Has everyone written prose in life, work and study? Prose in a narrow sense refers to a literary genre parallel to poetry, novels, and dramas. How to write a prose that is “dispersed in form but not separated in spirit”? The following is the prose about snowflakes that I have collected for everyone. You are welcome to share it.
There are many voices, you are here! The dashing figure breaks through the dawn clouds, and is light and jade-like;
Fluttering and flying, you are here! The crystal feather coat carries the cold fragrance of the morning, dancing gracefully;
Gentle and gentle, you are here! Liubo's blue eyes caressed the new year's hair, and kissed the pearls on the ground.
Quietly, you are here! The fragrant breath stirs up the dream of looking forward to the rain, leaving a mark on the lips.
Looking forward to you! On days when strong winds blow across the plains. At that time, my eyes looking at the clouds were so dry that there was no trace of moist autumn waves, and the tears were frozen into stiff ice. Watching the strong wind blowing the dead branches in front of the window, my heart was cracked with deep and shallow wrinkles. I chanted eagerly for the rain, looking forward to how the beams of the winter sun would spread out and magically turn into thousands of wisps of snow, wash away the dust in the fields, and return to this world a bit of light smoke, a bit of clear water, and a bit of tranquility. Su Su on Silver Mountain. A few green clouds cover the sky, giving this ancient city in the north an affectionate gift. Is it destined by God that the most beautiful and beloved people in this world will have to go through the slow process of "coming out after being called upon"? A few days before the beginning of winter, several thunders rang over the city, and the clouds, rain, and snow disappeared without a trace like the Wei Bridge. Is it true that your elegant demeanor in plain clothes is like "it's always too late to sleep well, and it's inappropriate to feel sorry for yourself"? Are you really so aloof and arrogant that you "cannot dream of the same thing as pear blossoms"? Are you really tired of the wild mountains and plains in the north and fall in love with the "moon and river breeze" in the south? But this morning, when I stood by the window and felt the comfort, comfort, and comfort of the snow falling in front of my eyes, I still couldn't hide the long-lost joy. After all, you still came, although it was a little late, but you still came all the way tenderly. Therefore, my chest immediately swelled with the joy of "Thousands of carts of wheat on the snowy clear river, but it makes me full and sad." It was as if the greed of green seedlings sucking milk could be heard in my ears, as if the morning light on the plateau was curling up. The snow embellishes the scenery with the grace of "green sleeves and wind". For a time, the worries of vegetables "like osmanthus", firewood and rice like pearls, and soaring prices suddenly disappeared. Instead, the "snow" moistened the spring moon, making it a little more abundant, and making the shacks and alleys no longer melancholy. A kind of eager expectation. It was too late to pick the frost beards in the mirror, and there was no time to take care of the reed flowers in the window. I said to my wife: "Look at the snow." Look at the snow! Look at the charm of the beauty who has stepped on the rhythm of late winter with her dancing shoes, "fluttering like the flowing wind", look at the "graceful face" of the "sincere person who first reaches the truth, undressing the jade pendant to get it", and feel the "endless wind and waves". A good time given by God on the occasion of "Remember Su".
