Poems about the most beautiful laborers 1. Labor poetry
Shen Li, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, can be said to have written the hardships of laborers to the extreme. His poem "Compassion for Farmers" is well known to all women and children: "It was noon when weeding, and sweat dripped down the soil. Who knows that the Chinese food on the plate is hard. " The whole poem vividly depicts the scene in which the farmers are still working in the fields in the scorching sun, and sweat drips on the scorching land. Feng Menglong of the Ming Dynasty wrote a poem: "Wealth has no roots, but hard work gains it." Tell people that all wealth and glory are created through hard work. Besides, both Liu Yuxi's Wang Yin after Beauty Jewelry are full of stormy waves. Or Zheng Ao's "a grain of Redmi, a few drops of blood." Everyone is telling us to know how to respect the working people and cherish the hard-won fruits of labor. Li Shimin, Emperor Taizong, set an example in this respect. He educated the prince like this: "When I eat, I will miss the difficulty of farming;" When I put on my clothes, I will think of the hardships of textile. " This means that whenever I dress and eat, I will feel the hardships of farmers and weaver girls.
Life is beautiful because of labor, and beauty is wonderful because of hard work. In the Song Dynasty, Fan Chengda described the scene of farmers beating rice all night in Four Seasons: "Laughter is like thunder, and flail sounds bright all night." Write the joy of farmers' harvest and the joy of labor. In another poem of his own with the same name, there is a cloud: "During the day, there is a good show at night, and the children in the village take care of each other." Children and grandchildren are not prepared to farm and weave, but also learn from mulberry trees to grow melons. "He also described several interesting farm production scenes, such as men plowing fields, women weaving hemp, and children learning to grow melons. Li Bai wrote countless poems in his life and handed down nearly a thousand poems. He has a poem "Qiupu Song: Fire shines on heaven and earth": "Fire shines on heaven and earth, and red stars are everywhere. On a moonlit night, the song moves the cold Sichuan. "This is a poem that describes and praises smelters positively. It is rare in China's voluminous classical poems, so it is precious. Through just 20 words, we can easily feel the hardships of smelting workers and the praise between the lines of the author.
May is a busy season for wheat harvest. Ripe wheat stings like a golden ocean. The breeze blew and rustled. Bai Juyi wrote in his famous poem "Looking at Wheat Cutting": "Tian Jia has less leisure in the month, and people are twice as busy in May. In the evening, the south wind rises and the wheat turns yellow. Mother-in-law is rich in food, and children are full of pot pulp. Go with Tian Xiang. Ding Zhuang is in Nangang. Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun. I don't know how hot it is, but the summer is long. " It describes the scene of women taking their children to the fields to deliver food and water to young people who are cutting wheat. Hard-working young and middle-aged farmers cut wheat with their heads down in Nangang wheat field, their feet were fumigated by the heat, and their backs were baked by the scorching sun. They are exhausted and don't feel hot. They just cherish the long summer and can do more farm work. Agree 2| Comment
2. Praise the ancient poems of laborers
Guan Mo-mai Author: Bai Juyi Age: Tang genre: Five ancient categories: unknown family has few idle months, and people are busy in May.
In the evening, the south wind rises and the wheat turns yellow. Mother-in-law is rich in food, and children are full of pot pulp.
Go with Tian Xiang. Ding Zhuang is in Nangang. Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun.
I don't know about the heat, but I regret the long summer. There is a poor woman with a child on her back.
Grab the ear with your right hand and hang the basket with your left arm. Listening to his words of concern is very sad.
The family lost all their taxes, so they took this to satisfy their hunger. Today, I have no merit, and I have never worked in farming and mulberry.
There are three hundred stones in the land, and there is surplus food at the age of eight. I am ashamed to read this in private, and I can't forget it every day.
Note: This poem was written by Yuan He when he was the county governor (now Zhouzhi, Shaanxi) in the second year (807). This is the author's famous satirical poem in his early days. This poem is clear in narration, natural in structure, clear in hierarchy and strong in logic.
At the beginning of the poem, the background is explained first, indicating that May is the busy season for wheat harvest. Then write down that women lead their children to the fields to give food and water to young people who are cutting wheat.
Later, it described young farmers cutting wheat with their heads down in Nangang wheat field, fumigating their feet with the heat, and baking their backs in the hot sun. They are tired and don't feel hot, but they just cherish the long days in summer and can do more work. At this point, the farmer's hard work has been strongly demonstrated.
