It can be said that it is the most unforgettable birthday in my thirties and the most meaningful birthday I have ever spent in my memory. Many years later, when I think back on that day, I still have a feeling of excitement.
My father graduated from the provincial geological school and was sent back to his hometown as "smelly Laojiu" at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution. My father, who has been humiliated by the rebels for many years, finally hopes to be "liberated" and "combined" into the leadership of the production brigade.
The day when my father was liberated happened to be my birthday. My father thought it was an excellent omen, and he was naturally very happy. So I found bamboo sticks, batter and waste paper left over from writing slogans for the brigade and made me a hexagonal red windmill.
It was a clear autumn day, and the sky was clear and cloudless. There is no wind, not even a breeze.
After my father helped me finish the windmill, it couldn't turn. My father was disappointed to see me, and smiled and said to me, "Silly boy, if you want the windmill to turn, you must learn to run." .
The faster you run, the faster the windmill turns. "After listening to my father's words, it suddenly dawned on me, so I ran excitedly and happily in the wide field in front of the door with a windmill in my hand.
Sure enough, my windmill kept turning because of my running. The windmill turns as fast as I run.
Because of running, because of the windmill that keeps turning, I have experienced a kind of happiness that I have never had before-a kind of happiness of running and turning. I kept running, running.
The windmill in my hand is also spinning rapidly in my tireless running ... In high school, under the influence of a Chinese teacher, I fell in love with literature and dreamed of being admitted to the Chinese Department of Yunnan University, hoping to become a real writer in the future. But fate played a big joke on me. When I graduated from high school, I fell into Sun Shan by two points, but I had no choice but to return to my hometown and the depths of the misty mountains.
From then on, I took the farm tools from my father and started my farming career at sunrise and at sunset. During that time, I felt a loss that I had never felt before. The whole person seems to have changed, silent and decadent all day like a man without soul.
I have completely lost confidence and hope in my future and future in the face of an acre of land allocated by the production team. Always holding a negative attitude of counting day by day, numb your mind with heavy work.
All the literary books and manuscripts were locked in wooden boxes by me. My father saw that I was completely a "old buffalo in the mire, rotten is rotten" attitude towards life, so he said to me, "Son, one can give up everything, such as honor, status, money and so on, but one can't give up hope.
As long as there is hope, you have tomorrow and future. If you give up hope, then you have nothing. "
Father went on meaningfully: "Do you remember one birthday when I was a child, and I made you a windmill?" ..... "After listening to my father's teachings, I was deeply inspired. From that day on, I put all my hopes and dreams into the unremitting "running" of life.
I am running, and the windmill of hope is turning. Ten years later, I finally succeeded-not only published tens of thousands of literary works in nearly a thousand newspapers at home and abroad, but also published my own album.
The road of hope is not smooth, and I may encounter bumps at any time, but I always hold high my windmill and go forward bravely. The windmill in the distance, in the dusk of Sunguping, creaks, creaks, and M evokes hazy memories of childhood.
In all directions, sad grains, withered windmills, ideas of sorting out clouds and withered valleys poured in.
2. Please help me find a poem about Dutch windmills. I don't want articles. The windmill turns the world and listens to its story. Only later, its quiet rotation was artificially raised to the height of labor. This simple machine emerged from the bottom of the old life, relying on the power of the wind to sing some songs without words loudly. It has become common sense that the car will turn as soon as the wind blows, and the rotation of the windmill will also produce new ones. The wind revolves around the old windmill among people. The sound of mills and grains is mixed with the sound of the wind, and water flows everywhere. How similar are these ordinary things to windmills? How close it is to falling in love with windmills and nature. Who installed the windmill on the circular roof? How cheerful is the windmill turning? Invisible power must be the power of the wind. Those windy stations by the sea are watching on the seawall. What? Maybe no one knows about windmills, windmills, windmills, turning to Europe, Holland, and Amsterdam. This gentle turn is several years.
The windmill is in urgent need of turning.
The world pricked up its ears and listened to it.
Just turned around calmly.
Has artificially risen to the height of labor.
This simple machine
Get out of the trough of past life
Rely on the power of the wind
It sings loudly some songs without lyrics.
When the wind blows, the windmill will turn.
This has become common sense.
The same rotation of the windmill
It will also produce new winds.
The old windmill circled among people.
The sound of mills and grains
The sound of folk songs and the sound of the wind
Synthetic water flows everywhere.
Children spend sunflower faces.
These ordinary things
How similar and close to windmills.
Falling in love with windmills is falling in love with nature.
The windmill is spinning.
Who installed it on the dome roof?
How cheerful the windmill is.
That invisible force must be the force of the wind.
Those windmills by the sea
They are standing on the seawall.
Observe what, except perhaps windmills.
No one knows the center of the ocean.
Windmill. The windmill turns and turns.
Go to Europe and Holland.
Move to Amsterdam.
This turn is several years.
4. About a poem, give me the address. Or later, the gentle sunshine sprinkled the windmill on the hillside, counting loneliness. There is a lost child who shuttles between lemongrass and fragrant fields in a golden dream. During the season, a sudden glance at the sunflower garden made the noble sunflower bow its head shyly. When her mind has wings, she can't fly, but the rainbow birds crossing the sky can't cover the falling clouds and flowing water. Ruthlessly took away the colorful memories of falling into Britain and peeled off in tears. Lonely children can't hide their inner confusion. Maybe it's just fate rushing by. When you wave, the clouds on the horizon are still there. Passers-by are always in a hurry, inadvertently, and suddenly look back to understand. At this time, it is the end of the song, the applause at the end is ringing, but you are the only one on the lonely stage.
5. Ask for a poem about the motherland. There seem to be some shabby windmills and snow-capped mountains. Read Liu Ming's poem Windmill. Where I was born, the windmill on South Australia Island is a huge building on the mountain. At first, they were very strange, and soon they became people's favorite. People come to visit everywhere, and wind power generation also provides energy help for the development of this frontline island. These behemoths come from Denmark. I often wonder, if they come from Spain, will Don Quixote follow? What will be the result? Will the devil be defeated? There are so many Spanish knights and German doctors. Can they find rivals in China, or can they sign a contract? But the windmill here is as slender as a virgin. This makes my mind always unable to concentrate, just like a platoon of soldiers, hearing a bunch of whistles and running windmills in disorder. I can't be clumsy and slow any more. I can't be exhausted like a waterwheel. I can't hum. I can't hack I know you can't. You are white, flexible and affectionate. I finally remembered an internet addiction war and a weapon called "nuclear harmony" that I saw here.