2. Writing a homesick composition is a drizzle outside the window; Tonight, the wind is knocking on my window lattice again, and my homesickness is like a soaked seed, expanding for no reason. The dream of wandering for many days vaguely climbed the winding path in the village.
Who is it that plays homesick music on the flute in the moonlight night, and the sad tune inadvertently fills the wasteland in my heart; Who is reading the ancient poems of homesickness every night, and the degree of sadness drops the boundless and quiet homesickness. I used to think that in this strange city, I was used to the life of eight to five. In the days of frustration, the mountains and rivers in my hometown have gradually drifted away. Looking back suddenly, I found that fragrance was sealed in my heart and I realized that I was a flying kite. No matter where I am, the rope of my heart will always be tied to the buttonwood in front of my hometown.
A rain wet all my memories, homesickness is like a garden full of leeks; Long cut; Cut it long. Everything in my hometown flashed in my memory. In my lonely heart, my thoughts are like fish swimming around. Once indulged in the frustration of life, however, the unchanging posture of that mountain and that simple family and hometown faded into a song without words and a poem with Kubinashi rhyme in poetry. My soul has already floated out and returned to my hometown through thousands of waters in Qian Shan. I am enjoying pure rice wine with simple folks.
When the geese flying south can no longer be seen in the air, when the leaves on the buttonwood are yellow and blue, my unchanging homesickness is playing leisurely, just like the flute in Qingyuan, my hometown. Also like Li Houzhu's "hate like grass, you will live farther and farther".
3. Write homesick poems about Yellow Crane Tower
Cui Hao
The fairy of the past has flown away by the yellow crane, leaving only an empty Yellow Crane Tower.
The yellow crane never revisited earth, there have been no long white clouds for thousands of years.
Every tree in Hanyang has become clear due to sunlight, and Nautilus Island is covered with sweet grass.
But I looked at my hometown, and the twilight was getting thicker, and the mist of sadness was filled on the river waves.
Thoughts in the dead of night
Lipper
The foot of my bed is shining so brightly. Is there frost already?
I looked up at the moon and looked down, feeling nostalgic.
A berth at the foot of Gubei Mountain.
Wangwan
Under the blue mountain, my boat and I meandered along the green water.
Until the river bank widens at low tide, and no wind blows my lonely sail.
... night gives way to the ocean of the sun, and the old year melts in freshness.
I can finally send my messenger, the wild goose, back to Luoyang.
Boarding Guazhou
Wang Anshi
Guazhou is at the mouth of Beijing, separated by several mountains.
Jiang Nanan spring breeze is green, when will the bright moon shine on me?
Duhanjiang River
Song Wenzhi
The sound outside the spine is broken, after winter, summer and spring.
The closer I get to my hometown, the more timid I am, afraid to inquire about people from home.
Think of my brothers on a moonlit night.
Du Fu
The drums of the defenders cut off people's communication, and a lonely goose was singing in autumn in the frontier.
The dew turns to frost tonight, and the moonlight at home is bright!
Brothers are scattered, and no one can ask about life and death.
Letters sent to Luoyang city are often not delivered, and wars often do not stop.
4. Nostalgia in ancient poetry 1000 The faint homesickness was reading quietly under the lamp, and suddenly I seemed to hear someone calling my nickname, and there was a faint "woof-woof" sound in my rhubarb dog.
I climbed The Upper Terrace alone, opened the window and looked, "Hey!" No one was there, but the voice continued to be clear. I listened carefully, and the original voice was from the bottom of my heart. I know, I'm homesick. ......................................................................................................................................................................
When homesickness comes, even dreams are the shadow of home. All I do is cry or use words to vent and soothe my heart. In spring, when I look at the flowers everywhere, the leaves turn green, and the grass swaying with green leaves, my mind is sometimes full of thoughts, and my real external reaction is to laugh and cry.
My hometown, my home, my relatives in my hometown ... I am your concern, and you are my lingering concern. My hometown is a beautiful place with beautiful mountains and rivers. Many people say that I exude an aura since I was a child. I smiled and said, "It is the good mountains and waters in my hometown that gave birth to me."
Really, the mountains in my hometown are really beautiful. When I was young, we liked to play in the mountains. At this time, the mountains in my hometown must have been green long ago; Colorful wildflowers everywhere must be dotted with red faces and bright smiles; There must be golden rape flowers on Dongshan Mountain, and countless butterflies and bees must be beautiful. The peach trees on the western hills must be pink. Are there many people shuttling inside? Oh, I wonder if the rows of ubiquitous ginkgo leaves have opened, and the leaves will soon be used to make tea; Is it still the same under the small suspension bridge as last time? There are countless little goldfish jumping around in the clear water to probe me.
