Tomb-Sweeping Day's Mourning Prose (1): It's the annual Tomb-Sweeping Day again, and it's drizzling and disturbing people's mood.
I had expected Tomb-Sweeping Day to go back to visit her mother's grave, but it was on this day that a powerful force suddenly gave up the idea of going home. It may be the child's unfilial, but before I remember what happened, tears filled my sky with my heart rain and the bitterness of these years!
Stop at the university stage of life, stare at such a happy and perfect scenery, lament loss and deformity, meditate on ownership and dreams, suddenly look back, sigh, and rejoice in childhood. And once you divert your attention, it's different.
Bathed in those faint raindrops, my heart will hurt. Can the cold rain wash away the bitter tears in my heart?
In 2000, in Na Yue, my mother left quietly, so she left. Time flies, parting is like a dream. I bid farewell to my hometown, packed my bags and studied in a foreign land. I burst into tears when the bus started. I was fourteen at that time.
Gradually, childhood dreams, nagging, amiable and respectable memories have gradually drifted away.
Eight years, mom. Do you know how much I miss you? Do you understand how many injuries and blood I have lost along the way? Do you understand, along the way, no one can really understand my feelings.
Trivial worries, no one asks, no one cares, and no one tells; Along the way, I faced the wind and braved the rain, covered in phosphorus injuries, but I could only collect them quietly and cure them quietly!
If you were by my side, I wouldn't be so lonely and helpless, would I? You will read my mind carefully, listen to my story quietly and share my troubles with me, won't you? If you were here ...
I thought a lot about ifs, but they will never come true. Think about it carefully, how naive and naive I am. ...
Before, I also naively thought that my mother sheltered me from the wind and rain when I was a child, and I would hold up a blue sky for my mother when I grew up. Unfortunately, everything in front of me has already changed.
Mom, my heart silently blesses you. Although this Tomb-Sweeping Day can't go back to see you, I believe you can understand the child's feelings. I don't want to cry, just because when I grow up, men won't cry easily, but I still can't help but miss you and feel sad.
In this Tomb-Sweeping Day, the rain is so bleak and the wind is so cold. ...
Tomb-Sweeping Day's Mourning Prose (2): Qingming Rain, Merging into a River of Missing. During my stay in Tomb-Sweeping Day, my heart was always in a state of panic, sadness and silence, a state of fear and depression.
I don't know when it began to rain in the sky. The rain dripped down and soaked my eyes and clothes. A drop of rain passed through my trembling body and gathered in my heart. It was choppy and magnificent, and merged into a river of missing. It took me to the scene in Where Are You Going? Past events echoed in my ears like wind chimes. Unforgettable, unforgettable wound
The cold and thin north wind passed by my ears, whistling and swaying, like weeping and complaining, and like singing: peaches and plums laugh at Qingming, and the wilderness words are bleak. Five-body magpies are noisy and faint trees, and who is heartbroken by yin and yang. Wail and cry, as if falling from the sky, as if echoing in the ear.
I looked at the sounds of nature in the distance, and the night was shrouded in a vibrant atmosphere. Twinkling stars hung in the black velvet night sky, like a drop of crystal tears, bright and about to drip. It's like telling a distant and sad story, with tears in my eyes and unbearable pain.
I seem to see thousands of miles away, beside the desolate dry mountains and mountains, hundreds of tombs are arched, thousands of stone tablets stand in the forest, misty rain covers the courtyard of the tomb of Wanjia, thorns and weeds mourn beside the solemn tombstone, and people who are driven out of their wits and crying kneel beside their ancestors, igniting infinite grief and melancholy in their hearts, making one wish after another, making heaven and earth last forever, and the dead rest in peace and endless life.
Mom, my daughter is unfilial and can't come to your side. At this crossroads, she can lead to the direction of heaven, ignite my thoughts and let the water of my thoughts flow to you.
The wind is raining, and there is a deep sadness. The rain is continuous, dripping with decadent sadness. I struck a match in my hand, and the orchid flame spread rapidly in the food. Money flies, and the flames make a crackling sound, like tears dripping from my heart and beating my heart.
The incense of worship rises in mid-air and reaches the direction that I can see far away. Mom, are you in heaven? You just care about us. Mom, don't forget to put on your cotton-padded clothes on a cold and frosty night. Mom, with dad's company, your home is sunny.
Mom, I miss you. I have merged the bitter water of my thoughts into a trickle, shining in the dark. I have turned the sweetness of my thoughts into mellow rice wine, which exudes intoxicating fragrance. I put my thoughts into a ballad, in the silent night in song for you.
In the moonlight, the clear drizzle, like a string of pearls, comes one after another, looks from a distance, shines in the sky like dense silver lines, and looks forward to it indefinitely. Cut constantly, tangled, and my heart is wandering.
The rain is lingering and the wind is bleak. Despite the stormy weather, mom, I also bow down before your ghost and let my tears flow like a river, still telling you my endless memories and thoughts. I can't bear to leave, and I can't bear to watch Mingbi turn to ashes and leave your side.
