I am Zhang Ji's neighbor and have lived in Luoyang for more than ten years. Five years ago, a man named Zhang Ji came ... "In a blink of an eye, it was another year and the Mid-Autumn Festival was full. Autumn wind blows golden leaves and spreads golden streets on the streets. I thought: What should I sell? The noise in Luoyang city in recent days: moon cake stalls and meat stalls, make me exhausted. I went all over Luoyang city to find the lowest price in the city. When I got home, I thought: It's time to go home (like Zhang Ji and Wu Jun). I went to Zhang Ji's home and said to him, "I'm leaving. Write a letter from home at once, and I'll bring it back to you as usual. "I saw Zhang Ji, who was full of ideas, but I didn't know where to say (write). I waited patiently as usual.
Five hours later, when I was about to leave, I saw Zhang Ji's eyes filled with fear. He quickly opened the letter and read it again. I know what he is afraid of, and it must be the same as in previous years, fearing that what he wants to express is incomplete and unclear.
The next day, I took my things on the road. I saw Zhang Ji staring at me all the time ... here!
B. Change the ancient poem Qiu Si into a story (200 words)
The annual autumn wind blows to Luoyang city again. Zhang Ji, a great poet in the Tang Dynasty, saw dead branches and leaves flying in the air like yellow butterflies. At this time, he thought of his loved ones, so he put down his work and wrote a letter to his family, which said, "How are your parents? Are you healthy? I'm sorry that my son didn't take the time to see you. Please don't be sad and don't miss me. I have a good time here. Please rest assured. After Zhang Ji finished writing the letter, he quickly put it in the messenger's hand and asked him to give it to the two old people. At this moment, he suddenly opened the envelope without hesitation and quickly added a few words to express his feelings for his loved ones. But he will never finish it. He is in a hurry. Therefore, this little story tells us not to be too hasty, but to be sincere in everything.
C. Change ancient poems into short stories
Change an ancient poem into a short story.
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20 18- 1 1-04
Rewrite my hometown book
In ancient times, in a small mountain village, there was a Tang Dynasty poet named He. He is very studious. His greatest wish is to be admitted to Jinshi. One day, he was admitted to Jinshi.
He Zhangzhi packed his bags and got ready to go. He took a carriage and went to other places to be an official. Every day when he sleeps, he misses his parents in his hometown.
Time flies, the sun and the moon fly. In the blink of an eye, decades passed, and He Zhangzhi went to the mirror to see if he had changed. After reading it, he thought: the accent of his hometown has not changed, but his hair is white. Now that I am old, will my family know me?
One day, he decided to return to his hometown. He resigned, packed his bags and went back to his hometown in a carriage. He Zhangzhi worked hard day and night and finally returned to his hometown. He looked at the scenery of his hometown. Rows of green hills are straight and straight, and he misses rows of little soldiers. At the foot of the mountain is a lawn, and the lawn is green. There are many flowers on the top of the lawn. The fragrance of flowers is very strong, attracting countless butterflies and bees to dance among the flowers, which is particularly beautiful. There is also a freshwater river next to the lawn. The river flows slowly. These houses are neatly arranged. He thought: the scenery at home is as beautiful as before and has never changed.
He Zhangzhi saw many children playing. He walked up to the children. The children saw a stranger and smiled and said, "Where are you from?" After hearing this, he thought: I came back too late, and people in my hometown don't know me. He was very sad.
Smile and ask the guest where he is from.
D. turn a poem into a short story of 200 words.
Early in the morning, I came to the foot of Lushan Mountain.
Seen from below, Lushan Mountain is a rolling mountain. Seen from the side, it is a steep and powerful mountain peak. Walking into the deep mountains, the faint fog fluttered gracefully from the bottom of the ravine around the ground, spreading like a fairy's fluttering scarf, and the scenery gradually blurred where the scarf passed.
Seen from the foot of the mountain, Lushan Mountain is shrouded in mist, just like a fairyland. Climb to the mountain and look down. Under your feet, the sea of clouds is boundless, just like walking through the clouds. Not long after, the clouds played a new trick, and the ethereal teenager became a strange shape. Some flowers are in bud, some are like waterfalls hanging in the air, and some others. ...
Looking at Lushan Mountain from all angles, it presents various postures.
Why can't you recognize the true face of Lushan Mountain? Because I'm even in Lushan.
Coming down from Lushan Mountain, I wrote a poem on the wall of sairinji:
Seen from the side of the ridge, it becomes a mountain peak.
The distance is different.
I don't know the true face of Lushan Mountain,
Just because I'm in this mountain.
Please adopt it if you are satisfied, and wish your parents academic progress ~
E. Rewrite ancient poems into short stories
Melancholy Qiu Si
Zhang Ji was born in poverty. When he was young, he was far from home. By the time he was twenty-five or six years old, he had experienced a wandering life in a foreign land all the year round.
On a silent night, Zhang Ji finished his dinner and sat in the small yard enjoying the bright moonlight. A full moon hangs high in the sky, adding infinite vitality to the hidden earth.
He was watching when suddenly an autumn wind blew and Zhang Ji was shivering with cold. He had to go back to his room and find an old cotton-padded jacket sewn by his mother from the closet when he left.
He looked at the cotton-padded jacket and remembered his elderly mother, so he picked up a brush and wrote on the paper: How are you, mother? It's getting cold, so you should put on more clothes to avoid catching cold. Please don't worry about me, I'm fine. How is the family harvest this year? ..... seems to have a lot to say, but I don't know where to start.
