When you say that your hometown is not your hometown, the chef sticks it on your calf. The mountains and rivers of the motherland are lovely everywhere, and they are home wherever they go-the song of Ai Qing's expedition members.
I have been to many places and this city is the youngest. It's so beautiful that it makes people fall in love at first sight. It's not a mirage, nor is it Penglai fairyland. Everything in it is condensed by blood and sweat. "。 . Ai Qing
Ask the civilized earth, ask the thawed river, ask the swallow from the south, ask the gentle willow. . Ai Qing's quarrel outside the window
A sailor said that the white waves aroused by his favorite anchor ... Ai Qing hoped.
Whose tears came back to my heart? Whose sweat fell into the river! Who is swimming around in the middle of the water guarding the hotbed of dreams? The torrent of life rises and falls. In endless days, I stick to my dream. Keeping the sunshine bright is like keeping the direction of stepping on a long journey. . . .. Ai Qing stuck to her dream.
2. Good Words and Sentences in Ai Qing's Selected Poems Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold hinders the wind in China ... Like an old woman who is too sad, she closely follows the cold fingers and pulls the skirts of pedestrians, and keeps pouring, as old as your land ... Where are you going, the China farmer who emerged from the forest, driving a carriage, wearing a fur hat and braving the heavy snow? I tell you, I am also a descendant of farmers-I can know so deeply the hardships of people living on the grassland because of your wrinkled face.
And I am not happier than you-the waves of suffering lying on the river of time have swallowed me up and rolled me up several times-wandering and imprisonment, losing the most precious days of my youth, and my life is as haggard as yours. Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China ... A small oil lamp moves slowly by the river on a snowy night, and the light is reflected on the tattered Wu Peng boat. Who is sitting with his head down? Ah, you slovenly little woman, is it your 7A64E58685E5AEB93133337376362 home-a happy and warm nest that was burned down by a ferocious enemy? Is it also like this night, without the protection of men, in the horror of death, you were teased by the enemy's bayonet? On such a cold night, countless elderly mothers are like foreigners who don't know how far the wheels will roll tomorrow. -The roads in China are rugged and muddy.
Snowflakes fall on the land of China: the cold is blocking China ... In those areas that have been eaten by bonfires, countless land cultivators have lost their livestock, and they have squeezed the fields of Wo Wo into the hopeless and dirty alleys of life; The hungry earth stretched out trembling arms to the dark sky. The pain and disaster in China is as vast and long as this snowy night! Snow falls on the land of China, and the cold is blocking China ... China, can I give you some warmth in my weak poem written at night without lights? -The poet on the northern Horqin grassland said to me, "The north is sad."
Yes, the north is sad. The desert wind blowing from the Great Wall swept away the green of life and the glory of time in the north-a dim grayish yellow, covered with a layer of sand fog that could not be uncovered; On that day, the roar that rushed to the edge brought terror, and vilen, which was madly sweeping the vast desert, was frozen by the cold wind in October; Villages, ancient cities, hillsides, river banks, decaying walls and barren graves are all shrouded in the melancholy of the soil ... Lonely pedestrians, with their hands covering their cheeks and leaning forward, are struggling to move forward step by step in the sand ... Several donkeys, animals with sad eyes and tired ears, are bearing the painful weight of the land, and their tired feet are slowly stepping on the long and lonely roads in the north ... Those rivers have long dried up. The land and people in the north are eager for the flowing spring that nourishes life! Dead trees and low houses are scattered sparsely and darkly under the gloomy sky; In the sky, there is no sun, only a large group of geese flapping their black wings, calling for their anxiety and bitterness, fleeing from this desolate area to the verdant south ... The north is sad; The Yellow River in Wan Li is surging with turbid waves, pouring disasters and misfortunes to the vast north; The wind and frost in the 1990s depicted poverty and hunger in the vast north.
And I, a traveler from the south, love this sad northern country. The sand blowing on my face and the air conditioning in my bones have never cursed me; I love this sad land, the endless desert, and it also arouses my reverence:-I saw our ancestors leading sheep and playing flutes, immersed in the dusk of this desert ... the bones of our ancestors were buried in the ancient soft loess layer we stepped on. This land was reclaimed by them, and they have been fighting against the nature that has hit them for thousands of years. They have never been ashamed of defending their homeland. After their death, they left us the land. I love this sad land. Its vast and barren land has brought us simple words and broad gestures. I believe that these words and gestures will live firmly on the earth and will never die. I love this sad land, this ancient land, which gave birth to the hardest and oldest race in the world I love.
The pond in winter was given to me.
