Li Bai is a little sad. He covered the horse with sand and left here with a sigh. But because he saw a mirage many times, Li Bai almost committed suicide and gave up the hope of going on.
At this time, his eyes looked straight ahead-clear water under the shade of tall coconut trees, delicious fruits on nameless trees next to coconut trees, and fresh fish in the water. Although Li Bai thought it was still a mirage, he couldn't help but walk over and take a look because of curiosity-
Oh! This is not a mirage at all! The sun shines on the water, and the golden waves and fish scales shine, which is simply a desert oasis! Great, I can finally replenish my strength!
It was a miracle. Li Bai thought about taking off his clothes and trousers, jumped into the water directly, took a cold bath, and time slipped away unconsciously after landing. It's already night.
Li Bai hung his clothes on vines hanging between trees to dry, set up his own tent, ate grilled fish and fruit, and drank the wine in the wine bottle gourd he carried with him. Suddenly, he was full of poetry and sang some poems. Li Bai was sleepy and fell asleep in the convertible.
The silvery moon hangs in the night sky like a black goose down carpet, and the naughty little stars shine like shiny diamonds.
The moonlight shone into Li Bai's bed through the window of the tent. Li Baizheng tossed and turned and couldn't sleep. He just sat up and looked at the moon and wrote poetry.
"The foot of my bed is shining with such bright light. Is it frosty already? . Looking up, I found that it was moonlight, sinking again, and I suddenly thought of home. "
After the moon was praised, it was brighter with some faint pink-she was probably blushed by the great poet Li Bai.
Oh, this wonderful story, although it shows that Li Bai is very hard, is to live a good life with peace of mind. Therefore, he can be so beautiful at the end of the story, and he didn't end up like his horse.
2. A note for an absent person who wrote a 400-word story with ancient poetry.
Fan zhaojun
One day, Jia Dao's mother was seriously ill and had to be treated with a very special herbal medicine. Jia Dao immediately thought of a friend, a herbalist named Hermit, who could produce many kinds of medicines. His family lives in the mountains far away.
When the first bird song fell from the sky and the first ray of sunshine shone on the earth, Jia Dao set out hopefully. He walked for three days and nights before he found the hermit's home.
This is a shabby thatched house. There are towering trees in front of the house and lush forests behind it. A little boy sat in front of the door knitting a bamboo basket.
Jia Dao hurried forward and asked, "Warawako, are you a hermit's apprentice?"
The boy replied, "Yes!"
Jia Dao was very happy and then asked, "Is your master there?"
The little boy stood up and said, "Master has gone to collect medicine."
Hearing this, Jia Dao showed an anxious look on his face and asked, "Where did your master go to collect medicine?"
"I only know that he is on the mountain, and the mountain is foggy. I don't know where he is! " The young man replied.
After listening, Jia Dao looked at the distant mountain, sighed and shook his head in disappointment, but remembered his mother who was seriously ill at home and said firmly, "Then I will wait for your master here!" " Say that finish, just wait in front of the door with the little boy, and so on.
3. Writing an Ancient Poetry Story "Yuan Day 400" Composition Silver Candle Qiu Guang drew a cold screen and gently fanned the fireflies. It's as cool as water at night, sitting and watching the morning cow and the weaver girl. " This is the ancient poem Autumn Night, the first Tang poem I can recite, which leads me into the ocean of ancient poetry.
When I was a child, I lived with my grandfather who loved Tang poetry and listened to him recite all kinds of Tang poetry all day. Over time, under the influence of my grandfather, I became poetic and often took the initiative to read various Tang poems.
Once, my grandfather taught me a Song of Eternal Sorrow, and one of them made me appreciate the most: "If you don't work hard, you will be sad." This sentence is concise and clear, which hit the nail on the head and expressed that we should cherish the good times now and don't waste them, otherwise it will be too late to study when we are old, leaving only a lot of sadness. In this poem, "Sunflowers in the green garden, the morning dew waits for the sunrise." This puzzles me, because I don't understand why the poet wrote this sentence. I think this sentence is redundant. Later, I went to ask my well-informed grandfather, and he answered my question with a smile. It turns out that the poet's description of this scene is to better contrast the following artistic conception and pave the way for the next * * *. In this way, I learned another trick from ancient poetry, which also played a decisive role in my usual practice and added a lot to my composition. Therefore, I love ancient poetry more and more, because reading ancient poetry not only benefits me a lot, but also makes me more skilled in the use of writing skills in practice. For example, I know from ancient poems that the full text should be written at the end to make the finishing point. I know that some places should be highly concise, and some places should be written in detail. I also know that when writing, you must have clear paragraphs and clear organization, so that people can read comfortably and get high marks.
In short, a thousand words can be summed up in one sentence, I love you! I have benefited a lot from you. I not only gained knowledge, but also purified my soul!
4. A note for an absent person who wrote a 400-word story with ancient poetry.
One day, Jia Dao's mother was seriously ill and had to be treated with a very special herbal medicine. Jia Dao immediately thought of a friend, a herbalist named Hermit, who could produce many kinds of medicines. His family lives in the mountains far away.
