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Topic: Rewriting the ancient poem Qiu Si (students practice).
Zhang Ji was born in poverty. When I was a child, my family was poor and far from my hometown. By the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had already experienced a wandering life. Running around all the year round, wandering in a foreign land.
On a silent night, Zhang Ji finished his dinner and sat in the small yard enjoying the bright moonlight. A full moon hangs high in the sky, adding infinite vitality to the hidden earth.
He was watching when suddenly an autumn wind blew and Zhang Ji was shivering with cold. He had to go back to his room and find an old cotton-padded jacket sewn by his mother from the closet when he left.
He looked at the cotton-padded jacket and remembered his elderly mother, so he picked up a brush and wrote on the paper: How are you, mother? It's getting cold, so you should put on more clothes to avoid catching cold. Please don't worry about me, I'm fine. How is the family harvest this year? ..... seems to have a lot to say, but I don't know where to start.
The next day, as soon as the sun climbed the hillside, Zhang Ji handed the letter to Wang San.
When Wang San was about to say goodbye to him, Zhang Ji took the letter back, opened it and checked it again and again. He added: you should live a happy life every day, don't be unhappy for a little thing ... After writing these, Zhang Ji gave the letter to Wang San, and Wang San rode away.
Zhang Ji looked at Wang San, who was far away, and he was both happy and sad. Happily, my mother can read her letter; Sadly, I don't know when I can return to my hometown.
How to rewrite this ancient poem of Qiu Si into a short story?
Unconsciously, the heat of summer has quietly gone away, and the rustling autumn wind sometimes permeates the streets and alleys of Luoyang City. 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. This is the image of an old mother, the voice of an ignorant little son, and his wife's exhortation before she 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. After finding the sender, Zhang Ji handed the letter in both hands and repeatedly told him, "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. ...
Change the ancient poem Qiu Si into a short story, (500 words)'
The poet Zhang Ji left his hometown and came to Luoyang City.
Time flies, and in a blink of an eye, Miss Qiu came to the world, and the leaves turned yellow and fell one after another. The cold wind bursts, making people feel extremely sad and sad. Zhang Ji couldn't help feeling his thoughts. He misses his hometown and those folks, relatives and friends.
Zhang Ji wants to see his family and stay in his hometown, but there is nothing he can do. He can only write a letter from home to bless his relatives: I wish my parents "a long life and happiness like the East China Sea". Unfortunately, there are too many things to say to the families of the villagers. What if this is his last contact with his relatives? If this letter doesn't make it clear, what do you want to express? then what At this moment, Zhang Ji's heart is so complicated and contradictory.
Whenever the messenger leaves, he opens the envelope for fear that he has written something unpleasant to make his parents worry about himself and whether he will write less. Sometimes even if he can't find the mistake, he refuses to post the letter. Although every time this happens, the bright eyes of the messenger will be eclipsed, but he also knows the mood of Zhang Ji's poet in an instant.
In this way, Zhang Ji scanned the letter repeatedly with sharp eyes, which produced a poem describing contradictions and complex psychology. "I can't talk about repeated fears in a hurry, and pedestrians are about to open it."
Rewrite Qiu Si into a short story.
A long time ago, there was a poet named Zhang Ji in the Tang Dynasty. Because of his erudition, he won the highest prize. Later, because of his outstanding performance, he was highly valued by the emperor. One day, the emperor ordered him to go to Luoyang City to do something important. Zhang Ji had to leave his hometown, his old mother and his virtuous, young and beautiful wife. When she left, the old mother said with tears in her face, "Son, you should come back early." His wife said, "Xianggong, go early and come back early." Zhang Ji reluctantly stepped onto the carriage. He looked back at his old mother and parents until they were out of sight.
Time flies, the sun and the moon fly like a shuttle. Days pass like running water. One day two months later, Zhang Ji went out for a walk. He walked in the field, enjoying the beautiful and harmonious scene, and a cool autumn wind blew, which made him miss his hometown. So he hurried back to the inn where Luoyang stayed and wanted to write a letter to his relatives far away in his hometown. When I mentioned the pen, a thousand words came to my mind, and I didn't know where to start at the moment. I've tidied up my thoughts a little. He wrote nine pieces of paper in one breath. He wrote about his joys and sorrows, and all aspects of his situation and situation since he left home.
