The leaves are yellow and dancing in the breeze. When the fruit was ripe, the farmer's uncle smiled.
Luoyang city at this time is still as prosperous as before. The streets are crowded with people: the rich are comfortably sitting in sedan chairs and carriages, the poor are carrying big baskets and small baskets to the market, the scholars are rushing into the palace to catch the exam, and the soldiers are ready to go out.
In a humble hut, Zhang Ji, a great poet in the Tang Dynasty, lay by the window, thinking of his hometown thousands of miles away. He felt very melancholy at the thought of his gentle wife and crying son.
At this moment, only writing letters can express my deep homesickness. So Zhang Ji wrote: lovely wife: hello! I am your husband.
Are the children at home obedient? Did you go to a private school to study? Has this family had a bumper harvest this year? Is everyone happy? Greetings! Your husband: Zhang Ji wrote this letter in 65438 10+March 794. Zhang Ji put on his coat, folded the letter carefully, put it in his pocket and took it out. In the busy street, Zhang Ji pushed around and finally came to the gate.
He paced anxiously, waiting for the messenger to arrive. A white horse appeared on the marble road.
A man in plain clothes rode on a horse and ran towards the city gate. "It's a messenger!" Zhang Ji shouted excitedly, "Come on, someone wants to send a letter!" " The shouts were earth-shattering, and the guards dozing off on the rostrum were awakened.
The horses in the stable were frightened and shouted wildly, but the shepherd tried his best to calm them down. The messenger came to Zhang Ji with a white horse.
Zhang Ji carefully took out the letter and said, "This is my letter from home. Please send it as soon as possible. Hey, save it! " The messenger solemnly took the letter and put it in his pocket.
The messenger pulled out his whip and was about to drive the horse away when Zhang Ji stopped him. "Modify it for me again!" So he took out his pen and added another sentence to the letter: I wish the whole family good health and all the best. This just gave the letter to the messenger.
Whip on the horse, the horse let out a scream and ran towards his hometown. Looking at the back of the messenger, Zhang Ji was filled with emotion.
So he took out a piece of paper and began to write an ancient poem "Qiu Si": Seeing the autumn wind in Luoyang, he wanted the writer to write a book. When the letter is written, I am worried that I have not finished what I want to say; When the messenger started, he opened the envelope and gave it to him.
Paper has been wet with tears.
2. Qiu Si's 350-word composition this year is another long autumn.
Every year, I like to watch the growth, maturity and decline of each season, feel beautiful and appreciate nature.
Once, my thoughts wandered in various seasons. I like spring, summer, autumn and winter. Now I find that what I like is such a feeling. Any kind of feeling.
This year's fallen leaves are still floating down, and the leaves are dancing butterflies.
In this quiet autumn, the silent wind blows and silently invades every molecule and atom in the air.
The autumn wind is ethereal and cool, still emitting intoxicating fragrance, which is the breath of autumn. She is carrying a fallen leaf and people's thoughts of towards the distant.
This may be Qiu's wish.
In that elegant and poetic autumn, fallen leaves, like a swirling vortex, set off waves of storms.
At this touching moment, I sigh, sighing that autumn is as light as clouds, as gentle as jade, as indifferent as water.
The intermittent rain falls on the edge of the phoenix tree, which is cool. Qiu Die loves lingering fragrance, and Ficus pumila is as drunk as a red maple leaf.
This is the realm of autumn and nature. Clear and cool autumn rain, cool and elegant autumn wind, bright autumn moon, light and delicate autumn leaves. Every trace, every work, is entrusted with thoughts.
Autumn in the north is cold and bold, but it makes me taste tenderness and beauty. I never doubt that it is like a person with dual personality, unique and strange.
It's also a matter of water and soil for one person.
This autumn, the sky is high, the spirit is deep, the wind is clear and the clouds are light, and the moon stars are rare.
Blue sky, yellow leaves, autumn colors, cold smoke, green waves.
