The following is an adaptation of a dream (776 words). I sat in the pavilion and looked at all kinds of lotus flowers. I just feel deeply attracted by the lotus in front of me-some shy, pink buds are fresh and lovely. Some just bloomed, and several butterflies couldn't wait to get in. The oval stamens inside are about an inch long.
The blooming lotus is as white, tender, sweet, pure and lovely as a baby's smiling face. What about the bustling lotus before? Although the petals have withered, the lotus still stands in the lotus leaf, which is covered with emerald-like green particles, which are the seeds of new life.
From a distance, the lotus is like a big family, with generations living under one roof. These scenes constitute a poetic "summer lotus map".
Looking at this wonderful scene, I was deeply intoxicated with it, as if I had become a lotus flower, dancing under the breeze. I sat in the pavilion, enjoying the beautiful scenery that only exists between heaven and earth, while savoring the aging of the Millennium.
I didn't think I would be so drunk. After only a few drinks, I was so drunk that I couldn't sit still. I just feel like I'm on cloud nine, as if I'm in a fairyland on earth. I feel like a fairy again! Unconsciously, it was getting dark, and it was not until my interest was almost exhausted by the passage of time that I remembered it was time to go home.
I waddled into the boat. But at this point, I am still a little drunk, and I have given the route home; It's everywhere.
I have to move forward with vague memories. However, the paddler refused to obey orders. You let it shake to the north, but it turns against you and shakes the paddle to the south. You asked it to roll the paddle to the south, but it rolled to the north.
The boat stumbled as if it were a toddler. Unexpectedly, I actually rocked the boat to the depths of the lotus root.
At this point, I broke out in a cold sweat and suddenly woke up. I saw myself in the depths of the lotus, surrounded by it. I suddenly panicked and didn't know what to do.
I tried my best to row the boat, but the lotus was taller than me, and it didn't help to row. But the sound of my paddle alarmed a group of waterfowl among the lotus leaves, and they flew into the sky.
I collapsed in the cabin like a deflated ball. What should I do in this uninhabited environment? Finally, I had to spend a long night in the cabin. That night is deeply imprinted on my mind.
2. The expansion of ancient poetry to 600 words generally requires a lot of words, which is more troublesome and difficult to find. If you don't give a reward, few people will give it to you, which is simply lack of sincerity.
The following is an adaptation of a dream sequence (776 words)
I sat in the pavilion and looked at all kinds of lotus flowers. I just feel deeply attracted by the lotus in front of me-a little shy, with fresh and lovely pink buds. Some just bloomed, and several butterflies couldn't wait to get in. The oval stamens inside are about an inch long. The blooming lotus is as white, tender, sweet, pure and lovely as a baby's smiling face. What about the bustling lotus before? Although the petals have withered, the lotus still stands in the lotus leaf, which is covered with emerald-like green particles, which are the seeds of new life. From a distance, the lotus is like a big family, with generations living under one roof. These scenes constitute a poetic "summer lotus map".
Looking at this wonderful scene, I was deeply intoxicated with it, as if I had become a lotus flower, dancing under the breeze. I sat in the pavilion, enjoying the beautiful scenery that only exists between heaven and earth, while savoring the aging of the Millennium. I didn't think I would be so drunk. After only a few drinks, I was so drunk that I couldn't sit still. I just feel like I'm on cloud nine, as if I'm in a fairyland on earth. I feel like a fairy again!
Unconsciously, it was getting dark, and it was not until my interest was almost exhausted by the passage of time that I remembered it was time to go home. I waddled into the boat. But at this point, I am still a little drunk, and I have given the route home; It's everywhere. I have to move forward with vague memories. However, the paddler refused to obey orders. You let it shake to the north, but it turns against you and shakes the paddle to the south. You asked it to roll the paddle to the south, but it rolled to the north. The boat stumbled as if it were a toddler. Unexpectedly, I actually rocked the boat to the depths of the lotus root.
At this point, I broke out in a cold sweat and suddenly woke up. I saw myself in the depths of the lotus, surrounded by it. I suddenly panicked and didn't know what to do. I tried my best to row the boat, but the lotus was taller than me, and it didn't help to row. But the sound of my paddle alarmed a group of waterfowl among the lotus leaves, and they flew into the sky.
