"Wildfire never completely consumes them" means that no matter how ruthless wildfire burns, "grass has been burned out by wildfire" and grass can't be burned out. Yes, sacrifices and losses must be paid, and the hero is the coronation of the warrior who got out of trouble. Synthetic network
Sima Qian, a Shi Sheng, resolutely walked out of the corner for the faith in his heart, and eventually became a "poem that historians never sing, and Li Sao has no rhyme".
"The spring breeze blows high" means that the grass only needs to call for the gentle spring breeze with a gentle voice, and miraculously revives and grows sturdily when it blows. This shows that the grass has tenacious vitality, so I hope that no matter what difficulties you encounter, don't give up hope. My grandfather was classified as a rightist during the Cultural Revolution, and his life was in danger. However, with tenacious will, he got out of the predicament and is still living a healthy and happy life. composition
Wildfire never devoured them, but they grew taller in the spring breeze. The ancient poem tells me, "No matter what difficulties we encounter, we should face them bravely and try to overcome them." Perhaps this is the main reason why I like this ancient poem!
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There are many landscapes in the poem, there are many truths in the poem, and there are endless life inspirations in the poem. "Who knows every grain is hard" is my favorite poem, which has taught me a lot …
We can't waste a grain of rice Every grain of rice is planted by the farmer's uncle through cultivation, fertilization and watering, so we should cherish a grain of rice and a vegetable in this bowl.
Although I like the poem "Who knows every meal is hard" very much, there is another "quarrel" between us.
I remember it was when I was four years old. Eating and watching TV at noon one day was really enjoyable! After a while, after I finished eating, I could clearly see that there were hundreds of grains of rice left in the bowl. "Who knows that every grain of rice in the dish is hard?" Mom said, and then handed me a spoon. "Chopsticks can't be cleaned and eaten with a spoon." I sat down on the sofa, lay back, and my legs began to kick: "No, no, no" but my arms couldn't stretch my thighs. I ate it after all. Then I began to hate this poem, but with the help of my clever mother, I began to like it again.
I will never waste food again after what I have experienced. I remember that it was the second day of the lunar new year, and my aunt's family came to grandma's house for dinner. After lunch, I saw some rice dropped on the table, and there was some rice left in the bowl. I ate some rice in the bowl with chopsticks and picked up some rice on the table with my hands. Later, I found that there was still a mouthful of rice in the bowl, so I tried to use chopsticks, but this mouthful of rice was too persistent in the bowl and I refused to come out. I had to lick it out with my mouth like a puppy. After all the actions were finished, the whole family laughed. Later, my mother said, "Who knows? Every grain of Chinese food is hard. "
Poetry has taught me knowledge, poetry has taught me truth, and poetry has taught me a lot of life enlightenment.