Writing homesickness, the more homesickness, the tears began to tick on the text, and the scene of going home last time was as clear as yesterday. Tears filled my eyes. I saw me, my wife and my children standing in front of my scarlet door. My rhubarb dog wagged his tail at me and heard my father say, "rhubarb dog is so sensible. I haven't seen Steve for several years, and I still know him "; I saw my mother firing in a panic to make my favorite fried bun, which is absolutely impossible for a clever chef to make; I saw my little niece Qing Er calling her aunt and running to me happily; I saw the pomegranate tree sprouting in the yard, and then it must be full of red flowers. I remember when I was a child, my favorite girl and my sister folded pomegranate flowers and put them on their heads. When the pomegranate was ripe, there were always some small heads of children next door on my wall. My mother always smiles and picks a few and hands them over. Their gluttony is really interesting. I saw that the ear of my walnut tree was so long. It must be a small walnut with a big grain of rice. When I was a child, none of our sisters could wait until the walnuts were ripe. When they were really ripe, they were almost eaten by us. Hehe, in fact, we were greedy enough. Also, the big jujube tree in the yard has small yellow flowers, right? Jujube flowers are small, but they are very fragrant ... Well, the most beautiful thing in my big yard is spring.
With light steps, I walked up to my beautiful three-story building. Standing on the roof, I began to look around. I saw Aunt Wang washing clothes and her little granddaughter playing with water. I saw Grandpa Du watering the flowers in his yard, next to his big black dog wandering around funny; I saw uncle Li reading a newspaper in his yard with reading glasses, and a cup of tea next to him was still smoking; I saw my father and my neighbor's grandparents playing cards by the big bluestone in front of my house. My wife stood by and watched while the children were playing. But these old people never play to win money. They all won corn seeds. There are many corn seeds in front of dad. Needless to say, he must have won again. Ah! Grandma Liu's girl came across the hall with a lot of bananas in her pocket. Grandma Liu walked into the house happily with her daughter. This is not easy for grandma Liu. Grandpa Liu left early, and grandma was widowed, bringing up five big girls. Grandma cried a lot when she was young. Now all five girls are very filial. Grandma had a good time ... DuDu, several motorcycles, and at first glance, ah, my brother rode a motorcycle and took his sister-in-law off work.
Sister-in-law smiled and said, "I called my sister and sister. They probably came together." I quickly got up and went out with my lover. A very exquisite van stopped at the door. My sister and I have had a good life in recent years, and we both bought cars.
You see, before the adults got off the bus, the naughty nephew took his little sister with him and jumped out of the car. Sister and brother-in-law, sister and brother-in-law all smiled and said, "You have to stay a few more days when you come back." My lover and I laughed. Dad quickly stopped playing cards and went home. The son took grandma's hand and sat down. This is a rare happy day.
Eating my mother's fried bag, asking about each other's situation, and then chatting together. Well, my parents are in good health, and our sisters work well.
My mother pointed to a group of children screaming like magpies and said to us, "Look, you were like this when you were young." We laughed, and the whole yard laughed. ..... In a blink of an eye, I haven't been home for a long time. Everyone usually contacts by phone. Dad said, "Don't be careless in your work."
Mom said, "Everything is fine at home. You should eat a good meal outside alone. " My brother said, "Don't worry about it at home, I'm here!" "Sister-in-law said," Mom and Dad have us. Come back and have a chat when you are free. "
My sister smiled and said to me on the phone: "Little sister, find a good husband's family, and a good son-in-law will forget about it"; Sister asked on the phone, "Sister, when will you come back?" Old classmates always say with a smile on the phone: "I know you are nourishing by listening to the voice." Come on, do you want our sisters? " ..... At this time, I feel very warm when I think of these things and these words. Oh, the tears of homesickness are so sweet that I feel my heart smiling. Homesickness, my homesickness, winter goes and spring comes, my clothes are getting thinner and thinner, but your weight in my heart is getting heavier and heavier.
It's far.