The next day, as soon as the sun climbed the hillside, Zhang Ji handed the letter to Wang San.
When Wang San was about to say goodbye to him, Zhang Ji took the letter back, opened it again and again, and added: You should live happily every day, don't be unhappy about a little thing ... After writing it, Zhang Ji gave it to Wang San, who rode away at a gallop.
Zhang Ji looked at Wang San, who was far away, and he was both happy and sad. Happily, his mother can read her letter. Sadly, I don't know when I can return to my hometown.
In "Mermaid", pearl-like tears drop on the moon-green sea, the blue sky is warm as spring, and jadeite is smoked.
The seaside girl's name is Yue Ming, and the handsome boy's name is Warm Sky.
Then a bizarre love story.
Girls' tears become pearls, while men become a wisp of smoke.
F it would be nice to change the ancient poem Qingming into a story of more than 200 words.
Today is a copy of Tomb-Sweeping Day. I strode to my mother's grave with a sacrifice in my hand. At this time, the rain is not stopping, maybe God is crying.
Along the way, I saw many pedestrians, like me, deeply grieved. Just when I was depressed and confused, I couldn't help shaking, only to find myself wet.
There happened to be a shepherd boy herding cattle in front of him. He was dressed in pink and wearing a hat, riding on the back of the cow. I quickly stepped forward and asked, "Excuse me, children, is there a restaurant in front?" "The shepherd boy cocked his head and just laughed, but his little hand pointed to the distance. I looked down my little hand and saw the apricot blossom village fluttering with wine flags.
After thanking the shepherd boy, he went to the hotel. After drinking a few glasses of wine, he became poetic and wrote Tomb-Sweeping Day: It rained a lot during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road were dying. Ask local people where to buy wine? The shepherd boy just laughed and didn't answer Xingshan Village.
Imagine the content of the ancient poem Qiu Si and rewrite it into a short story of 200-250 words.
H. rewrite ancient poems into 200-word articles! Come on!
Title Chengnan village
On this day last year, in this door,
Peach blossoms set each other off in red.
People don't know where to go,
Peach blossoms are still smiling in the spring breeze.
The story of the direct writer is a good article!
Attach his story:
In the early years of Tang Dezong, Cui Hu failed to take the Chang 'an exam. On that day in Tomb-Sweeping Day, he went to the south of the city to play alone and met a young woman, which left a deep impression on him. In the second year of Tomb-Sweeping Day, it was the season of peach blossoms and green willows. When Cui Hu saw no flowers, he went to the south of the city to find the woman. As a result, the door was closed and Cui Hu was not disappointed, so he wrote this poem on the door and left his name: Boling Cui Hu.
A few days later, Cui Hu passed through the south of the city and found the yard, but she heard crying inside. He knocked at the door and asked, only to see an old man come out. I didn't know that the old man was the woman's father until I asked. The old man told Cui Hu that his daughter was ill for a long time and died after seeing the poem written on the door. Cui Hu was frightened and begged to see him. Cui Hu saw the woman lying in bed with her eyes closed and out of breath. Cui Hu couldn't help crying and shouted, "Cui Hu is here, Cui Hu is here." Unexpectedly, the woman opened her eyes. It soon recovered. But the old man loved Cui Hu more and more, so he married his daughter. Later, in 796 AD, Cui Hu was admitted to Jinshi. This peach blossom actually made the marriage of a pair of talented people and beautiful women. Left a story for future generations.
I rewrote the vagrant song into a short essay of about 200 words.
In a shabby hut, there lived a mother and son who lived alone. My son will go to Beijing to take the exam tomorrow, and my mother braved the cold to sew and knit clothes for her son who is about to travel far away. She sat on the mat and turned on the worn-out oil lamp. In the dim light, my mother's pale hair, wrinkled face and rough hands were faintly visible. Although the mother is reluctant to part with her son's long journey, she still sews all kinds of feelings and love into this needle. She is worried about when her son will come back from this long trip; She is worried that her son will go out without being taken care of; She is worried that her son is sickly and has no money for treatment; She was worried ... thinking about it, her mother's tears slipped down and soaked the thick sweater. Although this is not silk, it is a few days' sweat, which embodies a deep maternal love!
You see, the clever and sensible son also picked up books, carefully reviewed his lessons, wanted to win fame and live a good life as his mother said. "ouch!" Mother let out a cry and the homespun clothes were stained with blood. The son said sadly, "mom, stop sewing." Let me help you go back to rest! " ""You go to rest first. You must get up early tomorrow. Go to rest first! " Mother shook her head and said, "I don't care, this minor injury is nothing!" "Well, I'll rest, mom. You should also go to bed early. Don't wear yourself out! "said the son. Mom nodded: "Hmm!"
The next day, my son got up early and found his mother asleep on the table, the sweater was still in her hand, and his son was in tears. It turned out that his mother was busy sewing clothes all night, and his son suddenly realized. He went into the room at once and took a sheet to cover his mother.
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1 1 comments
question
Xiao's three years old is very cool.
nine
Okay, okay, okay.
2018-12-0419: 20 reply to Ta.
Xiao's three years old is very cool.
eight
Okay, okay, okay.
2018-12-0419: 20 reply to Ta.
Xiao's three years old is very cool.
seven
Okay, okay, okay.
2018-12-0419: 20 reply to Ta.
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