"Mao Yan is low and small, and the grass by the stream is green. When you are drunk, your voice is charming and your hair is white. The eldest son is weeding in the bean field on the east side of the stream, and the second son is busy knitting chicken cages. I like children's hooligans best, lying in the stream and peeling lotus. " Looking through the Song Ci casually, I was intoxicated by Xin Qiji's "Qing Ping Le?" The beautiful rural life in the village house reminds me of the beautiful memories under the eaves.
The roof belongs to my hometown and my childhood.
When I was a child, in a small mountain village in my hometown, I lived in an old house with a mud wall and a tile roof. The old house has a big roof, which protects my happy childhood like an umbrella.
The annual spring news was told to me by the swallow under the eaves. When the bird's nest buzzes under the eaves for a winter, when a few silly little black heads are exposed under the eaves, and when the black tail crosses the eaves, I know that spring is coming.
When we were young, adults told us that swallows were beneficial birds. Everyone in the village loves to protect swallows and is proud that swallows nest under their own eaves. At that time, one of the things we loved to do was to search under the eaves of various houses to see if there was a bird's nest.
When I grow up, I read a book of poems and read Yan Fuyan by the Tang Dynasty poet Huang Furan: "What's the hurry? If you are interested in eaves. Blow the wind to every distance, with rain, and open it sideways. Let the group cut apricot beams and want to go every year. " And the poem "Birds fly to the eaves and clouds go out of the window" in Wu Yun's Miscellaneous Poems in the Mountains in the Southern Dynasties always reminds me of the eaves and swallows.
In the summer when I was a child, my grandmother and I enjoyed the cool under the eaves. The dazzling white sunlight shines on the mottled mud wall through the eaves, and the light and shadow are smart. My grandmother is lying in a cool chair, and I am lying next to her. She took a cattail leaf fan and shook it gently, shaking down the cool and countless childhood stories and the slowly flowing time. Hoes, shovels, iron harrows and forks quietly lean against the mud wall, recording farmers' farming years with punctuation marks. The proud rooster walks proudly under the eaves, and the modest Xiaohua Mall sleeps quietly by the wall ... Everything is so calm, just like a still life meticulous painting.
Watching and listening to the rain under the eaves is another scene. When it rains, it is a wet world outside the house, and heavy rain begins to flow along the eaves. At first, it was raindrops, ticking, one sound, two sounds ... raindrops were like the skillful hands of affectionate women, and the eaves were guqin, which gently played a wonderful piano sound; Slowly, it became a rain line, one, two … and then it became a rain curtain. At that time, I always liked to take a bucket to catch rain under the eaves. The old hen took a flock of chickens to shelter from the rain under the eaves. The old hen protects her chicks with her wide wings. The chicken cried innocently, and the old hen giggled back, with kindness in her voice.
Later, I read "Listening to the Rain" by the Tang Dynasty poet Wang Jian: "Sleeping at home at midnight, the sound of rain falls on the eaves. According to Mud Star, it was dark before, and the court flowers refused to rest. " I always think of watching and listening to the rain under the eaves when I was a child, and I feel more homesick.
When I grew up, I left my hometown and the old house where I lived. In foreign cities, there are many tall buildings without eaves, and "eaves" have become a dream buried in memory. Therefore, every time I go back to my hometown, I feel that I am looking for my dream. Back to my hometown, the eaves are still there, and my grandmother in her eighties is still sitting under the eaves. She smiled kindly at me, asked me about my work and life in the city, and said when I would bring a grandson back to show her. Many years later, I took my daughter back to my hometown. My grandmother is over 90 years old. She's still sitting under the eaves. She can still say my name, but she doesn't recognize me.
Looking back, I had a wonderful childhood and walked quietly under the eaves.
2. Good time in junior high school Under the eaves, the weather was extremely hot that summer vacation.
The cicada on the tree is silent and the leaves wither. The hot and dry weather makes people sleepy. But I am very energetic, because today is my first time to go back to my hometown, and the whole people are very excited.
After nearly an hour's drive, I finally arrived at my destination. I jumped out of the car excitedly, said hello to my grandparents in a hurry and ran into the house.