5. Imitate a poem "Under the Full Moon" with homesickness as its theme. If no one cleans it, then fold a lotus leaf in Zhang Kuo, wrap it in the moonlight and put it in a Tang poem. It is flat, like a crushed acacia ... the moonlight is full of the fragrance of lotus leaves. Homesickness Yu Guangzhong's homesickness as a child is a small stamp. My mother grew up here. Homesickness is a narrow ticket. I was there when the bride was there. Homesickness is a short grave. I was outside when my mother was inside. Homesickness is now a shallow strait. I'm on the mainland side and homesick there. The song of Xi Murong's hometown is Qingyuan flute. It always rings on a moonlit night. The face of my hometown is a vague sadness, like waving my hand in the fog. After parting, homesickness is a tree without rings and will never grow old. The heavy dream of Daoxiang season hangs on the vast fields, and the fragrant breeze blows away the farmers' infatuated dreams. It is not touching, but the colorful golden waves in the festive atmosphere sway in the arms of the water town. People are like drinking a thousand cups of wine here-fertile fields are fragrant for thousands of miles. Wangxiangtai boarded Wangxiangtai, looked at the sky from the foot of the mountain, and sent a touch of Feng Yun's nostalgia. There is no Lin Taoshan Road around, which is curved and narrow. Only the road from my hometown leads directly to Wangxiangtai, watching the mountains and waters in my hometown, watching the willows and pagodas in my hometown, and watching the pine trees in front of my house, just like my grandmother left home for thousands of miles. My eyes have been homesick for years. I always come to Wangxiangtai every year 1 I think of my hometown and miss it inexplicably. Hometown is the old wine brewed by Youzi with millet. The longer it lasts, the more mellow it tastes. When I think of my hometown, I miss my hometown quietly. Hometown is full of delicious food, which tempts distant wanderers to taste it. I think of my hometown. I miss my hometown silently. My hometown is a fragment in the memory of street children. The more you think about it, the more you can't figure out the clue, and the more you can't cut out a complete picture. When I think of my hometown, I miss my hometown in my heart. The longer you miss your hometown, the deeper you will experience it and the greater your touch on your soul. How do I miss my hometown, wandering? Missing my hometown is actually missing my childhood friends, old houses and land. However, what I miss most is my old parents. Hometown, miss my hometown, miss my hometown without any reason. Whenever I face the bright moon, I miss my hometown like a flood. Hometown, miss my hometown, you don't need any excuses. Wanderers miss their hometown all the time. On the Mid-Autumn Festival moonlit night, thousands of miles are missed. A bright moon hung high, evoking their infinite leisure. Looking around is more pious than a pilgrim. Looking at the same full moon over the distant north, I hope the glow of my hometown can bring back my warm and moist tears. The cry in my ear suddenly sounded under the laurel tree, and my mother's kind face fell among the flowers. The shadow of my father standing in the sunset is thin, and the tenderness of autumn rain seems to rise. Drifting duckweed leads the thread of missing, how far will it fly. Wandering footprints extend the blood of the family, and how wide they will penetrate at most. I am ashamed of this heavy debt and sigh when I can be filial to the bright moon. The flying eagle flying over my hometown snowfield in the moonlight was once the fruit of my first love. Is it still hanging on the laurel of memory, emitting fragrance? On this moonlit night, the bleak autumn wind will make a floating heart colder and colder. The autumn is crisp, the moon is dark and windy, and the drizzle is falling. The high tide in the chest breaks through the river embankment of missing and floods. Wanderers miss the mountains in their hometown so green, the water in their hometown so green and the clouds in their hometown so light. The homesickness of Xi Murong's hometown is a flute that always rings on a moonlit night. The face of my hometown is a vague disappointment, like waves in the fog. After parting, homesickness is a tree without rings. I will never get old. Homesickness author: easy to read. When the bell of dawn struck, I woke up a sleeping dream. Maybe this is a homesick dream. Spring breeze and autumn wind sent away yesterday's parting melody. What I can't give up is that the wind and rain in my hometown turn into tiny water drops. Follow the footsteps of the wind, take root in lingering feelings, brush willow branches and call home. Are you okay? Shuttling between the stars and the moon, I always miss my hometown. The lyrics of David Jiang's Where Peach Blossoms Bloom are in the place where peach blossoms bloom, and there is my lovely hometown. Peach trees are reflected on the clear water. Ah! Hometown! Where I was born and raised, the peach grove is surrounded by beautiful villages. No matter where I stand guard, I always look forward to you affectionately. Where the peach blossoms are in full bloom, there is my charming hometown. The children's laughter ripples in the peach blossom source, and the peach blossom is red on the girl's face. Ah! Hometown! An unforgettable place, for your better scenery, I would like to be stationed in the frontier of ice and snow. Ah! Hometown! An unforgettable place, for your better scenery, I would like to be stationed in the frontier of ice and snow.
6. The homesickness composition in ancient poetry wrote in the rhyme of Weishan Pavilion: "The heart is driven by the southern cloud and follows the northern geese.
