predict what will happen along the way, and no one can return to the starting point of boarding. Since I have no choice, let me crush the frustrations and contentment on the track of time, and then open the doors and windows to soak in the fresh air and sunshine to welcome a brand-new trip. Because I already know that youth is a one-way bus, which can't go back and has no post station.
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (5)
Yin xintong
China has a long history, and our ancestors left many cultural treasures, such as China's kung fu, Chinese painting, calligraphy and so on, which are envied by other nations in the world. Ancient poetry is also an excellent traditional culture in China.
The development of ancient poetry in China has a long history of several thousand years. She deeply reflects life and expresses her feelings with simple words and rhythm. Ancient poetry takes us to swim in the long river of history, edifies our hearts and makes us understand a lot of truth. You see, the phrase "the sky is grey, the wild is boundless, the wind blows grass low, and the cattle and sheep are low" makes us truly feel the grandeur of the prairie; Bai Juyi's Memory of Jiangnan takes us to appreciate the beautiful scenery of Jiangnan. "Insist that the castle peak will not relax and root in the broken rock" has aroused people's tenacious fighting spirit ... what a beautiful ancient poem!
I like ancient poems. I started reciting when I was in kindergarten. The earliest ancient poem I can recite is Ode to Goose, which my mother recorded for me with a tape recorder. My grandfather knew that I like ancient poems and gave me a set of "300 Ancient Poems". Every time I recite an ancient poem, I write the date next to the title. My mother will also tell me the story of every ancient poem. Up to now, I can recite almost seventy ancient poems. My mother said that reciting ancient poems can enlighten my thoughts and lay the foundation for my future writing. Once, my family went to play in Panlong Gorge and saw a spectacular waterfall. I couldn't help chanting a poem: "Flying down to thousands of feet, it is suspected that the Milky Way has fallen for nine days." Mom and dad listened and praised me again and again. I chuckled with joy.
What a beautiful ancient poem! I like ancient poems, and I will continue to read many, many ancient poems.
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (6)
A gust of autumn wind blows, and everywhere is full of autumn breath. Uncle Qiu Feng is busy delivering the good news to everyone.
Uncle Qiu Feng came to the forest, and the leaves of buttonwood turned yellow, like a pair of big hands greeting everyone. The leaves sang in the autumn wind, and then reluctantly bid farewell to the tree. Mother danced beautifully, like a yellow butterfly falling to the ground. There is a thick layer of leaves on the ground, as if it were covered with a yellow cotton-padded jacket. The maple leaf was also blown red by Uncle Qiu Feng, and it was as red as fiery red, passionate and unrestrained.
Uncle Qiu Feng came to the field to cook rice. They were bent by the heavy ears of rice. But the radish beside the field is more energetic, so green and so bright.
Uncle Qiu Feng came to the park and blew away the chrysanthemums. Yellow chrysanthemums are tightly wrapped together, like a fluffy ball petal; White chrysanthemums are like fireworks in full bloom, with slender petals scattered around; The purple chrysanthemum is like a small sun, with a circle of petals stretching around the short petals gathered in the middle. ...
Ah, autumn is really colorful, colorful!
Excerpts from Beautiful Composition (7)
Golden beach, boundless blue sea, undulating waves, seagulls flying freely ... I can't get enough of the scenery in front of me, just like a vivid and colorful picture.
On the beach as soft as a blanket, we waded through ankle-deep water and looked down carefully for small shells, small fish, shrimps and crabs pushed up by the waves. In order to pick up beautiful shells, we rolled up our trouser legs, put down the bucket we were carrying, crouched down, picked up a small shovel and dug up excitedly. I clenched my shovel with both hands and shoveled hard. Soon, a deep bunker appeared, but I didn't even see the shadow of a small shell. I wondered, "How can you not dig? Haven't you chosen a place? Why don't you change places? " So I took two steps forward and dug hard again. A minute later, the shovel seemed to hit something hard. I'm glad I finally got it! I didn't know it was a pebble until I pulled the sand away, which really disappointed me. Mom and dad dug half a bucket of shells. What about me? At this time, a chubby little crab crawled sideways and walked slowly with those big pliers. I quietly walked over and was about to reach out. The little crab stood up at once. I jumped up and the crab put out its pliers. "ah!" I couldn't help screaming, and the crab suddenly grabbed my hand. Uncle fisherman rushed over, grabbed the crab and snatched it from me. I wiped my finger, but fortunately I was not caught bleeding. At this time, my uncle saw that my bucket was still empty and seemed to understand my mind. He touched my head and said kindly, "It's not easy to dig shells!" First, hold this shovel gently, and then shovel it slowly. When you hear a click, it means there are small shells, and then take them out one by one and connect them with small barrels. "
After listening to uncle fisherman's words, I held a glimmer of hope. This time, I took a shovel in one hand and fingered it gently. After a while, the sound of "cut, cut, cut" rang. Three small shells are lying quietly on the beach. I'm surprised and happy. I held them in my palm and observed them carefully. Shells are red, yellow and brown, and the patterns on them are various and beautiful. These colorful shells are distributed in the ocean like stars in the sky. What a charming fairy tale world this is!
With this experience, I continued to dig happily, and gradually I had more than half a bucket of small shells in my bucket. Looking at these colorful shells, my heart is as sweet as honey. This trip to sea is really interesting.