The Book of Songs, the national style, the prosperity of Nan Zhou Guanluo, and the white dew frost. The so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
People who know me in The Book of Songs, National Style and Qin Feng make me worry; If you don't know me, what do you want? Who is this? "The Book of Songs, National Style, Feng Wang and Su Parting" uses Xiao, but it doesn't appear for a day, such as Xi. The Book of Songs, National Style, Feng Wang and Caige is graceful and graceful.
"The Book of Songs, National Style, Zheng Feng and Ji Zi" I passed away in the past, and a bright future has emerged. Now think about it, it is raining and snowing. The Book of Songs, Xiaoya Cai Wei, is the stone of other mountains, which can attack jade. (The Book of Songs Xiaoya heming) Hold your hand and grow old with your son.
"The Book of Songs, National Wind, High Wind and Drumming" is twinkling, and I have no food. When I was three years old, I was willing to take care of you. When I die, I will find my daughter and live in a happy place.
(Feng Wei said).
2. 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.
3. How to write a composition with the most classic passages in the Book of Songs? The acacia background in the Book of Songs is on this side of the long years. On the night when the spring rain was falling, I turned on the orange light, opened the picture scroll of ancient poems, untied the cable under the ancient trees on the lonely lake in the Book of Songs, set sail offshore, and traveled through the Millennium storm to find the hazy background of Qing Xiao Yisan in the Book of Songs. I feel sad in my heart.
The mainland in the river under the waning moon, lingering and green Ruyan Liu, vaguely like a dream, comes lightly, like rain hitting my quiet heart pool. This is a poetic cry. Looking back at the depths, endless lovesickness and nostalgia always wander in the chirp: My Fair Lady. This beautiful poem is the sail that every lonely watchman waits for.
The sun shines on the mountains, undulating and winding. I tied the reins in the shadow of the tree and let the grass talk to the tired horse softly. A horn cup with bright stripes, filled with thoughts that I can't hold in my heart. In the wind, my chapped lips sipped sadness full of wind flowers: I love, I am a horse, I care about him, but I will never be hurt.
This kind of sadness has crossed the infinite time and space and filled my chest. Taoyao, burning its China, its Ye Zhenzhen, poetry and painting.
Such a beautiful scenery, such a beautiful life, let the melancholy eyes turn into the spring water of Ying Ying, with tender feelings. Peach blossoms are like people, people are like peach blossoms, and falling petals are dotted in the favorites of memories, so that peach-like thoughts linger in dreams.
Green leaves are exquisitely soaked in honey-like sunshine, and golden veins flow happily in the bottom of my heart like streams. Life used to be as beautiful as peach petals, but poetry was as fragrant as green leaves. When the fog cleared and the wind blew gently, the girl who was once in the corner of the city smiled like a sunflower. The wind and frost of three thousand years is only light on her charming face, and the beautiful charm remains the same. Her gentle love makes me ecstatic.
The delicate and slender red tube grass and rosy stripes shine on my heart like a girl's love. It is a love story, and the flute rhyme of acacia is pure and flawless, otherwise it is not an emerald diamond ring, but it is better than an emerald diamond ring. Give me a peach and return it to Qiong Yao. I repay her with a beautiful heart, and knowing her is my blessing for a thousand years. I would like to take her boating, fold a book of songs into a paper crane and fly with her in the morning light of 2 1 century.
Love is an eternal swimming, and it can't stop. Love is the tacit understanding of the soul, always wading away.
For my dream, I keep my promise. Reed will grow old, but acacia will not grow old. The white dew is frost, and the so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
Reed testifies, Bailu testifies, looking through autumn water like a fossil, life is still waiting without regrets. Tracing back from it, the road is blocked and long. Tracing back from it, it is in the middle of the water.
I can't feel your orchid-like breath, but I can see your beautiful image in the hazy moonlight: "The moon is bright, people are beautiful, Shu Yao corrects me, and I am tired." In the sultry moonlight, your graceful figure makes my yearning heart restless, like the surging river in the moonlight for thousands of years.
Love is like the four seasons, flowers bloom and fall, green and fat are red and thin, autumn is full and winter is dry, and the four seasons change colors. Vicissitudes make love rich and beautiful: spring spreads, summer grows, autumn matures and winter is calm.