Perhaps, when everything is taken away, there is only one charm left, that is, the autumn I love, the empty autumn, and the unique autumn.
3. Rewrite Qiu Si's ancient poems into a short essay, about 350 words of Qiu Si.
Homesickness is a kind of homesickness and dependence on hometown; It is my yearning for my hometown and my belief in my family. This is a kind of.
Zhang Ji, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, lived in Luoyang for a long time and lacked communication with his family, so this touching scene came into being.
Autumn is coming, autumn is crisp and it is the harvest season. The old man in autumn dusted off the dead leaves in autumn, and the children in autumn leaves danced in the air and landed at their mother's feet. Zhang Ji is full of thoughts. He always feels that he has forgotten something important. He had a brainwave. It was a letter from home! So I opened the stationery in a hurry and wrote a book.
A few hours later, a letter from home appeared in front of him, with deep thoughts for his family between the lines. He was worried that his hometown was far away from Luoyang and there was no messenger, so he paced back and forth in anguish. At this time, there was the sound of hooves in the distance. Zhang Ji stopped to stare and was ecstatic. A passer-by rode a tall horse and it was dusty. Zhang Ji hurried forward to ask pedestrians where they were going. Pedestrians said in a hurry that they were going to Zhang Ji's hometown. Zhang Ji quickly asked passers-by to deliver the letter for him and asked the vendor for an envelope. After taking out the letter from home, he took some rice grains and glued the envelope. Just when everything was ready to give this letter to passers-by, he saw Yu Pei burst into tears. He was still wearing a letter from his father before he left. Regardless of the urging of passers-by, he took out his writing paper and added a few words of concern and advice to his father's body. The pedestrian said, "It's been half an hour, and you haven't written it yet? I'm leaving! " Zhang Ji quickly sealed the envelope and handed it to pedestrians.
Looking at the back of pedestrians, Zhang Ji had mixed feelings and wrote a literary masterpiece, Qiu Si.
4. Change the ancient poem Qiu Si into a composition of more than 400 words: Autumn wind and autumn rain are villains.
The poet Zhang Ji left his hometown and came to Luoyang City.
Time flies, the Mid-Autumn Festival is coming in a blink of an eye, the leaves are yellow and all fall down. Luoyang, the cold wind bursts, making people feel that the world is extremely bleak, and Zhang Ji can't help but think a lot. He misses his hometown and those people. ...
Zhang Ji thought about visiting relatives and friends in person and visiting his parents in his hometown. Unfortunately, he couldn't help it, because he met a fellow villager who was about to return home. In the depressed season, he happened to meet a fellow villager who was about to return home, and decided to write a letter to entrust the fellow villager to give it to his parents as a sign of filial piety. There are sweet wishes in the letter: I wish my parents "life is better than Nanshan and happiness is like the East China Sea", but I only blame the family members of the villagers for telling too many things. If this letter doesn't make it clear, what do you want to express? then what At this moment, Zhang Ji's heart is so complicated and contradictory.
Whenever the messenger wants to leave, he has to open the envelope for fear of writing something unpleasant to make his parents worry about themselves and that he has written less. Sometimes even if he can't find the mistake, he refuses to post the letter. Although the bright eyes of the messenger will be eclipsed every time, he also knows the mood of Zhang Ji's poet in an instant.
In this way, Zhang Ji scanned the letter repeatedly with sharp eyes, and the locked brow just took care of his lack of thought. How much he wants to return to China at this time!
Looking at the blue sky, Zhang Ji wanted to shout loudly and pour out his wishes. ...