I collapsed in the cabin like a deflated ball. What should I do in this uninhabited environment? Finally, I had to spend a long night in the cabin.
That night was deeply imprinted on my mind!
This ancient poem was rewritten into a 600-word composition. A group of troops marched slowly on the Gobi desert in the frontier fortress. The armored general suddenly stopped the red mount, and the horse looked up and neighed, and the neighing echoed in the narrow valley.
They looked up and their tired eyes suddenly flashed with brilliance. A rare smile appeared on the general's bronzed face, and his trembling muscles seemed to shake off the yellow sand.
"Rest on the spot!" As soon as the general raised his whip, the powerful voice shook the rubble on both sides of the mountain.
The yellow sunset dyed the general's gray beard, and also sprinkled a mysterious color on the whole team, as if a group of heavenly soldiers would suddenly descend on the edge of this desert.
Standing on the northwest frontier of autumn parcels, heaven and earth seem to meet here. The frontier fortress seems particularly empty, lonely and deep, without the suspicion of floating clouds, only desolate and opaque maturity. The geese flying south occasionally fly across the sky and leave in a hurry to cooperate with the ancient "honor guard", but they don't miss the frontier fortress scene specially prepared for them.
This desolate northwest frontier fortress!
The autumn wind is bigger, carrying yellow sand, whipping shrunken shrubs on the roadside like a whip, whipping cold and hard stones and tired teams. The horse can't help this relentless beating, snorting and neighing. The foot soldiers were very close and buried their heads very low. Time seems to have solidified at this time.
The distant sound of vigorous retreat blew the horn, and there came the screams of war horses, the collision of armored weapons, the sound of autumn wind tearing the standard and the howling sound of crazy friction of sand ... All kinds of voices were intertwined and echoed over this desert, as if only they were the owners of this land.
The wind roared, and the rolling yellow sand filled the mountains, covering up the warm yellow of the sunset, leaving a hasty pallor.
Over the camp, the rising smoke, bared its teeth, gradually swallowed up the pallor of the west. The surrounding mountains become more and more ferocious at night. Only the lonely city with closed gates, the people in the lonely city, fell asleep with the wind of the frontier fortress.
Dream? Homesick people are afraid of falling asleep.
I am so tired when marching and fighting during the day that I don't feel homesick, but when the moon is in the middle, I am in my hometown. Looking at the moon, my wife's shallow smile reflected in the middle of the month; Looking at the full moon, the mother who is over 60 years old and mending clothes is reflected in the middle of the month; Looking at the moon, the children's sweet shouts came from the moon ... but the soldiers were helpless, and their cheeks were covered with cold tears: although they were ordered to guard the border for many years, their achievements in resisting the enemy were not completed, and it was difficult to return home and could not return home!
The general poured a pot of strong liquor alone, in order to relieve the fatigue of fighting during the day and to drive away the homesickness that hit his heart. The faint light flashed in the lampshade, lengthening and shortening the general's tired figure. The general's hand moved on the battle map, thinking about the battle plan over and over again. His eyes stopped at that point on the map surrounded by mountains, and he was quietly lost in thought. Watching, watching, he seemed to see himself leading his foot soldiers to kill the enemy, invincible, and the enemy's casualties were everywhere. The foot soldiers surrounded him: "Victory! Victory! " Cheer and jump for joy. He walked out of the team and solemnly carved a big word "Song" on a huge stone. ...
The general's face is red. I don't know if it's because of the wine just now, or because he is still immersed in the picture of stone carving. The white hair on the head was reflected whiter by the red face.
Suddenly, a melancholy and desolate Qiangdi brought the general back to reality. It seems to be crying, complaining, and angry. It floats like a ghost in the whole moonlit night, once again evoking the gentlest and deepest emotion in the general's heart-infinite homesickness.
In a flash, the autumn frost outside the account climbed up the general's forehead again.
That night, the officers and men guarding the border worked hard to serve the country and fight for men's homesickness.