After sealing the letter, he gave it to the messenger. When the messenger turned to leave, he was afraid that the letter he had written in a hurry would be omitted. He added, "Would you please wait a little longer and let me read my letter again?" The messenger returned the letter to Zhang Ji. So he opened the sealed letter and looked at it. After reading it, he took a long breath. Tidy up the envelope and give it to the messenger. After the messenger left, he sang loudly:
Look at the autumn wind in Luoyang,
I want to write a meaningful letter to my family.
I can't talk about it in a hurry
Pedestrians came and opened again.
Rewrite the ancient poem Qiu Si into a short story,
Rewrite the ancient poem Qiu Si into a short story. Example: Long, long ago, there was a poet named Zhang Ji in the Tang Dynasty. Because of his erudition, he won the highest prize. Later, because of his outstanding performance, he was highly valued by the emperor. One day, the emperor ordered him to go to Luoyang City to do something important. Zhang Ji had to leave his hometown, his old mother and his virtuous, young and beautiful wife. When she left, the old mother said with tears in her face, "Son, you should come back early." His wife said, "Xianggong, go early and come back early." Zhang Ji reluctantly stepped onto the carriage. He looked back at his old mother and parents until they were out of sight.
Time flies, the sun and the moon fly like a shuttle. Days pass like running water. One day two months later, Zhang Ji went out for a walk. He walked in the field, enjoying the beautiful and harmonious scene, and a cool autumn wind blew, which made him miss his hometown. So he hurried back to the inn where Luoyang stayed and wanted to write a letter to his relatives far away in his hometown. When I mentioned the pen, a thousand words came to my mind, and I didn't know where to start at the moment. I've tidied up my thoughts a little. He wrote nine pieces of paper in one breath. He wrote about his joys and sorrows, and all aspects of his situation and situation since he left home.
After sealing the letter, he gave it to the messenger. When the messenger turned to leave, he was afraid that the letter he had written in a hurry would be omitted. He added, "Would you please wait a little longer and let me read my letter again?" The messenger returned the letter to Zhang Ji. So he opened the sealed letter and looked at it. After reading it, he took a long breath. Tidy up the envelope and give it to the messenger. After the messenger left, he sang loudly:
Look at the autumn wind in Luoyang,
I want to write a meaningful letter to my family.
I can't talk about it in a hurry
Pedestrians came and opened again.
Qiu Si is a homesick poem by Zhang Ji, a famous poet in Tang Dynasty. This poem expresses the depth of homesickness by describing the feelings before and after writing a letter. It is deep and shallow, and there are twists and turns in tenderness. At first glance, it is just a few words, but it has infinite meaning.
1, original text
Look at the autumn wind in Luoyang,
I want to write a meaningful letter to my family.
I can't talk about it in a hurry
Pedestrians came and opened again.
The annual autumn wind blows into Luoyang city again. Wanderers living in Luoyang want to know what happened to their relatives in their hometown.
Write a letter from home to greet peace. There are so many things to say and I don't know where to start.
The letter has been written, but I'm afraid I haven't finished what I want to say in a hurry;
When the messenger set out, he opened the envelope and returned it to him.
3. Appreciate the reason why the first sentence explains "The Writer's Book" ("Looking at the Autumn Wind"), saying that staying in Luoyang City and watching the autumn wind. Plain narrative, not exaggerated, but meaningful. The autumn wind is invisible, audible, tangible and tangible, but it seems invisible. However, just as the earth can be dyed green and bring boundless spring colors, the cold air contained in the autumn wind can also make the leaves of trees turn yellow and the flowers wither, bringing a wide range of autumn colors, autumn capacity and autumn state to nature and human beings. It is invisible, but it can be seen everywhere. A wanderer in a foreign land, seeing all these bleak and crumbling scenes, will inevitably arouse the loneliness of staying in a foreign land and cause long-term thoughts of his hometown and relatives. This plain and meaningful word "see" gives readers rich hints and associations.