Then I described another sad scene: a poor woman, with a child in her arms and a broken basket in her hand, was picking wheat by the wheat harvester. Why are you picking wheat? Because her family's fields have "lost all taxes"-sold to pay the palace tax, and now there is no land to plant and no wheat to harvest, so we have to rely on wheat to satisfy our hunger.
These two scenes are intertwined, with both differences and connections: the former reveals the hardships of farmers, while the latter reveals heavy taxes. Since heavy taxes have made poor women lose their fields, they will also make this peasant family who is cutting wheat lose their fields.
Today's wheat pickers are yesterday's wheat pickers; Today's wheat harvesters may become tomorrow's wheat harvesters. Strong irony is self-evident.
The poet linked the pain of farmers' life with the ease of his own life, feeling ashamed and unable to calm down for a long time. This lyric text is the essence of the whole poem.
It is the product of the author's touching feelings and shows the poet's deep sympathy for the working people. Bai Juyi wrote satirical poems with the aim of "only making people sick, and I hope the emperor knows."
In this poem, he made a sharp contrast between the peasants and himself as a court official with his own personal feelings, that is, he hoped that the "son of heaven" was affectionate and tactful, which could be described as well-intentioned. Bai Juyi is the master of art who is best at writing narrative poems.
His narrative poems can fully express people's feelings and things, and write the events described in them in twists and turns. Moreover, his narrative poems always contain the revelation of the soul, so they always contain feelings.
Although he didn't write much in Watching the Wheat Harvest, he vividly described the hard and painful life scenes of the wheat harvesters and gleaner during the summer harvest. Not only wrote things, but also wrote hearts, including the author's own heart and the hearts of working people.
The poet's heartstrings were obviously shaken and trembled by the tragic scene he heard and witnessed, so he raised his pen to express his feelings directly, and his lines were full of sympathy and pity for the workers. Poems such as "It's full of rustic heat, which makes my back burn" and "My land has lost all taxes, so I can take this to satisfy my hunger" contain the author's sympathy and pity! Therefore, in the narrative of this poem "Looking at Wheat", there is the infiltration of the author's feelings and the beating of his heart, and the author's heart is integrated with what he tells.
What is commendable is that while describing the working people, the author can also truly write the voices of the working people, especially depicting the abnormal psychology of the working people in a certain situation and profoundly revealing the theme of the poem. In The Charcoal Man, "Poor man's clothes are simple, but he is worried about charcoal, wishing it would be cold", describing the abnormal psychology of the old man who sells charcoal because of food and clothing.
"I don't know the heat when I'm exhausted, but I regret the long summer" in "Watching Wheat Cutting" is also a kind of abnormal psychology. This description depicts the working people's hearts in detail and goes deep into the details.
The perfect unity of writing and writing in poetry is more shocking than the general unity of narrative and lyric. Bai Juyi is also an expert in using contrast techniques.
In his poetry creation, he not only compared the poverty and kindness of the working people with the luxury tyranny of the landlord class, but also compared his own comfort with the poverty of the working people. After writing about the hardships and pains of farmers in the hot summer, the poet also thought of himself, feeling that he had no "merit" and "didn't work for farmers and mulberry", but he was paid "three hundred stones" and still had "surplus grain" by the end of the year, so he was "ashamed of it and couldn't forget it every day".
It was very rare for poets to take the initiative to compare with farmers at that time. This contrast is really novel, accurate, commendable and thought-provoking, which shows the ideological height of this poem.
At noon, sweat dripped down the soil. Who knows, every grain of food is hard. Silkworm Girl ① [Song] Zhang Yu ② entered the city yesterday, and ③ returned with tears in her face. (4) Those covered by Luo Qi (6) are not sericulturists.
Note ① Silkworm (c2n) female-a woman who keeps silkworms. Silkworm, an insect, spits silk as an important textile raw material, which is mainly used for spinning silks and satins.
② Zhang Yu (Y *), a poet in the Song Dynasty. The year of birth and death is unknown.
Few words are stupid. Pixian, Yizhou (now Pixian, Sichuan) people.
In his later years, he lived in seclusion in Qingcheng Mountain, Sichuan, calling himself Mr. Baiyun. His works include White Clouds.
(3) the city-doing business, buying and selling goods. This refers to selling silk.
Towels-handkerchiefs or other small pieces of cloth are used for wiping. All over the body
6. Luo Qi (Q! )-the floorboard of silk fabrics. Luo, plain or thin silk.
Silk fabrics with patterns or patterns. In poetry, it refers to clothes made of silk.
A woman who lives in the countryside and raises silkworms for a living went to the city to sell silk yesterday. When she came back, she was in tears, and the sad tears even soaked the towel.