(Fisherman's Pride)
4. Every ancient poem is rewritten in 600 words, an autumn night in a deep mountain.
The autumn wind is blowing and the setting sun is fading away. Smell the air that has just rained in the mountains. It is fresh. Wandering in this quiet mountain forest. The washed moonlight is sprinkled among the dense pine forests, and the bright moon among the pine forests is more beautiful than a painting. And the sound of running water in Ding Dong, thin, a clear spring flows through the stone stream. Mountain breeze, insects singing. There was a burst of laughter from the depths of the bamboo forest. A group of girls who have finished washing clothes go back together. Wearing a headscarf and holding a wooden basin. Passing by. I drifted off again and vaguely disappeared. The lotus leaf is swaying from side to side, and I don't know whether it is raindrops or splashing water drops dancing. Fishing boats going down the river don't know what the harvest is. How happy they are with their loud songs. The fragrance of the lotus also floated up and stopped. Look up at the bright moon ... in the mountains. In the picture. The United States and China.
It is already dark, but there is a bright moon in the sky; The flowers have withered, but there are pine trees covered. The mountain spring is clear and flows through the rocks, like a pure white practice, shining in the moonlight. After an autumn rain, the autumn mountain is fresh and pleasant. Near dusk, the sun sets, the moon rises, the pine forest is quiet, the stream is clear, and there are waves of laughter in the bamboo forest. It was some innocent girls who washed their clothes and came back with a smile. The graceful lotus leaves spread out to both sides one after another, overturning countless pearl-like crystal drops. It's a fishing boat going down the river, which cuts the tranquility of the moonlight in the lotus pond. Such a beautiful autumn scenery and elegant taste can make the prince and grandson linger and get carried away.
5. A 600-word composition, with poems, is a poem every day (1). Every poem comfortably teaches us a little philosophy, and the little things in life are as memorable as poems.
Let people applaud. One day, I will blow the long wind, break through the huge waves, raise the muddy sails and cross the deep sea. The rain always washes the earth suddenly, violently and defenseless.
Life is like waves, beating waves, extraordinary but unprepared. Unexpected things always happen, but we can face them bravely.
We walk forward with hope in the stormy night and walk out of our own life in the overgrown place. Every day, we are writing youthful poems with an optimistic attitude and firm belief.
Worry about the world first, and enjoy it later. Today, there are countless people with lofty ideals. That patriotic heart is always displayed incisively and vividly in times of national crisis.
However, if one party is in trouble, all parties will help. At the moment when the earth shook, every inch of space was filled with panic and confusion, but at that moment, thousands of people were fighting against the disaster! Among them, there are teachers, doctors and enterprise employees; Among them, there are high-level leaders and grassroots workers; Among them, some have gray temples, some are in full bloom ... and they have made the same decision at the same time-to help more people escape! In the darkness, under the ruins and in tents, the victims care about and help each other.
In a special period, the victim's love transcends age, occupation, social status and daily grievances. In the face of this great kindness, we are both excited and ashamed. We can only give our change to the people in the disaster area, and we will reproduce a new patriotic poem with practical actions.
In sunny days, China keeps our friendship, and heaven is still our neighbor. We can meet too many friends, so we will be comfortable and free with our good friends. We can do whatever we want and say whatever we want. Although there will be a little "interlude", we will not take each other to heart. Many years later, as in those years, even after a long separation, we still feel that we are in the body, and we will think of her when you are in the most difficult time. You will know that she will always stand with you ... A true good friend is someone who is willing to tell you what she has done disgracefully, someone who wants to call you at any time, someone who wants to cry in front of you without wearing a mask, someone who sleeps with you all night in winter, and someone who sometimes talks to you little but cares about each other. A good friend is a sad person, and I will cry and be happy with you. When we were with friends, we wrote poems of friendship with our sincerity.
Every day is a poem, a poem that makes progress despite difficulties, a poem that cares about the country and the people, and a poem of pure friendship. We are repeating a poetic life every day, and we are tirelessly interpreting a poetic life every day.
The commentary praised the truth, goodness and beauty in life from three aspects: candidates facing up to difficulties, supporting the people in the disaster area with the vast number of Chinese sons and daughters, and treating friends sincerely, and expressed a positive theme. Using ancient poetry as the subtitle of the article, not only the hierarchical structure is very clear, but also gives people a feeling of profound cultural heritage.