In the past, I was gone, and Liu Shu was Yi Yi. Today, I was thinking that it was raining. This desolation of falling snow, who can solve that helplessness and loneliness, and how can it be carried by shallow acacia?
I can't sleep on the night of spring rain, and the shallow rain is beating on the poem and wetting my dream. So, in the orange light and shadow, I untied the cable and rowed upstream to find the back of Acacia in the Book of Songs. The back is like a flute, sorrowful and blurred, which is the immortal soul of the Book of Songs.
During the winter vacation, my mother said that recommending me to read a good book would make me feel the real life in ancient times and be there.
I accepted it gladly. The Book of Songs? With questions, I walked into the field of the Spring and Autumn Book of Songs and felt a different kind of fun. The Book of Songs is a collection of poems compiled by Kong Qiu and others, and it is the quintessence of China for 5,000 years.
It was born in the pre-Qin period, and contains about 500 years of poems from the Western Zhou Dynasty to the mid-Spring and Autumn Period, with 305 poems, mainly lyrical, including richness, elegance and ode. Reading the Book of Songs, I seem to see the colorful real life of that era, enter the spiritual world of people at that time, and feel their joys and sorrows.
This book describes the poor life of the people at the bottom of society at that time. For example, the Tang style, the national wind, "Wang Yi has disadvantages, can't he? Hey, mom and dad, what are you doing? " Some people express their deep thoughts about their loved ones and their hometown, such as "The Wind", "I am in a hurry, I hope my father." Some people use ancient times to satirize the present, such as Ya Xiaoya, "General of Drum Bell Meeting, Tang Tang of Huai River, Sadness, Gentleman, Huai Yun will never forget."
There are good wishes for love. For example, "National Wind and Strong Wind" "Life and death are broad, I will tell my son to hold your hand and grow old with my son." ..... My mother told me that she had heard people say that when reading the highest realm of The Book of Songs, we can clearly feel the simple and true artistic beauty of ancient times: swallows fly in spring, breeze blows in summer, glory in autumn and dawn in winter; You can feel the breeze of the fifteen countries flowing lightly around you, and you can listen to the plaintive voice of the poets in the pre-Qin period.
I am proud that I am from China and proud of China's 5,000-year culture. The Book of Songs is a treasure in this splendid culture. I don't have that high artistic conception, but I'm really fascinated by the Book of Songs.
Whenever you open it, you will always be deeply attracted by its simple words, rich imagination and unrestrained emotions. When we are in a fast-paced modern life, we can occasionally go back and cross the long river of history, feel the past events of the Western Zhou Dynasty and the Spring and Autumn Period, and appreciate the infinite charm of The Book of Songs and the wisdom of the sages for thousands of years.
5. Combine a poem in The Book of Songs and write a composition on the Youzhou rostrum. In front of me are the lost years. Behind me, where are the future generations? .
Only the boundless universe, boundless, can't stop the tears full of sadness. Interpretation: Youzhoutai: Jibei Building, also known as Qiu Ji and Yantai, was built by the legendary Yan Zhaowang in Huang Jintai for recruiting talents.
Youzhou, the capital of the ancient Yan State in Tang Dynasty, is located in Daxing County, southwest of Beijing. Ancient people: refers to ancient wise men and sages, such as Yan Zhaowang and Le Yi.
This sentence shows the poet's infinite yearning for the encounter between monarch and minister in history and the achievement of a career. Newcomer: refers to the wise men and sages of later generations.
This sentence shows the poet's infinite sadness that life is limited and he can't see the "newcomers". Youyou: In the long run, it seems endless.
Zhu Churan: A sad face. Snuff: tears.
When will the wise master of later generations wait until he has never seen the sages of the previous generation? Thinking of the infinite universe, I deeply feel that life is too short, mourning alone, tears streaming down my face! Translation 2: Recalling the history, I missed the opportunity to know those ancient strong lords who longed for wisdom; Looking forward to the future, I am more worried that I will not have an enlightened monarch. When I think of the vastness and eternity of every day, I lament the brevity and insignificance of life.