The second sentence is followed by "look at the autumn wind" and the word "think" is written on the front. Hans Zhang in the Jin Dynasty "thought of Wuzhong leek, soup, and lived because of the autumn wind, saying,' Life is expensive but you don't want it. Why do you stay thousands of miles and become famous?' Then I rode home (Biography of Hans Zhang in the Book of Jin). Zhang Jizu was born in Wujun and now lives in Luoyang. The situation is similar to that of Hans Zhang. When he was homesick, he thought about "Looking at the Autumn Wind", which may be associated with the story of Hans Zhang. However, due to various unspecified reasons, Hans Zhang could not "drive home" and had to write home to express his homesickness. This makes the homesickness already deep and strong, and adds the disappointment of wanting to return, and the thoughts become more complicated. The word "desire" is closely related to "watching the autumn wind". The word "desire" is quite interesting. It turns out that the poet's mood is calm, like a clear water. The autumn wind blew his emotional ripples. It expresses the poet's thoughts and modality when laying paper and stretching his pen: I have mixed feelings in my heart, and I feel that I have something to pour out, but I don't know where to start or how to express it at the moment. The writing is fluent, but at the end of the sentence, the word "heavy meaning" suddenly came back, just like calligraphy. Therefore, the poet's feelings here are not downstream, but deeper. This technology, seemingly ordinary, is actually extremely high. The poet is homesick for the autumn wind and wants to write a book. There are thousands of words, and I don't know where to start. "Meaning is important", but using virtual reality. Liu Yuxi said in "Song of the Knife Ring": "Today, facing each other, the pulse is full of gravity." "Ten thousand centers of gravity" and "ten thousand meanings" are extremely complicated thoughts and feelings. Every reader with life experience can understand how much care there is. How to write this book because it is full of meaning? Did you write it? The author didn't make it clear for the reader to imagine, which is endless and thought-provoking.
Three or four sentences, leaving aside the specific process and content of writing letters, just cut out a detail when the letter at home is about to be sent out-"I can't talk about it in a hurry, and pedestrians have to open it again." The poet felt unable to write because of his "heavy meaning", and he was too busy to think about it because of the messages from passers-by. His deep and rich feelings and unspeakable contradictions were "urged", making this letter containing thousands of words almost "I tried to read your reminder, but the ink was too weak" (Li Shangyin's Four Untitled Poems). The book is sealed, as if it had been said; But when passers-by were about to hit the road, they suddenly felt that they were in a hurry just now, for fear of missing anything important in the letter, so they hurriedly opened the envelope. The word "fear again" describes psychological nuances. This "imminent opening" action is not so much to add a few words that I haven't had time to say, but rather to verify my doubts and concerns. The results of Kaifeng test may prove that this kind of worry is purely neurotic. The uncertainty of this "fear" actually prompted the poet to make the decision of "unsealing again" without thinking, which shows that he attaches great importance to this "meaningful" letter from home and deeply misses his loved ones-there are thousands of words, for fear of missing a sentence. If you really think that the poet has remembered something and added something, it will turn the vivid details full of poetry into a dull record. The reason why this detail is pregnant and chewy is precisely because it is produced on the psychological basis of "doubt" rather than "necessity". The phenomenon of "pedestrians come and go" in life is not all typical and worth writing in poetry. Only when it is associated with a specific background and a specific psychological state can it show its typical significance. Therefore, in the case of "looking at the autumn wind", "meaningful" and "fearful", writing the details of "about to start" itself includes refining and typifying life materials, rather than simply describing life. Wang Anshi commented on the poem, saying that "it seems to be the most extraordinary, easy but difficult to achieve" ("On Zhang Shi"), which is a comment that has won the essence of excellent work and bitterness. This poem, which is extremely natural, extremely plain and as natural as life itself, seems to be a vivid example of Wang Anshi's meticulous comments.
The whole poem is coherent, clear, simple and truly expresses the wandering mentality. In feudal society, people who have lived in different places for a long time often have similar experiences. This very ordinary little thing, very ordinary subject matter, once refined by the poet, has a representative significance. Later generations often read it and often sigh with empathy. The so-called empathy, empathy.
4. Author's brief introduction: Zhang Ji (about 767 ~ 830), a poet in the Tang Dynasty, was born in Wu Jun (now Suzhou, Jiangsu) and grew up in Hezhou (now Hexian, Anhui), and was called "Zhang Shuibu" and "Zhang Yesi". Zhang Jiyu's poems about Yuefu are as famous as Wang Jian's, and he is also called "Zhang Wang Yuefu". Some of his five-character poems and modern poems are also very meaningful. Famous poems include "Complaining for Women", "Picking Lotus Songs" and "Jiangnan Songs".
