Drums are dull and soldiers actively use them.
Cao Tuguocheng, I travel south alone.
From Sun Zizhong, Chen Pinghe and Song Dynasty.
No, I'm going home. I'm worried.
The man who lives in the same place lost his horse.
Look for it, under the forest.
Life and death are generous, and Zi Cheng says.
Hold your hand and grow old with your son.
I am rich, but I am still alive.
Sorry, but I believe it. Appreciation: This poem describes the soldiers' feelings that they can't go home for a long time, and expresses their yearning for going home and their loved ones.
A strong desire for reunion. The poem begins with a trip to the south and then writes about the pain of not returning after the war.
I also wrote the memories of holding hands with my relatives at the beginning, which were very strong until the end.
Controlled demolition, the second time to write, the context is clear, and the emotions are progressive. Progress in narration
Emotional expression, lyricism and plot development are closely linked and complement each other.
Naturally.
Li He-Guan Jie Drum
Year: Tang Dynasty
Author: Li He-"Official Street Drum"
The content rumbles to urge the sun to turn, and the evening rumbles to call the moon out.
In the capital, the pale yellow spring has just been replaced by new curtains, and Zhao Feiyan's fragrant bones have already been buried in the mausoleum.
The drums have been shattered for thousands of years, and Emperor Hanwu can no longer hear the drums in the official street of the emperor.
You can see the color of reed flowers from Cui Jun, and only Nanshan guards China.
Even the gods have buried the immortals several times, only the drums and drums come and go, echoing forever.
/kloc-Yuan Mei on the evening of 0/February 15.
More and more heavy, more and more urgent, and gradually the voice died.
The window is brighter, and it snows every day.
Join the army with Yang Jiong.
The bonfire shines in Xijing, and my heart is uneven.
Tooth Zhang resigned from Phoenix Que and rode around Longcheng.
The snow is dark with colorful flags, and the wind is noisy with drums.
Being a centurion is better than being a scholar.
Wang Ji menzuyong
At the sight of Yantai, the guests were frightened, the drums roared, and Han would camp.
In the cold light of endless snow, the high flags on the three borders rose like dawn.
Battlefield even in Hu Yue, mountains and clouds like the chairman from the sea to bear the Great Wall.
Although no young employee is destined to be a great general, I threw away my writing brush, just like a student throwing away his hat to prepare a lasso, and I challenged what might happen.
Xuhu
Mangroves in full bloom are singing, grass is growing, and egrets are flying in Pinghu.
The weather is fine and pleasant, and several boats play flute and drum at dusk.