Because the people she saw wearing beautiful silk clothes in the city were not silkworm farmers who worked as hard as her! Not many people appreciate Zhang Yu's poems, but this song "Silkworm Girl" makes him very happy.
3. Poems praising laborers
Standing on the head of Red May
Go deep among workers
Feel the jumping notes in the sun.
accidentally
drop
Touch the silent fruit forest
In the land of silence
suddenly
The sonorous song of labor sounded.
Echoes in the hearts of hundreds of millions of workers.
Reverberating between the blue sky and white clouds
The sound of birds falling on trees
A hot morning
cannot help doing
sunlight
rain and dew
spring breeze
Promote the flower of civilization in the city.
Popularize the fruits of rural labor
Full of beautiful scenery
Under the fluttering notes
Singing the song of labor happily
Song of labor
Bring good news of spring sowing.
Take Xia Yun's hope.
Let poetry fill the earth.
Any point dyeing painting
Song of labor
Eternal singing
Notes are constantly arching out of the ground.
Fruitful fruit
delicious
Fragrant and sweet
Spring breeze and spring rain blow vilen,
Began to form a long layer of green.
On that towering iron tower and the layer-by-layer distribution network,
There is a busy scene of line maintenance workers.
The wind plays on the wire with warm hands.
Cheerful music, in loneliness
Sing an accompaniment for the workers in the vast sand sea,
Deserts and uninhabited Gobi
Because of their existence, they are full of energy and spirit.
In order to make the town near the desert have night lights,
In order to make thousands of workers use electric energy safely and continuously.
In order to build the motherland,
Our electrical workers
From the night shift to the moonlight sandstorm,
Patrol, repair and eliminate defects
From barren land to noisy streets,
From the overhead line to every corner of the ground cable,
Check it carefully,
Don't let every hidden danger slip away from your eyes. ...
This is the Lightbringer.
A festival dedicated to one's own workers
The truest hymn
4. Poems about laborers
1, weeding at noon that day, sweat dripped down the soil.
Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard? 2. Fisherman on the River Fan Zhongyan came and went on the river in the Northern Song Dynasty.
But I like perch beauty. Look at those poor fishermen, floating up and down in the big waves and rocking in the boats.
Zhang Yu, a silkworm girl in the Northern Song Dynasty, entered the city yesterday and returned with tears. Those who wear Luo Qi are not silkworm farmers.
4, see Mai Tang Bai Juyi Tian Jia has less leisure months, and people are twice as busy in May. In the evening, the south wind rises and the wheat turns yellow.
Mother-in-law is rich in food, and children are full of pot pulp. Go with Tian Xiang. Ding Zhuang is in Nangang.
Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun. I don't know about the heat, but I regret the long summer.
There is another poor woman with her son in her arms. Grab the ear with your right hand and hang the basket with your left arm.
Listening to his words of concern is very sad. My family's taxes are gone, so I can take this to satisfy my hunger.
Today, I have no merit, and I have never worked in farming and mulberry. There are three hundred stones in the land, and there is surplus food at the age of eight.
5. Shen Li Chuntian planted a millet and harvested 10,000 seeds in autumn. There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death.
5. Poems praising laborers
May of the earth, adolescence of seedlings; Winter wheat heading and filling, peach, plum and apricot hanging fruit and pressing branches.
Labor painting shows the vitality of all things; Green cheers the world everywhere, and the warm May can't tolerate any negativity! May, the peak of labor, the brilliance of diligence in spring, everything is so realistic; The ambition to welcome the Spring Festival has grown into a colorful poem in May. In addition to the stale past of the old year, it has already been scrubbed by the spring rain; In May, life will usher in a more spectacular and prosperous summer.
May, look at how powerful your hands are; In May, I watched my feet walk out of the miracle. The earth keeps pace with the times in May, and there will be golden fruits in autumn; Down-to-earth life in May can resist the stormy weather in hot summer.
Check Labor Day in May; Wealth is labor, and labor is wealth. If you get something for nothing, you should always despise it. Let May be an aphorism praising labor, and make hundreds of millions of hearts beautiful! Poetry series of May Day Labor Day.
6. Who can help me think of a poem praising the most beautiful workers? (you must write it yourself, you can't. 7. What are the poems praising laborers?