Love you! I love the romantic style of "colorful pink tables, colorful mats and colorful flowers". The wind was carrying the snow into the dreamland of this northern city, and the shadow disappeared, quietly retreating to the mountains of the vast Qinling Mountains to talk to the mist. Nowadays, there is no bitter coldness, no coldness in the sky, only snowflakes quietly in the sky, walking leisurely and gracefully in the streets and alleys. What falls on the shoulders is as soft and gentle as jade; what falls on the cheeks is the softness caressed by plain fingers. The holly that is still green in the cold year has turned white, the willow branches with hanging leaves have turned white, and the long and winding Wei embankment has turned white. Standing on the railing and looking out into the distance, you will see the vastness of "the Taojiang River and the mist of Zhuguzhu, which are not there for a while". A few days ago, a friend arrived from Beijing. When the car that picked her up slowly passed the Wei Bridge, the lake was still rippling with clear waves, wild ducks playing, and groups of green minnows swimming. However, last night, the wind blew across the lake, chiseling out a sky mirror and falling a thick layer of snow. In the past, the island in the middle of the lake where birds gathered, and the mist on the island "walking around the island" are now outlined by snow-colored lines, creating the illusion of "light shaking silver, sea eyes blooming with flowers". There was chaos in the mist, except for the birds, which seemed to have forgotten the cold and sang "chirp" to the lake leisurely. No! What moves me are people, people walking in the snow. Snowflakes whitened the brows and shoulders of the traveler. Maybe it was because the drought had lasted too long, or maybe it was the lingering feeling after a long separation, but no one had the heart to brush off the snow velvet on one shoulder, while one layer of the crystal condensed by the sky melted, and another layer fell on it. oh! On the lakeside square filled with bamboos, there is a touch of emerald green, like a weeping willow in the snow, dancing in the wind; against the silver-covered background, a clump of bright red is like a raging fire in the middle of winter, melting snow and ice. Is it a couple joining hands to dance together, looking forward to spending time alone? Is it the green phoenix, the fire phoenix, flying together, and the flying snow used to make a jade platform? When I got closer, I saw the white hair peeking out from the hood, and the ravine on my forehead where there was no distinction between eyebrow frost and snowflakes. My heart was stirred and my emotions were burned. It was a poem, a soul-stirring chant about life, a pre-Qin prose written in the form of a body on the snow, a kind of ethereal, majestic and long-lasting feeling that "there is no sound in my ears, but my eyes are clean". The waist of the corridor that has passed through the years is lingering. There are so many beauties in the country, all because there are people standing between heaven and earth who "want to compete with God"!
The footprints on the bridge in the south of the Yangtze River where people walk in the snow to look for plum blossoms!
The wax figure of Yuan Chi who guides the country from the north!
The plum and snow lingering on the paper are fighting for spring!
Where is the Yunheng Qinling family and the Languan Zhuma!
Heroes throughout the ages have wept for the snow, sang for the snow, generously composed poems for the snow, and been furious because of the snow, all because the snow embellishes the soul's training.
The snowflakes are floating softly, carrying my confused thoughts. How much melancholy, how much loneliness, how much comfort, all floating in my heart in a chaotic and confusing way. think! What a noble word it was, it illuminated the prehistoric years of this planet so brilliantly, and let us elves who stood up use stones and fire to finally cut the many "others" on this planet who had been with us through thick and thin into civilization. and the two sections of Barbarism, Domination and Slavery. Dance with wolves, confront tigers, and let everything big and small in the world fall at their feet. Perhaps from that time on, civilization was destined to be a journey accompanied by cruelty and loneliness from the beginning. "Thinking is the organ of the heart." Because of our thinking, we are respected by the sages as "the most noble people in the world"; "I think, therefore I am", because of thinking, we feel a kind of sobriety of existence, and we also bear the boundless pressure. pain. Because I am too thoughtful, I always give my life to the splendor of dreams, longing to be able to hold my sword and bow like the full moon, to use the dust and iron clothes to win the famous painting before and after my life; I hope to sacrifice my fortune with the body of a common man. And on the morning when the snow melted, I finally understood that "nothing" is the most eternal enlightenment in this world. The "nothingness" after the snow must be the cleanliness that washes away the dirt, and the indifference of "this place of peace is my hometown".
The snowflakes are soft and fluttering, carrying my tenderness. "Kiss the snow", stick out the tip of your tongue, and let the fragrant jade and smoothness flow into your heart, nourishing the roots of every life, looking forward to Su Zi Dongpo's figure in your eyes. He envied his friend's jade-like handsomeness, and he was lucky enough to meet Rounu, who was gifted with skin as soft as silk. What he gained from the mutual love was the luck of life and the peace and tranquility of his soul. This is also a kind of immersion and contamination! Although I don’t have the grace and grace of a jade tree facing the wind, and I don’t have the youthful beauty of my old age, nor do I have the crisp wine that makes my teeth shine with clear songs, but I do have this snow, this snow that still carries the fragrance of plum blossoms, and it’s a coincidence that flowers can bloom in an instant on this day. snow. Embracing the snow and dreaming, even if there are stars on the temples, I still feel like I am still young after returning from thousands of miles away, smiling, and "a plow of spring rain" has slipped through my heart.