The sea makes me intoxicated in the boundless universe, and everything goes on and on. Nature shows people the charm of flowers, the standing trees, the towering mountains and the leisurely water ... and I love the deep blue sea alone, which brings me surprise, sadness, joy and pain ... I like the tranquility of the sea. As night falls, I stand alone at the bow of the boat, staring at the sea under the bright moon, so calm and peaceful, looking at the distant sea, and the feeling of "a long smoke is empty, the bright moon is thousands of miles away, and the shadows are heavy" swings in my chest.
With open arms, in this quiet world, "relaxed and happy" seems to have everything in this world. The sea makes my heart open, my temperament flamboyant, and the vastness is unparalleled, which makes me deeply embedded in this whole. Time seems to stand still, and everything is wonderful.
I like the surging of the sea. When I studied Yan Lu's Listen to the Tide, my heart also aroused the desire to listen to the Tide.
I was fascinated by the vivid description of the loud sound of the sea hitting the rocks. When I stood by and watched the sea, listening to it like a gallop of thousands of horses, and like the sound of the tide played by various musical instruments, my joy was beyond words.
At that time, although I didn't have the feeling of everything in the world, I still loved and loved the ocean, which made me feel that in my life, I should also arouse such a lofty sentiment to face everything and challenges. I like the power of the sea.
"A hundred rivers, tolerance is great." The sea has no choice but to trickle, so it becomes bigger.
Everything in the sea comes from her "that". Her vastness, her depth, her infinity and her long history come from her nature.
From her temperament, I found love; From her words, I found profound; From her voice, I found kindness; From her, I found perseverance. In her soul, I washed my heart; In her kindness, I learned to be tolerant; In her profundity, I learned to be strong ... "The trip to the sun and the moon is unexpected; Xinghan is brilliant, if it is unexpected. "
The sea is vast and beautiful. On the sea, although I am just "a sandpiper in the vast world!" I still love her, I love her to swallow the sun and the moon; Because I firmly believe that I have tempered myself in the sea, appreciated the temperament of the sea, and I also have the ability to "swallow the sun and the moon".
This makes my heart beat, and I am intoxicated in the sea.
6. Autumn when I like to write poems with ancient poems; The 600-word ancient poems are full of attractive spring scenery, with love flowers like fans and willow smoke in array. "Bathed in spring, stepping in the footsteps of spring, with deep nature and hope, I came to see spring again.
Full of green in spring. "The spring breeze is green in Jiang Nanan. When will the bright moon shine on me?" With the harmonious spring breeze, everything has recovered its former vitality. "The sky is raining, the autumn is crisp, but the grass is not nearby." The grass comes out of the ground, but it is faint, just like the hair on a newborn baby, hazy and beautiful; "I don't know who cut the thin leaves. The spring breeze in February is like scissors." The willows sprouted and the dense forest turned green.
"The fragrant tree has no flowers, and the spring birds crow all the way." Spring is so beautiful, so natural and so harmonious. "The shade of spring hangs green grass, and there are flowers and trees." It is unadorned green, pure green with natural decoration, which touches people's hearts and infiltrates people's thoughts.
Spring is hazy. "Apricot flowers are wet, and the wind blows cold." The arrival of spring brings a continuous drizzle. He connected spring with the earth and the world with the hazy sky like a crystal silver line. "Smoke and water are sold at the beginning, and the east wind blows willows." The spring rain is hazy, not as deep as the dark clouds before the storm, not as confused as the fog.
Spring is lively. "Fish comes out in the drizzle, and Yan is inclined in the breeze." In the bright spring, the fish jumped out of the pond, and the swallows glided across the sky with the breeze. "The grass tree knows that spring will come back soon, and all kinds of red and purple flowers are vying for grass." Spring is a kaleidoscope, a vibrant scene. The vitality of spring is so full of vitality, which is manifested in everything. The grass tried to wear its body out of the soil. Show their green posture. "The old tree has flowers, but no ugly branches." Big trees sprout new buds, grow strong bodies and expose dense green leaves. Small fish scrambled to jump out of the water and breathe the spring air. What beautiful and harmonious colored paintings!
"Spring is annoying, and a few flowers fall all over the ground." The drooping begonia on the pond has blossomed pink, a bunch, a roll and a branch, like a crimson cloud full of trees. It is light and lovely, so beautiful that people can't help but hold their breath to see it. The wind passed without a trace, but it blew off many petals, which fell with the wind and gently whirled into the blue waves.