Rewrite the ancient poem Qiu Si into a short story.
Unconsciously, the heat of summer has quietly gone away, and the rustling autumn wind sometimes permeates the streets of Luoyang City. 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. This is the image of an old mother, the voice of an ignorant little son, and his wife's exhortation before she 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. After finding the sender, Zhang Ji handed the letter in both hands and repeatedly told him, "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. ...
Change the poem Qiu Si into a 350-word short story.
Zhang Ji was born in poverty. When I was a child, my family was poor and far from my hometown. By the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had already experienced a wandering life. Running around all the year round, wandering in a foreign land.
On a silent night, Zhang Ji finished his dinner and sat in the small yard enjoying the bright moonlight. A full moon hangs high in the sky, adding infinite vitality to the hidden earth.
He was watching when suddenly an autumn wind blew and Zhang Ji was shivering with cold. He had to go back to his room and find an old cotton-padded jacket sewn by his mother from the closet when he left.
He looked at the cotton-padded jacket and remembered his elderly mother, so he picked up a brush and wrote on the paper: How are you, mother? It's getting cold, so you should put on more clothes to avoid catching cold. Please don't worry about me, I'm fine. How is the family harvest this year? ..... seems to have a lot to say, but I don't know where to start.
The next day, as soon as the sun climbed the hillside, Zhang Ji handed the letter to the messenger.
When the messenger was about to say goodbye to him, Zhang Ji took the letter back, opened it and checked it again and again. He added: You should be happy every day, don't be unhappy for a little thing ... After writing this letter, Zhang Ji gave it to the messenger, and the messenger rode away at a gallop.
Zhang Ji looked at the messenger in the distance, and he was both happy and sad. Happily, my mother can read her letter; Sadly, I don't know when I can return to my hometown.
Rewrite Qiu Si's ancient poems into a story. About 500 words.
In the autumn evening, the poet Zhang Ji went to his friend's door without eating anything after dinner. He went up and knocked on the door several times, and a very boy poked his head out: "Who are you looking for?" Zhang Ji quickly said, "Excuse me, is your master at home?" "Unfortunately, master went back to his hometown to see relatives yesterday and won't be back until next month. Please go back. " Say that finish, extremely closed the door, leaving Zhang Ji standing in front of the door.
A chilly autumn wind blew, bringing a chill. Zhang Ji turned around and suddenly heard a child calling, "Mom, look, geese!" " "The poet looked up and saw a flock of geese flying across the sky. Zhang Ji can't help thinking that he lives in Luoyang and never comes back all the year round. This wild goose will come back next year. When will it go back to its hometown? At this time, there was no one in the street, only the rustling of leaves in the wind. The afterglow of the sunset fell on him, and the lotus in the pond had long since disappeared. Insects and birds used to sing, but now they have disappeared. ...
When he got home, it suddenly occurred to Zhang Ji that although he could not return to his hometown, he could write letters. However, I don't know where to start when I mention a thousand words. In the poet's mind, there are always scenes of parting in those days. I hate that I was young and left my mother without looking back, but I don't know when I will see you again ... When I thought of this, the poet felt tears in his eyes, and all his feelings welled up like spring water at one time, and the poet sent all his thoughts in these paragraphs.
Finally, after writing the letter, Zhang Ji carefully read it dozens of times for fear that his homesickness could not be fully expressed. Suddenly I heard the night watchman strike three times, and it was the third night. The poet reluctantly put down the letter, sealed it, and slept together, but he couldn't sleep anymore. How he wishes his family could read this letter soon!
In the morning, the poet got up early and waited at the door with a letter. I don't know when, there was the sound of hooves around the corner. "Come, come!" The poet was very excited. I saw the boy who delivered the letter jump off his horse and took the letter and said, "Don't worry, I will definitely send it!" " "Say that finish, I was about to get on the horse when I suddenly heard a shout from behind:" Please stay! " He quickly turned around and asked, "What happened to the old man?" "I ... I want to read this letter again." The young man hesitated and handed the letter to the poet. The poet quickly opened the letter, examined it carefully, sealed it and gave it to the young man. The young man mounted his horse and drove off at a gallop. The poet stood there with tears in his eyes ... The autumn wind blew away his tears, drop by drop. ...
Hope to adopt! ! ! !