A girl in the room is clumsily cutting watermelons. She is at least half a head taller than me, with dark skin and bright eyes. When she saw me enter the room, she grinned and said, "Come on, it must be very hot. Come and eat a watermelon. "
I nodded, picked up a piece of watermelon and ate it. "Eat slowly, there are many.
I am older than you. Please call me sister. ""well, sister, you also eat. "
After listening, she smiled again and narrowed her eyes: "Good." That year, we met
3. Under the same roof, the rhetorical dressing style of the word 100 at the beginning of the composition is under the same roof.
Time flies, time flies. We are under the same roof, you are getting old, I am growing up, and we are building a home.
-inscription
Under the same roof, there are father's humor, mother's kindness and precious affection.
Dad and I
One day, I was thinking about a math problem. After thinking about it, I don't have a clue and I don't know where to start. I feel very distressed. The pen in my hand was drawn over and over again on the toilet paper, and the topic was recited over and over again in my mind. I thought of one solution after another, but I couldn't find the breakthrough of the topic at all. Just as I was about to give up this problem, my father came over, looked at it, calculated it again on the toilet paper and finally found a solution. My father worked it out quickly with a simple method and taught me this method. Dad is my wisdom toolbox.
Under the same roof, my father is not only a strong shoulder to rely on, but also a mentor and friend who can help me point out the maze.
After reading this article, I found that time is fair, no matter you are poor or rich, it will be treated equally.
There are two wonderful sentences in this article that I appreciate very much: sometimes, a short moment will become eternity, because it has left a deep footprint in people's hearts. Sometimes, the long years will turn into an instant, because the sand covers his footprints.
As the saying goes, an inch of time is worth an inch of gold, and an inch of gold cannot buy an inch of time. By reading this article, I know the importance of time. Time waits for no one, because "he keeps walking" and time is the fairest. Even if you have money, you can never buy it back. If you miss it, there will be no more.
Time is precious, we must cherish it. I will cherish the time in the days to come, grasp it carefully, and do not delay a minute, so as to achieve what the article says, "a short moment becomes eternity."
Yes, time will not send more time to the rich just because they are rich; Similarly, time will not give the poor less time just because they are poor.
5. Modern poems describing cats For a beginner, you can write modern poems according to your own actual situation.
If you know something about phonology, you might as well learn to write modern poems with rhyme. Or he can write a sonnet. He has a standard rhyming method.
Or you can read more famous books. See how they rhyme.
Any skill begins with imitation. Then you might as well imitate those famous ones
The starting point must be high. If you don't know much about phonology, write free poems.
Free verse does not mean that it can be written spontaneously, but also has inherent regularity. If you can be called a poet, you should emphasize the rhythm of music.
Rhythm refers to the regular changes in the length, height and strength of sound in a certain period of time. The rhythm of poetry, that is, the time interval caused by the sound of poetic language in the line of poetry, is also commonly known as "pause", "pace" and "beat"
Modern poetry also emphasizes the intrinsic musicality. Just don't rhyme, just pay attention to the harmony of pace.
If the novice still finds it difficult to write by hand after reading many sentences, then simply don't pay attention to anything. Write down what you want to express in your heart first, and then modify it. Try to modify sentences with a sense of rhythm and endurance without changing your thinking. Sentences should be as concise as possible, and the most important thing is to write poems in visual language. Poetry should not be dry narration or discussion, nor should it be boring words such as shouting slogans and venting personal anger. Poetry is precious in meaning.
It is precisely because new poetry is not as perfect and unified as classical poetry. So it is particularly difficult to control.
You can improvise. It doesn't rhyme at all. At first, there were two differences in new poetry. One thinks there is no need to pay attention to rhyme, the other thinks it should rhyme like classical poetry, or pay attention to the pace of western poetry.
The beginning of a literary style will inevitably appear rough. Since the May 4th Movement, modern poetry explorers have made a lot of efforts and made various attempts. Personally, if poetry lacks both musicality and rhythm, it can't be regarded as real poetry.
Will eventually be buried by history. Poetry can express things that other styles can't.
If the same content and ideas can be better expressed in other styles, it is meaningless to express them in poetry. Every combination of form and content should be unique, which is valuable literature.
Just like Shakespeare's tragedy Othello, this play was written by someone, but it was submerged, but it was once written by Shakespeare. But it became an immortal work.
Please comment ~ ~ o (∩ _ ∩) o thank you for your satisfactory answer.