How many flowers are there under the fence in my hometown today? The characteristics of this poem are "the integration of the big and the small" and "seeing the big from the small". The author first launched a grand clear autumn sky: however, he saw a white cloud in the south sky, which could not withstand the incitement of the cold north wind and quietly died north; However, a flock of geese from the north came to the south to escape the cold and autumn.
Seeing things, the author thinks of himself. My hometown is in the far north, but I live in the southern dynasties to escape the war, just like this flying goose in the south; However, the homesickness of wanderers is getting deeper and deeper, just like the clouds floating in the north, which can be described as "being in the Southern Dynasties and being in the North".
The word "chase" shows that he is homesick and wants to fly away from Nanyun, which is a strong subjective desire. Compared with the word "Sui" in the next sentence, "Sui" has the meaning of being passive and helpless, which describes his helplessness in avoiding chaos in the south. The autumn scenery, the clouds flying south, the geese flying north and the geese flying south written by the author all imply that the north wind has started, which is "writing without writing" and even more bleak.
Then, with a stroke of a pen, he wrote down the chrysanthemums under the fence of his hometown, secretly implying the meaning of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence and seeing Nanshan leisurely", and wrote down his nostalgia for the leisurely life in his hometown. There is also the folk custom of "drinking chrysanthemums on Double Ninth Festival", but now the poet can only send himself to the end of the world. The contrast between the two is very bleak.
"How many flowers are there today?" When I ask, I will give full play to my homesickness complex, condense my image to a minimum, and focus on flowers. At least it's really great. The question is full of endless thoughts, which makes the poem come to an abrupt end, but it has endless aftertaste.
Reading homesick poems in ancient poems reminds me of my family and friends in my hometown and the happy rural life I spent in my hometown.
7. Write ancient poems and modern poems about homesickness 1 "Homesickness" Homesickness ice and snow melt in the embrace of the warm sun, and the grass grows green all over the world. When the east wind blows the poet's wine that hurts spring, the sunset slowly falls with the flying flowers in March. In March, I dragged my long back and wandered the streets of a foreign land. The stranger's face is cold and indifferent, watching every passerby in a hurry weave into thin pieces like endless silk rain. I have been living in a wandering mood and I am very disappointed. I leaned against the shabby door of an inn and stared at my hometown. My dream home is a foggy village. The flower cat snores and crouches by the needle and thread of the loving mother. The cuckoo is whispering in her ear, so it is better to go home. We are all chess pieces crossing the river. There is no retreat, and there is no turning back. Distant homesickness is paid to the soil dripping with sweat. The persistent belief is deeply buried in my forehead. In my hometown, there are village girls dressed in red and green, all of which are familiar and unfamiliar to me. I haven't seen the ancient sea otter for a long time, which once again took me back to my youth. The old trees at the entrance of the village are still there. My grandmother stood under the tree waiting for me to come back. Now I am eager to find the old figure that seems to remind me all the time, until the tears of memories overflow my heart. The lovely cuckoo flew to the clouds and swept straight to the foot of the side dome. Stepping on the wet grass and dancing with the wind is my hometown that I miss day and night. How can I forget this? How can I forget this? The deep homesickness precipitated in my heart 3. The evocative piccolo returns in the afterglow. Mother, the East can't stay long. In the tropical ocean where the typhoon was born, the air pressure in the North Pacific was very low in July.
Come back, mom, the south won't stay long. On the equator in July, the one-way moxibustion on pedestrians' feet by the sun train. Come back, mother, the north can't stay long. In the white reindeer kingdom, there is no rest night in July, only daytime.
Come back, mom, you can't stay in a foreign country for long. The small urn dreams of being next to the French window, accompanied by the plants you planted yourself.
Come back, mom, and protect your town after the fire. Spring is coming, and I will tread the wet and cold Qingming Road and bury you in a small grave in my hometown.
Bury you in Jiangnan, a small town in Jiangnan. Willows hang down to your grave. When spring comes, you should dream of a girl and your mother.
On the Qingming Road, my footprints will be deep, and the willow's long hair will be dripping with rain. Mother, my memory will drop and my soul will come back. Mother, come and protect this empty city. When I die, when I die, bury me. Between the Yangtze River and the Yellow River, my head is resting, and my white hair is covered with black soil.
In China, the most beautiful and motherly country, I slept peacefully, slept all over the mainland and listened to both sides. Requiem begins with the eternal music of the Yangtze River and the Yellow River, flowing and facing the East. This is the most indulgent and spacious bed, and people can sleep contentedly. Once upon a time, a young man from China once looked west in the frozen Michigan, hoping to see the dawn of China through the darkness, instead of going home. He used China's eyes 17 years of gluttony maps, from West Lake to Taihu Lake, and then to Chongqing with birds and flowers.