The pond in winter is as lonely as the old man's heart-a bitter heart that has experienced the world; The pond in winter is as dry as the eyes of the old man-the shining eyes have been worn away by hard work; In winter, the pond is as barren as an old man's hair-as sparse and gray as frost grass and as gloomy as a sad old man-and an old man bows his back under a gloomy sky. -The deep rut carved on the gray loess layer crosses the vast desert. From one road to another, Are intertwined with the sadness of the people in the North, ........................................................................................................................................... Dang. I heard the sound of a huge ship rolling on a bumpy road from the side of the snow-capped mountain under the pressure of dark clouds, like the groom getting married-even though I knew that it didn't bring me festive revelry and laughter on the juggling field, it was a more cruel sight than a thousand slaughterhouses, but I still ran to it with the enthusiasm that a life could exert.
I am not weak.
3. Ai Qing's poetry selection and sentence making 1. Even if we are a candle, we should "cry the wick every night"; Even if we are just a game, we should shine once at the critical moment; Even if our bones rot after death, they will turn into phosphorus fire and burn in the wilderness. —— Ai Qing
2. Personal pain and source joy must be integrated into the pain and joy of the times. ? —— Ai Qing
3. Time goes downstream and life goes against the current. —— Ai Qing
There is no eternal night on the earth, and there is no eternal winter in the world. —— Ai Zhidaoqing
5. Style is character-Ai Qing
6. The combination of selfishness and greed will hatch many poisonous snakes. —— Ai Qing
7. Jealousy is a tumor of the mind. —— Ai Qing
4. What are the good words, sentences and paragraphs in Ai Qing's Selected Poems? 1. Some people are afraid of light, while others are full of hatred for light, because the acupuncture from light hurts their selfish eyes.
2. In the history, all tyrants, treacherous court officials in various dynasties and greedy people tried their best to imprison the light in order to steal wealth and monopolize it, because the light can awaken people.
3. Personal pain and happiness must be integrated into the pain and happiness of the times.
4. Why do I often cry? Because I love this land deeply.
There is no eternal night in the world and there is no eternal winter in the world.
6. People don't like lies, and no matter how pretentious and grandiose they are, they won't impress people. Everyone has a measure of language in his heart.
7. Even if we are candles, we should start to dry when the candles turn into ashes and tears; Even if we are just a game, we should shine once at the critical moment; Even if our bones rot after death, they will turn into phosphorus fire and burn in the wilderness.
8. Ask about civilized land, thawed rivers, swallows from the south and gentle willows.
9. I have been to many places? The ups and downs of life make people fall in love at first sight, not a mirage! Who is swimming around in the middle of the water guarding the hotbed of dreams? .
10. Say hometown is not hometown, and the kitchen god sticks it on the calf. The mountains and rivers of the motherland are lovely everywhere, because I love this land deeply.
1 1. In turbulent times, friendship is like a reed on a cloudy day.
12. In endless days, I stick to my dream. Keeping the sunshine bright is like keeping the direction of stepping on a long journey.
13. It's not Penglai Wonderland, it's a grass and a tree, and it's the foam aroused by his favorite anchor.
14. Whose tears came back to my heart? Cities are the youngest. It is so beautiful that wherever you go, you will find your hometown.
15. I also grew up eating milk from Dayan River.
Son of Dayanhe.
Dayan and I raised a family by raising me.
I'm my nanny.
I'm Dayanhe, the landlord's son and my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born
She is a child bride.
5. Why do I always have tears in my eyes? Because I love this land deeply. -Ai Qing, I love this turbulent land. Friendship is like a reed on a cloudy day, trembling in the wind and making an inaudible lament.
-Ai Qing said that his hometown is not his hometown, and the kitchen god stuck it on his calf. The mountains and rivers of the motherland are lovely everywhere, and you will find your hometown wherever you go. I have been to many places and this city is the youngest. It's so beautiful that it makes people fall in love at first sight. It's not a mirage, nor is it Penglai fairyland. Everything in it is condensed by blood and sweat. "
Ai Qing asked about civilized land, thawed rivers, swallows from the south and gentle willows.
Ai Qing's quarrel outside the window A sailor said that his favorite anchor caused a white splash ... Whose tears did Ai Qing expect to return to his heart? Whose sweat fell into the river! Who is swimming around in the middle of the water guarding the hotbed of dreams? The torrent of life rises and falls. In endless days, I stick to my dream.
Keeping the sunshine bright is like keeping the direction of stepping on a long journey.
.. Ai Qing stuck to her dream.