"Ode to the May Day" Spring breeze and spring rain swept vilen, and a long layer of green was awakened. On the high iron tower and the distribution network, there is a busy scene of line maintenance workers. The wind played cheerful music on the wires with warm hands and sang an accompaniment for the workers in the lonely sea of sand. Because of their existence, the deserted Gobi is full of vitality and high spirits. In order to make the town near the desert have a bright night, and for thousands of workers in Qian Qian to use electricity to build the motherland safely and continuously, our electric workers will return to the moonlight war and sandstorm, patrol the lines, repair and eliminate the defects from barren fields to noisy streets, and carefully check every corner from overhead lines to underground cables to prevent every hidden danger from slipping away from their eyes ... This is the messenger of light. Love labor Our simple wish is endless labor, which is to make labor a virtue and craft and pass it on from generation to generation. This tradition and habit of going deep into the bone marrow is as irresistible as my father's face. Day after day, year after year, we carefully hold the fields in our hands. Working in the countryside and working in Sige is the only way for us to mature. Now happiness begins with simple labor. Surrounded by fields and villages from all angles, we love labor, our tired bodies are pure and our souls are peaceful. Under the protection of labor, my body is grateful in the beating of the sun. There is a metallic voice and a seductive voice hovering over the land, which makes us feel the taste of the land more deeply. Labor makes us gush like sweat. Endless silence, like feathers beating on metal, we were born to work. We took off the scales and infiltrated into the soil with the rain. In a mature season of golden dance, we are full of fragrance and love labor. Song of Labor stands on the head of Red May and goes deep into the hearts of workers. The jumping notes in the sun fell inadvertently and touched the silent fruit forest. The power of labor suddenly sounded on the silent earth. The song echoed in the hearts of hundreds of millions of employees, among the blue sky and white clouds, the trees were full of birds and flowers. I can't help getting up in the morning. Sunshine, rain, dew and spring breeze drive the flowers of urban civilization and the fruits of rural labor. The beautiful scenery with eyes is full of joy, singing the song of labor under the flying notes, bringing the good news of spring sowing, bringing the hope of Xia Yun and making the earth full of poetry. Constantly arching fruit-laden mountain ridges, delicious and sweet "Song of Labor Day", bending down to plow farmers' waists, bending down to sweat in May, there is solar wind, bright green grass, laughter wrapped in festive red colored silk, peaceful smoke rising and rising, becoming the pupil of the city, finding a high degree of majesty, this ancient square noun. Irresistible, creeping labor trumpets climbed to the top of the tower, climbed into flying objects, climbed into the solar system in the splendor of Xinghan, and fell into fantasy. I thought of Eden, nudity and a leaf. I thought of stone hunting, the first shining spark struck by human beings with flint, papermaking, compass powder and movable type printing, and Newton was hit in the head by a falling apple. Labor is a kind of wisdom and happiness that God has given to mankind. We stretch our muscles and let the spring breeze touch the fresh veins of the river and walk out of the poor swamp. We write with poetry and live a poetic life. "Singing Labor" sings about labor. In this season when flowers wake up and willow branches dance, I sing about an earthworm crawling under soft soil. This peristalsis is the most beautiful dance. It is very consistent with the kneeling posture of farmers farming and sowing. The golden rice fragrance filled with some soybeans has become the most beautiful dance god in this land with abundant soil moisture. 2. Singing and working in a remote hometown village thousands of miles away, I sang about my old rural mother. She didn't know that one day in May was Mother's Day. She only knew that she would raise the smoke early and then hoe it off, and go to the ridge to let the dripping sweat beat the harvest. Looking at Mai Miao is like her lush daughter. Growing up in green, singing and working in the depths of the 800-meter dark and hardened center of the earth, singing a dark and bright miner's lamp. Its flame is a salty mine disaster, spraying sweat, making those bony bones harder, and countless black hands holding another dawn. At this time, the rising warm sun is lighter than the air. Heavier than a stone, singing and working in every quiet or noisy street in the city, I sang a leisurely dancing broom, which was silent. A body close to the earth put on some rouge, dressed up the city's broom about ordinary and great, about humble and noble dancing, and commented on the beautiful dance. Singing works in the white delivery room of a nearby hospital. I sing the happy cries of every newborn baby, loud and melodious. If happy notes dance on the tired sweat of female nurses, I really want to dedicate the most beautiful poems to them, so that I can face them-these holy angels, my weak poems, how humble the "May 1 Golden Week has arrived", the wind is warm and the rain is soft, and the sun is shining. We are in a wonderful mood. Who will I arrange for when the May Day Golden Week comes? I will calculate the RMB for the scenic spots in an all-round way. Every happy smile is a magic ticket. I stranded my heart in entertainment. Cars? Still running with the national mood, flying all over the world, taking time to spend these seven days, my legs are sore and my heart is tired, but I regret leaving a trace of unspeakable helplessness in my life. It is true that I became the master of money, and money enslaved me. The May Day Golden Week is coming, and the scenery is very warm. In sunny May, will service be corroded by hypocrisy and vanity? Labor day song, how happy the workers are at work and how sunny the sun is. In the beautiful sunshine, trees and green leaves are dancing quickly, and machines are singing praises for the festival. No matter how ordinary your post in your is, you are creating a new life. When you rest, you are working for a better life. This is the eternal melody of human beings and the song in the hearts of workers. Only ordinary workers can show their greatness.