5. Imitate Qiu Si's 500-word composition. The autumn wind blows gently in Luoyang city. At this time, the poet Zhang Ji was walking by the river, looking at the maple trees on the roadside while walking. Maple trees are all red, and from time to time, patches of fiery leaves float in. A gust of wind blew, and Zhang Ji felt chilly. The flowers on the roadside bent down and Zhang Ji tugged at his neck. He looked up and saw geese flying south in the sky, saying, Autumn is coming. Zhang Ji remembers the holiday he spent at home with relatives last year: Last Mid-Autumn Festival, I enjoyed the moon and ate moon cakes with my family. My mother is still sewing clothes for me at home, and my children play with me. My wife helps me cook porridge. I don't know what happened to my mother now. Have you ever had asthma? Has the child grown taller? How is your wife? Is the old father healthy? My mother told me to put on more clothes when I left. My wife prepared a bag of dry food for me, and my father told me to take care of myself when I went out alone. Zhang Ji misses his hometown so much that he is anxious to write a letter to his relatives at home. It's a long story He doesn't know where to start. The pen in his hand is as heavy as a boulder. He thought for a while before he put pen to paper. The next day, the messenger came. When the messenger was about to leave, Zhang Ji shouted. When the messenger set out this time, Zhang Ji looked at the back of the messenger and thought, if only I could go home, Zhang Ji couldn't help crying. He wrote a poem in Luoyang City: Look at the autumn wind, I am eager for a writer's book. I'm so anxious that I'm not afraid. Pedestrians are about to leave.
6. The 350-word sequel to Qiu Si's composition is another coming of late autumn. The whole world seems to be golden. I hurried to the Woods to catch the fallen leaves, but unfortunately they were ruthlessly blown away by the autumn wind. Yes! Fallen leaves always return to their roots. Who can change the laws of nature? Just like the thoughts brought to me by the late autumn.
Fallen leaves have spread all over the forest path, with large yellow leaves on the head and the dependence of fallen leaves and soil at the foot ... At the end of the forest, two white-haired old people are sitting together with sweet smiles on their faces. Do they recall the past in this forest full of thoughts? Yes, they have been together for decades. Now in this golden world, why not recall the past? Perhaps autumn should be a rare peace for the elderly.
At that moment, I finally understood that autumn brought me not only fallen leaves, but also a kind of tranquility, a kind of yearning and a kind of love. ...
I have always kept that yellow fairy tale in my mind. Trees, autumn leaves and fallen leaves all come down to the old man.
7. Rewrite the ancient poem Qiu Si into a short essay with about 350 words. On a quiet night, the poet Zhang Ji looked up at the round moon in front of the small courtyard.
The moon in late autumn, cold, pours ice-like Yin Hui from the west, silently overlooking the earth. I can't help feeling deeply when I think that the Mid-Autumn Festival will be in a few days, and people will be reunited.
A gust of autumn wind blew, making Zhang Ji tremble with cold. He went back to the house and took out the cotton-padded jacket that his mother sewed for him before he left.
I can't help thinking of my old mother and my long-lost hometown. Deep homesickness deeply troubled him.
I want to write a letter to my family when I pick up a pen, but I can't write it in a thousand words. There's so much to say and know.
Zhang Ji finally began to write, enthusiastically telling his feelings of parting with his family. After the letter was written, Zhang Ji's mood was still unsettled for a long time.
In his dream, he returned to his hometown and met his elderly mother. The next day, at sunrise in the east, Zhang Ji couldn't wait to come to the messenger's office and handed the letter to the messenger.
And repeatedly told him that he must send the letter home intact. Just as the messenger was about to leave, Zhang Ji, who was uneasy, hurriedly took the letter back from the messenger.
Open it carefully and read it carefully over and over again, for fear that I have something unclear. This just carefully handed the letter to the messenger.
The messenger rode across the horse and galloped away. Zhang Ji watched him until he disappeared into the sky.
The annual autumn wind blows to Luoyang city, and my wandering son doesn't know how his relatives in his hometown are; Writing a letter to peace has too much to say and I don't know where to start. When the letter is written, I am worried that I have not finished what I want to say; When the messenger started, he opened the envelope and gave it to him.