Homesickness was a small stamp when I was five years old. When my mother grew up there, homesickness was a narrow ticket. I was there when the bride was there. Later, homesickness became a temporary grave. I was outside when my mother was inside. Homesickness is now a shallow strait. The first six hours in mainland China brought me a ladle of Yangtze River water. The drunken taste of the Yangtze River water is the taste of homesickness. Give me a ladle of Yangtze River water. Water, Yangtze River water, give me a Zhang Haitang red, begonia red, and blood-like begonia red. Burning pain is homesickness. Give me a Zhang Haitang red, a Haitang red, a snow-white letter, and a homesickness letter. Give me a piece of snow white, a piece of snow white, a mother-like wintersweet fragrance, a mother-like wintersweet fragrance. Give me a smell of wintersweet. One flavor of wintersweet is cricket. Mr. Y, a poet from Taiwan Province Province, said: Overseas, I heard about it at night. It's that cricket, flapping the golden wind with its steel wings, jumping across the strait, landing quietly over Taipei and singing in your yard every night. It was the cricket that sang in July, in the Tang style cricket, in the nineteen ancient poems, beside Mulan's loom, and in Jiang Kui's words. It was the cricket that sang the bonfire of the Great Wall by the post road in the mountains. In the courtyard of the hotel, I sang among weeds in the battlefield, among lonely people, among wounded soldiers, I heard crickets singing in your memory, I sang about childhood surprises, I sang about loneliness in middle age, I thought of carving bamboo as a cage, I thought of moon cakes, I thought of pomegranate fruits covered with pearls, I thought of flying yellow leaves in my hometown, I thought of piles of hay in the field, I thought of my mother telling us to go back and add clothes. Many, many, many crickets in an alley in Taipei are singing, crickets in a village in Sichuan are singing, and everyone in China is singing everywhere, which is more monotonous than monotonous music and more harmonious than the most harmonious voice. Water is dew burning into light, jade fire turns into birds, partridges crow in the hearts of native speakers, crickets sing outside your window, singing outside mine, and you are listening to you. Miss me, I'm listening, I'm singing. Oh, you should guess what I'm singing and I'll guess what you're thinking. China people have the thinking of China people, while China people have the ears of China people.
8. Imitate homesickness poems.
Ignorant time
Homesickness is a warm sweater.
The person wearing it is at this end.
The weavers are over there.
after school
Homesickness is a shallow stream.
I stand at the finish line.
Mother is the source.
Grow up
Homesickness is a distant flute.
He is blowing over there.
I'm listening at this end
But now
Homesickness is a bright moon.
The viewer is at this end.
The man who is watching is over there.
painful
Desperate
Pain is a long journey.
For so long
Tired
Lonely time
Pain is one's dance.
Start with yourself.
The ending is also yourself.
Difficult time
Pain is an infinite space.
I want to leave.
But I can't find the exit.
When in doubt
Pain is a constantly dividing cell.
Solved this
This is breeding again.
happy
Hours later
Happiness is a little candy.
Hold it in your mouth
But my heart is sweet
After graduation
Happiness is a thick record of classmates.
There was a lot of people on every side.
The truth is concentrated in one place.
We'll talk about it later.
Happiness is a beautiful family portrait.
time goes by
But the smile will never disappear.
When I was a child, friendship was a small seesaw, with me at one end and my other end.
When I grow up, friendship is a long telephone line. I'm here and my friends are there.
Later, friendship was a luxurious courtyard. I am outside, and my bosom friend is inside.
Now, friendship is a vague memory. I am here, and my childhood was there.
When I was young.
Childhood is a clean stream.
Happiness is among them.
Trouble is outside.
A little bigger.
Childhood is a curved Hongqiao.
Immature is in the back.
Be rational in front of you.
adult
Childhood is a sweet dream.
Simple in heart
A burden on the shoulder
old age
Childhood is a small photo.
Childlike heart is over there.
Living here.
When I was young,
Homesickness is a deep yearning,
I miss my hometown,
I miss everything in my hometown.
When I grow up, homesickness is a blank sheet of paper.
There's nothing on the paper,
Only my nostalgia for my hometown.
Later,
Homesickness is a thick book,
My memory stayed in the book,
Memories are memories of childhood.
Now, homesickness is my nostalgia for my childhood.
I don't need it anymore,
Because, I grew up.