When the first bird song fell from the sky and the first ray of sunshine shone on the earth, Jia Dao set out hopefully. He walked for three days and nights before he found the hermit's home.
This is a shabby thatched house. There are towering trees in front of the house and lush forests behind it. A little boy sat in front of the door knitting a bamboo basket.
Jia Dao hurried forward and asked, "Warawako, are you a hermit's apprentice?"
The boy replied, "Yes!"
Jia Dao was very happy and then asked, "Is your master there?"
The little boy stood up and said, "Master has gone to collect medicine."
Hearing this, Jia Dao showed an anxious look on his face and asked, "Where did your master go to collect medicine?"
"I only know that he is on the mountain, and the mountain is foggy. I don't know where he is! " The young man replied.
After listening, Jia Dao looked at the distant mountain, sighed and shook his head in disappointment, but remembered his mother who was seriously ill at home and said firmly, "Then I will wait for your master here!" " Say that finish, just wait in front of the door with the little boy, and so on.
5. Write a 400-word composition based on a poem. In this unit, we learn poetry. A few friends and I formed a group to collect and appreciate poems. I matched Wei's poem "Bird Sound Stream" with pictures and poems. This poem is about the moonlit scenery in the mountains in spring, and it is one of Wang Wei's many well-known landscape poems.
The main feature of Wang Wei's poems is also the artistic feature of many of Wang Wei's landscape poems: poets are very good at writing dynamics in the static state. In the first sentence, "people are idle and osmanthus flowers fall", there is movement in silence, and the dynamics of falling flowers reflect the silence of no one. In the second sentence, "the night is quiet and the mountains are empty", the key point is the word spring. Whether it's flowers, bright moon or birds singing, it's all related to spring. The last two sentences are dynamic and static, and the contrast highlights the static described in the first two sentences. The third sentence, "The moon rises to startle the birds", is written that the moonlight shines into the bird's nest, which makes the birds wake up and feel surprised: Is it the dawn in the east, and the day is coming? So they were surprised and asked each other to send out a song ... suddenly the moon got into a dark cloud and the birds nearby were silent. They fell asleep peacefully and no longer responded to the call of their distant companions. In the fourth sentence, "Time sings in the spring flow", the song is written with the word "time", which not only describes the characteristics of the scenery in great detail, but also creates a contrast between the dynamic and the static from the hearing, thus vividly setting off a more peaceful situation!
Wang Wei's poems are fresh and natural, simple and pure, and the words seem ordinary. However, the poems composed of these simple words have achieved extraordinary results: on the moonlit night in the spring in the mountains, everything is so harmonious, like a far-reaching ink painting. This tells us a truth: there is no need to pile up some gorgeous words when writing a composition. We can write a good article with plain language and clever ideas.
This is my favorite poem.
General comment: The author has grasped the artistic features of Wang Wei's landscape poems, with well-organized narration and fluent language, which has brought us into the artistic conception of "painting in poetry and poetry in painting". What is more gratifying is that the young author has a deep feeling in the process of appreciation: no matter how dull the language is, he can still write a good article as long as he has clever ideas.
6. Choose an ancient poem learned in primary school and write an article (about 400 words). Unconsciously, the summer heat has quietly gone away, and the rustling autumn wind sometimes permeates the streets and alleys of Luoyang. Yellowing leaves can no longer perch on trees and look into the distance. As the autumn wind blows in the air, they ripple aimlessly. I don't know where they will end up, adding nutrients to the growth of which tree next year. The grass's body also turned yellow and lost its former luster. Migratory birds fly south in droves, and occasionally one or two songs cut through the quiet sky. It's getting colder and colder, and people put on autumn clothes.
The poet Zhang Ji stood at the entrance of the inn and looked south-what is his hometown like now? He looked and thought as usual, but unconsciously his eyes were sore, and his homesickness could not help but invade Zhang Ji's heart.
"Autumn is coming, autumn is coming ..." He murmured. As he spoke, he remembered the Mid-Autumn Festival again. The more he thought about it, the more sad he became. The figure of an old mother, the voice of a young son who was not sensible, and the words of his wife before he left. ...
"Write a letter home," Zhang Ji turned and walked back to the inn. "Don't let my family worry about me." Write as you say. He quickly spread out the rice paper, dipped in a brush, and held a pen in his hand. However, I really don't know how to write a thousand ideas. A pen dipped in good ink stagnated in the air.
"What to write? How are the old mother, wife and children? " Thinking about thinking, Zhang Ji's nose was sour, and a few drops of bitter tears flowed out unwillingly. ...
The next day, Zhang Ji held the written letter in his arms as if it were his treasure. Find the messenger, Zhang Ji handed the letter with both hands, and repeatedly told:
"Be careful on the road and be sure to give this letter to your family."
"Ok, don't worry."
The messenger turned and mounted his horse to go. Zhang Ji seems to suddenly think of something. He asked for the letter again, opened it again, read it again and again, and said something to himself. Finally, when he was sure that nothing was lost, he gave it to the messenger.