8. Poetry praising the laborers around you
On the ridge
Author: Hu Dashao
Dusk time
A piece of Xia Guang slanted on the quiet ridge.
At that time, the treetops were still painted with faint rouge.
Wave to me in the wind
Beside the road are quiet seedlings.
Waving elite clothes
Show off to me
How did she conquer the land and break through it?
Not far.
The jingle of telephone poles
afterwards
A woman in a thin coat
Is walking at a brisk pace
With the water of life
Want to be closer.
It seems to have come to my heart! ! ! ! !
9. Poems praising laborers
1, 14 Tang Qiupu 17: Li Bai shines on the sky and the red star is in purple smoke.
On the night of the moon, copper smelters sang, and their songs resounded through the cold valley. Flames are blazing, red stars are splashing, purple smoke is transpiration, and the vast world is illuminated by red flames.
Copper smelters sing while working on a bright moon night. Their songs broke the silent night and shook the cold river. 2. Silkworm Girl Song: Zhang Yu entered the city yesterday and returned with tears.
All over Luo Qi are not silkworm farmers. Yesterday I went to town to sell silk, and when I came back, tears soaked my towel.
Why are you so sad? I saw rich people dressed in silk and satin, but none of them were sericulturists. 3. The farmer looks at the sunny day in the Tang Dynasty: always taste the west wind and rain in Qin to ask the west wind to return sooner or later.
White-haired old farmers stand out from the crowd, and clouds open in the high places of wheat fields. It was once said that it would rain when the west wind blows in Qin (now Shaanxi). Zephyr, when will you go back? The gray-haired old farmer stood on the highland of the wheat field for a long time, hoping that the dark clouds would disperse and the sun would reappear.
4, selling charcoal Weng Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi sold charcoal Weng, reduced salary and burned charcoal Nanshan. His face was covered with dust, which was the color of smoke burning, his temples were gray, and his ten fingers were burnt black.
What is the money for selling charcoal for? Buy clothes, buy food in your mouth. Pity that he is wearing thin clothes, but he is worried that charcoal can't be sold, hoping it will be colder.
At night, it snowed a foot thick outside the city. Early in the morning, the old man drove a charcoal wheel to the market. Cows are tired and people are hungry, but the sun has risen very high. They are resting in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
Who is that proud man riding on two horses? It was the eunuchs in the palace and eunuchs who did it. The eunuch, with documents in his hand and the emperor's orders in his mouth, shouted at the petrified palace.
A load of charcoal, more than 1000 kilograms, eunuch attendants to drive away, the old man is helpless, but there is no way. Those people put half a piece of red yarn and a piece of silk on their heads as the price of charcoal.
An old man who sells charcoal cuts wood and burns charcoal in Nanshan all the year round. His face is covered with dust and smoke, his temples are gray and his fingers are black.
What is the money from selling charcoal for? In exchange for clothes and food. It's a pity that he only wears thin clothes, but he is worried that charcoal is worthless and hopes it will be colder.
It snowed a foot thick outside the city at night, and at dawn, he was driving a charcoal car rolling on the ice road to the market. The cow was tired and the man was hungry, but the sun had risen high, so he rested in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
Who are those two high-flying riders? They are eunuchs in the palace, eunuchs. Holding documents in their hands, they shouted the emperor's orders and shouted that cows would pull into the palace.
A load of charcoal, 1000 kilograms, the eunuchs insisted on washing it away, and the old man tried to give up, but he was helpless. Those people hung half a horse's red yarn and a piece of silk on the cow's head as money to buy charcoal.
5. Two ancient poems/two poems on agricultural benevolence and righteousness Li Shen planted a millet in spring and harvested 10,000 seeds in autumn. There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death.
At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil. Who would have thought that our bowl of rice and grain are full of the blood and sweat of farmers? As long as a seed is sown in spring, a lot of food can be harvested in autumn.
All over the world, there are no fields that are not cultivated, and there are no fields that are not cultivated, but there are still farmers working, but they starve to death. At noon in midsummer, when the sun was shining, farmers were still working and sweat dripped into the soil.
Who would have thought that the rice in our bowl was full of the blood and sweat of farmers? .