Essay on Tomb-Sweeping Day's Mourning (3): I have an appointment tonight. Mainly to participate in the new century vocational school training spot check. Accompany the leaders of the competent department to inspect the teaching situation. Just got back from outside. Turn on the computer, enter the space of Xiangyang classmates, and read this new book "The Feeling of Tomb Sweeping in Qingming Festival". After careful reading, I got a lot of spiritual enlightenment from it.
To be honest, I don't have many friends. A sentence came true, called "and heaven remains our neighbourhood, know yourself and know yourself." Xiangyang has always been regarded as an empathetic childhood friend, because Xiangyang and I have been together since childhood and both like literature. On the way to school, we recite Tang poetry and Song poetry to school together. Although I have grown up with different things and different jobs, I have always felt that kind of innocence in my heart. During the Qingming small holiday these days, there has been no news of Xiangyang, and there are some worries and thoughts in my heart. I also want to pick up the phone and think about the particularity of working in Xiangyang. I have no personality, and generally never take the initiative to disturb. These days, I have entered the sunshine space several times. It was not until this time tonight, as I hoped, that I realized that Xiangyang had come to pay homage to her grandmother and parents. My heart is hot. What a man with temperament! There is a saying: men don't flick when they have tears. During the Qingming Festival, it rained in succession, revealing Xiangyang's nostalgia for his loved ones between the lines. When I read, "It was not until grandma and parents died one after another that the annual Qingming grave sweeping changed from a spring outing with cattle to a painful spring outing. When the incense was lit, my knees fell to the grave, and the voice, smile, style and personality of the older generation even a few words came into our eyes. There was still the warmth that lingered in my mother's arms thousands of miles away, and there were still the sweetness of tears in breast milk. " Feeling this true feeling is the source of a man's masculinity and the foundation of being a man.
I still remember Xiangyang's article "Memories Treasured in My Heart", which made me cry after reading it. I thought I knew Xiangyang very well, but I didn't expect Xiangyang to have such a bitter childhood. Grandma's slim image is so tall in my heart. The sincerity and diligence of Xiangyang students, I think, should be an innate inheritance, as well as grandma's silent preaching. Tonight, I read Xiangyang's "A Kind Bird Losing its Mother and Crying Every Night" and felt guilty for not feeding back, so I couldn't help but burst into tears. "Eyes can't help but also some moist.
Philosophers say: the power of words can strike people's hearts. In this Tomb-Sweeping Day, I want to write about my feelings. I have read teacher Shan Ye's Qingming Love, pastoral teacher's Missing Pear Flowers, and Mei Lan's Qingming Rain. I read Xiangyang's Feeling of Grave Sweeping in Qingming Festival tonight. I feel it. A few girlfriends who have a heart in mind have said everything I want to say. If I write again, I will really teach fish to swim, and I can't write anything new. I agree with Jing Ya's wonderful comments. Thank you, Xiangyang. These touching words gave me the best baptism of my soul in Tomb-Sweeping Day this year!
Tomb-Sweeping Day's mourning prose (4): Qingming Festival, when I was young, I often went to worship my ancestors and sweep the grave. My father never missed me behind my back until I was able to climb mountains and mountains with everyone. I'm older now, and I'm working. There are always many reasons why Qingming doesn't go home. Say sorry to my ancestors. I call this unfilial. Every time I want to go home before Qingming, I am stranded by myself.
It's late spring now, and it will be clear in a few days. I think I just can't go back this year because I'm too busy with work. My career is unstable, but I always want to write something for Tomb-Sweeping Day. Use online emotions to worship ancestors, don't take it amiss! Grandson, I'm sorry. If you know anything, you will blame me, right? I will miss you. Really! Although I've never met you. But in my opinion, you are great. Because at the beginning, my father went to the mountain to pray for me, and I grew up under your blessing, which is why your blessing made my academic performance so good, because my father fought a lawsuit over your cemetery and people. I blushed and blushed at your cemetery. My ancestors, in my mind, you are all gods of my family, and I respect you, just as you sheltered our descendants.
How many days and nights, I stood on the mountain and went home. Facing the direction of going home, my mood can't be calm for a long time. Because there are no footprints for my companions to play with, there are my childhood dreams. During the Qingming Festival, we used to walk hand in hand through the deepest river in our hometown, climb the mountain by ladder, and slide down the mountain along the spring grass into the deserted barren hills and wild forests. I also enjoyed Guanyin sitting on the lotus, which my family has praised many times. Where did I really see the beauty of nature? At that time, I quietly weaved my childhood dream, hoping that one day I could travel around the world with my feet and live a happy and carefree life. Now, in the spring season, my heart has added a lot of sadness. When I watched my colleagues pack their bags and go home, I finally couldn't help thinking. Only then did I realize how important my hometown was to me. It is the cradle of my growth and the eternal destination of my life.
I can't sleep at night. In the moonlight outside the window, it seems like a bright spring flowing out of my heart. I was reminded of my youth again. Everyone will be nostalgic, especially when I was a child. Because of my loneliness, because of my helplessness, people who are far away from home, please burn more paper money for my ancestors and talk about how I, a wanderer in a foreign country, pay tribute to them. Shame on them.