Poetry is a brilliant treasure in the history of literature, and in my opinion, it is also my good friend on the road of life.
Poetry is a friend of people, from the bright line at the foot of the bed when I was a child to the hope that people will live a long life when they grow up. Poetry has accompanied us through spring, summer, autumn and winter, watched us grow and enriched our spiritual world. Who in China can't read one or two ancient poems? In the poem, we can see the sweaty faces of the soldiers who went to war, the sad wife waiting for her husband to return at home, the peach blossom garden that didn't pick up the road at night and didn't close the door, and the colorful flowers in the east.
Poetry is an unchangeable history. Every time I see a babbling child reading an ancient poem, I feel inexplicably moved. A poem that has been circulating for hundreds of years was recited again in a child's mouth. What a shocking thing. Ancient poetry records the iron horse of the Three Kingdoms: rivers and mountains through the ages, heroes are nowhere to be found, and Sun Zhongmou is there; It's about being immersed in love: I think of Gong Jin, Xiao Qiao's first marriage, dashing, feather fan and black silk scarf. When she was talking and laughing, she disappeared, so she wandered in her hometown and was affectionate in Ying Xiao Wo, in the early days of her life. It carries the hero's lament: if the mountain is pulled up, the world will be angry, and if it is unfavorable, it will not die, and if it does not die, it will be helpless. On the west side of the base is the river of no return, an eternal romantic figure. A man in a blue sage like style stood at the head of the river, chanting lofty sentiments and ambitions. I looked up and saw the boundless sky, rushing water and rolling history, which was thrilling.
There are Golden House, Yan Ruyu, Millet, my dream and my life in the poem.