The air in spring is beautiful. Although it seems inappropriate, I can't think of any words to describe it. This is the so-called "only knowing and not saying".
Flowers in spring forest are more charming, and birds in spring are more sad.
Spring is green, spring is hazy, and spring is full of vigor and vitality. Her green is bright, hazy and beautiful, and her vitality shows some vitality. What a beautiful spring!
It's spring, hazy and bright.
It's spring and it's refreshing.
It's spring, vaguely full of hope.
7. Write a story between me and ancient poetry. Listen to the poet's voice of 600 words. "The river of no return, the waves are exhausted, and the romantic figures of the ages." In the long river of history, the golden light of ancient poetry shines. In the long river of history, how many cultural springs have gathered. In the clear spring of culture, poets have written poems with their own talents, some of which are like a mirror, reflecting the aura of history; Some are like streams in spring, watering the flowers of the soul; Some of them, like the water of a big river, present magnificent waves. He resigned from the county magistrate for five buckets of rice, "regardless of poverty and wealth", retired to the countryside and plowed in the wilderness. He bowed his head to cultivate chrysanthemums, raised his head to pick chrysanthemums to brew poetry and wine, and sang wine songs, leisurely and thousands of words. The true meaning of this is also. No wonder the world envies the May 6th and can spend that indifferent time. He, "according to an unchanging habit in my life, the five mountains", has experienced the Yellow River water that goes straight into the sea and never returns, and will also soar like a Dapeng bird in the Wan Li. When he is lonely, he regards the moon as a friend. Drinking with the moon alone is to bring me my shadow and let the three of us be together. When he misses his friend, he is "I will think of you in the clouds, so I think of me in the sunset". Li Bai, who traveled all over the country and on both sides of the Yellow River, experienced serious setbacks in his career. But he didn't give up his pursuit because of it. His unrestrained personality, busy life and galloping life are as heroic as the rivers and flowing water he wrote, "Three thousands of feet". She cut the plum blossom in a slow voice ... slightly sad, "sad and miserable" Li Qingzhao, who suffered from war and family destruction, is in the body. Looking back at the long river of history, the voices of ancient poets and poets echoed in my ears. "Today people don't know Gu Yue, but this month it was like the ancients." Although they didn't live in the same era as them, they left us precious spiritual food, which will be inexhaustible in our life. Su Shi, "When is the bright moon? Ask for wine from the sky ... I hope people will live for a long time and have a good scenery thousands of miles away. "But Li Yu's" Spring Flowers and Autumn Moon "won't. Ah, the ancient poetry is really beautiful, "like a river flowing eastward." Ancient poetry is like running water, and * * * sighs that life is like this. Listen, that mumbling voice is permanent, forever.
The 8.600-word composition with poems should be prose 1. My favorite picturesque scenery, Zhou Jiaqi, the waves are rolling and flowing away with illusory turbidity, and the light mist covers the ugly and evil. Only in the long river of time that passes in a hurry can the essence of life be precipitated. Recalling the immortal masterpiece created by a poet on the land of China hundreds of years ago, poetry has inspired the dreams of generations. In the most sacred poem, the afterglow of the sunset is mixed and red fills the sky. The sky is clear as a pool of autumn water, and the boundless desert is lonely and magnificent. The afterglow of the sunset stung people's eyes, but my heart is eternal. Walking and watching, I stepped on the vigorous back of the desert and listened to her pulse. Occasionally, a wisp of smoke comes out of the kitchen and goes straight to the misty night. Before dusk, there is a morning star. Desert! Lonely smoke, long river and sunset always give people a sense of desolation, sadness and loneliness without lacking calmness, boldness and grandeur. "Picking chrysanthemums under the east fence, you can see Nanshan leisurely." Surrounded by mountains and waters, the business in front of the house is full. I don't know what season or age it is, but I know it is unparalleled leisure. Everything is thriving and enduring. There is a faint poetry. Looking from a distance, there is no lack of beautiful scenery. A mountain suddenly appeared in front of me, with a faint scenery wrapped in a faint mood, and a faint scenery wrapped in a faint yearning and poetry. Chrysanthemum, Dongli and Nanshan always give people a sweet and faint feeling, comfortable and poetic. "Old vines are faint crows, small bridges are flowing, and