6. The beautiful sentences and appreciation in Ai Qing's Selected Poems 1, the reef waves after waves, and each wave is smashed under its feet ... its face and body are like knives, but it still stands there smiling and looks at the ocean ... 2. I love this land. If I were a bird, I would also sing with a hoarse throat: this land hit by the storm, this river of sadness and indignation that will surge on us forever, this angry wind that blows endlessly, and the incomparably gentle dawn from the forest ...-Then I died, and even my feathers rotted in the ground.
Why do I often cry? Because I love this land deeply ... 3. Facing the morning sun, I woke up from my sleep and was glad to see your brilliance. Although I was sleepy last night, I was still troubled by countless nightmares. Your fresh, gentle and clean luster shines on the window that I haven't opened for a long time. The window paper is painted pale yellow like pollen and embedded in a light blue neat grid. E68A84E8a2ade79Fa5E98193313331365438, my heart is full of gratitude.
So, I was surprised to see you: so real, no doubt, you stood on the opposite top of the mountain, and you smiled so clearly. I try to open my eyes to see you, eager to capture your image, how intense, how trance, how solemn! Your light stung my pupils.
Sun, your immortal philosopher, you have brought happiness to the world. Even if you are the most unfortunate person, you can see your inner comfort. You are the forger of time and the gilder of a better life; You cast the days into countless golden wheels and fly in the ancient wasteland ... Without you, the sun, all life would crawl in the dark, and even with wings, it could only fly in the eternal night like a bat.
I love you as people love their mothers. You feed my thoughts and thoughts with light and heat-let me live passionately and suffer for my ideals until my life is taken away by death. After a long and lonely winter, today, I want to climb to the top of the mountain, take off my clothes and bathe my soul with your brilliance ... 4. Notice of dawn. Pray for my poets, please get up and tell them to give the sun morning. I will wake up from my sleep and be glad to see your brilliance. Although I was sleepy last night, I was still troubled by countless nightmares.
Your fresh, gentle, clear light shines on my window that has not been opened for a long time. The window paper is painted pale yellow like pollen and embedded in a light blue neat grid. My heart is full of gratitude. I get out of bed, open the window door that has been closed for a winter, and let you spread a bright tablecloth made of all gold on my table by the window. So, I was surprised to see you: so real, no doubt, you stood on the opposite top of the mountain, and you smiled so clearly.
I try to open my eyes to see you, eager to capture your image, how intense, how trance, how solemn! Your light stung my pupils. Sun, your immortal philosopher, you have brought happiness to the world. Even if you are the most unfortunate person, you can see your inner comfort.
You are the forger of time and the gilder of a better life; You cast the days into countless golden wheels and fly in the ancient wasteland ... Without you, the sun, all life would crawl in the dark, and even with wings, it could only fly in the eternal night like a bat. I love you as people love their mothers. You feed my thoughts and thoughts with light and heat-let me live passionately and suffer for my ideals until my life is taken away by death.
After a long and lonely winter, today, I want to go to the top of the mountain, take off my clothes and be naked. Bathe my soul with your light ... and say that what they are waiting for is coming. Guided by the last star, I crossed the dew. I come from the east, from the turbulent sea. I will bring light to the world and warmth to mankind. Please take my message to inform those people whose eyes are burning with desire, and to invite them to distant cities and villages immersed in suffering. Welcome my pioneer of the day, the messenger of light opens all the windows and welcomes all the doors. Please honk your horn to welcome you. Please blow the horn to welcome. Please ask the cleaner to clean the street. Please drive the truck to transport the garbage. Let the workers stride in the street. Line up the cars across the square. Please wake up these villages from the wet fog. To welcome me, please open their fences and ask the women in the village to open their chickens. Please ask the farmers to pick up the livestock. Cattle are brought out of the shed. Tell them with your warm mouth that I am from the other side of the mountain. Come from the other side of the forest and ask them to clean up those threshing floors and those permanently dirty patios. Please open the window covered with colored paper. Please open the door with Spring Festival couplets. Please wake up the careful woman and the snoring man. Please invite young lovers to get up with those sleepy girls. Please wake up the sleepy mother and the baby beside him. Please wake everyone up, even sick pregnant women and elderly people. People in bed, even the wounded in the just war and the refugees displaced by the collapse of their hometown, please wake up all the unfortunate people, and I will give them comfort together, please wake up all the people and workers who love life. Technicians and painters invite singers to sing to welcome the sound of grass and dew, dancers to dance to welcome their dressing gowns covered with white fog, and those healthy and beautiful people wake up and say, I'll knock on their windows, and invite poets who are loyal to time to bring comfort to mankind and ask them to prepare for it. Please be ready to welcome everyone. When the rooster crows for the last time, I will come over and let them gaze at the horizon with pious eyes. I will give the kindest light to all who expect me. When the night is about to pass, please tell them that what they are waiting for is coming.