In Luoyang city, the autumn wind is rustling, and yellow leaves fall from the trees, and the ground is covered with a golden carpet. The tree lost its child and stood alone in the autumn wind.
I have been in Luoyang for five years since I left my hometown. "I miss my relatives every holiday." The Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching, and I am still working in a strange land. I want to write a letter to my distant relatives, but I don't know where to start.
"Dear parents: Hello! How have you been recently? Does dad's shoulder still hurt? Is mom's voice ready? ..... "Alas, my father worked in other places all the year round, leaving shoulder pain, which will not be cured after long-term treatment; Mom has chronic pharyngitis. I wonder if they are better now. "Mom and Dad, please be sure to pay attention to your health! I can't take good care of you because I'm not around. Please forgive me! Dad, don't you know that my little dog has grown up? Mom, the osmanthus in the yard should be in bloom now, right? Brothers and sisters must be shaking osmanthus for you, right? ..... "When I was a child, I shook osmanthus with my brother and sister to help my mother. Sweet-scented osmanthus falls like rain, and the scene is vivid ... Now, all this is so far away from me! "Mom and Dad, I miss you very much. How I want to fly to your side immediately and enjoy the fun of life with you! " Yes, please praise it.
According to Qiu Si's poem, the leaves turned yellow and were ruthlessly blown away by the rustling autumn wind. Zhang Ji, a poet living in Luoyang, witnessed this bleak scene and couldn't help thinking of his hometown.
"Huhuhu, Huhuhu" autumn wind brought a bumper harvest and also brought my homesickness. I fantasize about connecting articles. The trees blown down by the autumn wind seem to be a profound and meaningful letter from home, as if it were a touching greeting.
I want to write a letter to my family. When I was ready to put pen to paper, my heart was full of sadness. Far from home, how much I want to say and write! How much does he want to talk about living alone for a long time? Take this opportunity to write everything he wants to say! The poet thought and thought, and finally set out to write a book, telling the story of his leaving his family and his heart.
The letter was finally written, but the poet's mood could not be calm for a long time. He carefully wrapped the envelope and told the messenger to give it to his family intact. But when the messenger was about to leave, the poet opened the envelope again and read it carefully for fear of missing a word.
The messenger finally hit the road, and the poet watched him until he disappeared into the sky.
Classmate, satisfaction and praise ~
9. A poem "Qiu Si" written by Zhang Ji was compiled into a story. On a lonely night, Zhang Ji finished his dinner and sat in his small yard enjoying the bright moonlight. It hangs in the sky, which really increases the secrets of the 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 a cotton-padded jacket that his mother sewed for him 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.
The next day, as soon as the sun climbed the hillside, Zhang Ji handed the letter to Wang San.
Wang San was preparing. When he left, Zhang Ji took the letter back, opened it and wrote: You should live happily every day, and don't be unhappy about a little thing. After writing these Zhang Ji, he gave the letter 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. I am glad that I can write to my mother, but I am sad that I don't know when I can return to my hometown.
The leaves turned yellow and were ruthlessly blown away by the rustling autumn wind Zhang Ji, a poet living in Luoyang, witnessed this bleak scene and couldn't help thinking of his hometown.
He wants to write a letter to his family. When I was ready to put pen to paper, my heart was full of sadness. Far from home, how much I want to say and write! How much does he want to talk about living alone for a long time? Take this opportunity to write everything he wants to say! The poet thought and thought, and finally set out to write a book, telling the story of his leaving his family and his heart.
The letter was finally written, but the poet's mood could not be calm for a long time. He carefully wrapped the envelope and told the messenger to give it to his family intact. But when the messenger was about to leave, the poet opened the envelope again and read it carefully for fear of missing a word.
The messenger finally hit the road, and Zhang Ji watched him until he disappeared into the sky. Later, Zhang Ji wrote this famous poem "Qiu Si", which has been passed down through the ages.