the old roads are thin." The season is probably autumn! On the bridge, only the poet wanders alone and doesn't know where to go. As cold as the autumn wind, it was frostbitten and everything withered, including vines and trees. The afterglow of the sunset caresses everything, as white as a stream. Occasionally, a few birdsongs sting my heart. Whose hometown is that? Smoking peacefully, the road is still that way. Now, with the thin horse, where will it go? I dare to ask where the faint sadness, sadness and confusion come from! Oh, I like the beautiful scenery of poetry. Comments: Life is like a poem, plain and graceful, but there is always a scenery that we can never get tired of seeing. Poets interpret life with poems, while authors interpret mood with the scenery in poems. The author reproduces the scenery and scenes in the poem with prose, giving people a more fulfilling feeling. Mountains and rivers exude the breath of humanity. "The flat forest is misty, and the cold mountain area is pitiful." Invisible smoke has become a visible and tangible barrier, and the word "weaving" has turned a fickle and light lethargy into a dignified and stagnant airtight net, which makes people feel suffocating despair and loneliness. The lush mountains in the distance exude a chill, and the cold green makes people feel isolated and cold. They are "sad" guests on the lonely building. "Worry" is a common emotion, thinking about leaving is a kind of worry, thinking about the broken mountains and rivers is a kind of worry, thinking about the bumpy career, and the world is also a kind of worry. Only those who are shrouded in "troubles" can read such scenery from nature. Lonely, lonely thought: "an old man is fishing by the cold river-snow." Looking around the world, everything and a scene are filled with sad breath, which constitutes the sad beauty in poetry: "On a frosty night, Jiang Feng catches fire and sleeps. "This is the scenery that can produce the most * * * sound when the wanderer is physically and mentally exhausted. It is the inner picture when the lonely wanderer walks off the passenger ship in the middle of the night: there is no light (the moon sets), there is sorrow (crows) and there is sorrow. Everything is swallowed up by "troubles"-wandering troubles. Wandering is a kind of spiritual wandering. When the spirit can't be pinned, "the night is lonely, and the wild is black." Autumn is easy to be sad, but long waves are hard to chase. "-Li Bai medicine; Once the spirit is liberated, "the scenery is beautiful when you come late, and you will find flowers when it is sunny." The thin clouds are all in the air, and the rainbow looks oblique. "-Li Bai medicine. When the spirit is vague, the body is in a daze, and the journey of life is at a loss, the mind will send out a bloody "worry" thought: "The old vine is faint, the bridge is flowing, the old road is thin, the sun is setting, and the heartbroken person is heartbroken. "The vine is a dry vine, and there is no life. The tree is a thousand-year-old tree, and the rustling west wind is blowing it to the end of life. Crows are dim crows and have lost their vitality. Tao is a desolate ancient road. I don't know where it leads. The horse is too weak to carry any more loads. Everything suddenly lost its direction and hope here. Where is life going? This is an unforgettable sad picture. It is withered, old, weak, ancient and thin, which makes people sad and tearful. In the deepest part of the soul, there are warm bridges, running water and people's shadows, and it is a harbor of spirit and body. When I am worried about generate, two scrolls are displayed at the same time, and sadness is the main theme. " The setting sun is far away, the weather is cold and the house is poor. Chai Men smells dogs barking, and returns to people in the snowy night. "(Liu Changqing, the owner of Furong Mountain in every snow) is also a picture scroll, which is also the warmth in sadness. The wind was biting, and the hut in the snow was cold and lifeless, but finally there was a place to shelter from the wind and snow. How lucky and warm it is to be in the snow at night. Liu Yong recorded the wandering scenery more clearly, and he had a sense of wandering. He thinks about things when he sees things: "The rain is as early as dusk, and the wind is still sailing at night. The island is close to it, with thin smoke and weak reeds. How many fishermen are there? " Du Fu painted a beautiful picture: "Two orioles singing green willows, a row of egrets flying in the sky, Xiling with snow windows, and Wu Dong Wan Li boat moored at the door. "People's sense of belonging is full of vitality. Whether they have experienced thousands of years of cold and snow or the hardships of sailing thousands of miles, they can rest in peace here. The house in the quatrain is what Du Fu longed for: "There are thousands of spacious buildings, and the poor in the world are happy. " .