The messenger whipped the horse and galloped away. Zhang Jixiang made a statue and stood on the side of the road for a long time without leaving. ...
Hope to adopt (Qiu Si)
7. Make up a story with 500 words of ancient poetry. In winter, the wind is cold, and the snow like goose feathers covers the earth, and the jade is everywhere, wrapped in silver. In a shabby hut, under the dim light, I saw an old man over sixty sitting in the dim light, sewing clothes for a child who was about to leave home. Mother squinted, holding a needle in her left hand and a thread in her right. In this kind of sewing, she is very worried about her son. Her family is poor, and she has no money to buy silks and satins for her children. She can only sew some coarse cloths for her children, but in these coarse cloths.
Late at night, the biting cold wind invaded the house through rags, which made mother shudder. She stood up, hung down the sore quilt, took a cup of hot tea, went into her son's room, dressed him, and said worriedly, "Son, it's cold, go to bed early, and we will leave tomorrow!" Meng Jiao put down the book in her hand and looked at the haggard figure, full of thoughts. His mother is meticulous in sewing clothes for her son who is about to leave home, for fear that no one will sew clothes for him in other places. His hands are covered with calluses like branches, and his mother is worried that her son will go a long way. Her mother had needles in the dim light, rubbed her eyes and cut her hair from time to time, and her weather-beaten face was haggard and worried. "Go out when you go out." Meng Jiao looked at her mother's wrinkled face with tears in her eyes, holding her calloused hand and being deeply moved. She wants to be with her mother, but she doesn't want to disappoint her hopes. After many troubles, she was finally admitted to a small official. She is ecstatic, but this kindness is higher than the sky, thicker than the earth and deeper than the sea, but she can't repay her. This can't help but make Meng Jiao deeply touched. Tomorrow, I will leave my dear mother and his hometown where he was born and raised. How can my mother repay me? How does this grass heart return the warmth of spring? How can a son repay his mother's kindness?
It is still cold outside the window, but it is still warm inside.
Please write a composition with an ancient poem. Can you read this?
Love songs in autumn
Since ancient times, every autumn has been sad and lonely.
I say autumn is better than spring.
In the clear sky, a crane is walking among the clouds.
It brought poetry to Bixiao.
-Inscription (Liu Yuxi's autumn poems)
Autumn is a bleak season. When the wind blows, the yellow leaves on the tree rustle down, like a golden butterfly with a broken soul, flying to the embrace of Mother Earth. It melts in the soil of spring and becomes nectar, protecting the tree and the hope of spring germination.
Autumn gives people withering, desolation and desolation, and it also gives people maturity, floweriness and deep thought.
Autumn is a harvest season, and the wheat in the field opens its mouth and eyes, waiting for the farmers who come to harvest. Storage in winter, sowing in spring and farming in summer finally ushered in the golden autumn and golden harvest. How much blood and sweat, how much busy, are indifferent to dissipate in this golden ocean, and finally go up in smoke, leaving only the beautiful scenery in front of us. Autumn is a reward for the sweat of the other three seasons.
Autumn is the season of maturity. The dream of spring, the feeling of summer and the memory of winter are all gone. Autumn gets rid of the innocence of spring, the fanaticism of summer and the silence of winter, and becomes more mature, gorgeous and graceful.
The autumn moon is clear, unlike the spring moon, Xia Yue is elegant, and the winter moon is bleak;
Autumn rain is elegant, unlike spring rain, summer rain is unbridled, and winter rain is dull;
Autumn flowers are very delicate, unlike spring flowers, which are elegant in summer and Leng Yan in winter.
Autumn is an extremely romantic season, and the wild geese in the south will make you think a lot.
I love autumn, love its beauty, love its truth and love its romance.
Autumn is an extremely realistic season, and its chilling autumn colors accommodate the withering of everything. Desolate, mature, without any cover.
I love autumn, its beauty and solemnity. Autumn is hazy and bright, full of romance.
9. write a composition with ancient poems, shepherd boy
At dusk, the sun gently plunged into the arms of the mountains, and suddenly turned into a bright moon like an excellent magician. The bright moonlight, like a gauze, gently covers the quiet fields. Weeds dance gently-in the vast green grass on a moonlit night; Facing the faint moonlight; A little shy, with a hint of joy, dancing. ...
Listen-who played the melodious flute so joyfully and softly? It continued intermittently and echoed on the Yuan Ye with the breeze. Walking in, it turned out that the flute player was a shepherd boy, riding a strong cow and coming home very late. Dressed in hemp fiber and straw hat, he swung his little feet on both sides of the cow's back and happily returned to a thatched cottage by the stream. When I stood in the bushes and stared at the brightly lit window for a long time ... In a short time, the child came out with brisk steps, still wearing a green hemp fiber and a small straw hat, clutching a bamboo flute. Another trot, shuttling through the Woods. I followed him quietly, only to see him come to that field again, find a flat place, stretch and yawn, but he didn't even take off his straw hat, so he lay down and rested with a slender thatch in his mouth. At this time, I was tired, too. I fell asleep not far from him ...
The rooster began to sing and the sun fell asleep.