Qing Dynasty: Jiang Shiquan
I love my son endlessly, and I'm glad to go home.
Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains.
If you encounter pity, you will ask for it.
I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh.
2. Huangjiadong
Tang Dynasty: Li He
The sound of birds wrinkling sand promotes promotion, and the four-foot angle bows bluestone cymbals.
The sound of the black flag is like a three-point bronze drum, and the masterpiece is like an ape singing and shaking an arrow.
Colored towels are wrapped in a half-oblique way, and the heads of the streams are clustered with kudzuvine flowers.
White catfish cry at night in the fog of the mountain pond, and bamboo snakes fly at the golden sands.
Idle driving bamboo horse slow return, loyalist suicide RongZhou if.
3. Huanxisha, deep red and warm to see the fish.
Song Dynasty: Su Shi
Fish are seen in the dark red warm sun, even the streams are green and black, and birds are hidden in the dusk. Huang Tong and Bai Lao are together.
Although elk are not used to meeting people, apes don't have to shout when they hear the news. The theory of returning home and picking mulberry grains.
4. Go home (Zhao Wei's poem)
Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
The child held hands and asked, why don't you come back? * * * Who is fighting for time to win sideburns?
Beginning of autumn came home from Beijing.
Tang Dynasty: Li Ying
Look at the bean curd when the autumn hedge falls, and the bamboo door will cross the water bank. Song Zhai should be clear when it rains.
The solitary lamp in the meditation room is against the crimson yarn. All day long, you are like a mouse, lazy at the snake.
Are there bass near Xijiang River? Hans Zhang didn't get home until he went home by boat.
2. What are the poems that express "Happy trip home"? 1. Returning home at the end of the year/at the end of the year: Jiang Shiquan loves his son endlessly and is happy to return to his hometown.
Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains. If you encounter pity, you will ask for it.
I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh. 2. Huangjiadong Tang Dynasty: Li Heque stepped on the sand to promote the sound, and the four-foot bow bluestone.
The sound of the black flag is like a three-point bronze drum, and the masterpiece is like an ape singing and shaking an arrow. Colored towels are wrapped in a half-oblique way, and the heads of the streams are clustered with kudzuvine flowers.
White catfish cry at night in the fog of the mountain pond, and bamboo snakes fly at the golden sands. Idle driving bamboo horse slow return, loyalist suicide RongZhou if.
3. Huanxisha, see the fish deep red and warm in Sun Song: Su Shi saw the fish deep red and warm in the sun, and the stream was dark in the evening. Huang Tong and Bai Lao are together.
Although elk are not used to meeting people, apes don't have to shout when they hear the news. The theory of returning home and picking mulberry grains.
4. Going home (Zhao Weishi) Tang Dynasty: Du Mu's son took clothes and asked why he had been late. * * * Who is fighting for time to win sideburns?
5. beginning of autumn returned from Beijing in the Tang Dynasty: Li Yingli looked at autumn tofu, and the bamboo gate was the waterfront. It's raining in Song House, it should be clear, and the lonely lamp in the Buddhist room is against the crimson yarn.
All day long, you are like a mouse, lazy at the snake. Are there bass near Xijiang River? Hans Zhang didn't get home until he went home by boat.
Modern Poetry on the Way Home The sun has set.
But it's still there-
Walking on the familiar dirt road in a hurry,
The sea breeze still lives on the island,
I feel a little cold, but it's warm.
The pace of three spans in one second, yearning.
There is a familiar smell of fish sauce in the air.
With the sound of cooking,
I think this is a good time,
The villagers should return home with a full load.
I accidentally kicked a few stones,
Busy painting many trees,
In my sense of taste,
Full of familiar local flavor.
In a hurry, there is no time to taste.
I saw the lights at home,
therefore
I can't wait to run over there. ...
4. Poems about "Going Home" Going Home
Ahead, home is ahead.
In front, there is a mother's persistent watch.
Ahead, is my father's generous chest.
Home is just ahead (imagination on the way home)
At the foot, the road is very confused.
In my heart, dark clouds are floating.
On the shoulders, heavy responsibilities have been strengthened.
Love is really hesitant (the pressure of parents' high expectations)
In spring, you put on light clothes for me.
In summer, you keep out the sun for me.
In autumn, you sow hope for me.
In winter, you weave dreams for me (parents work hard)
Me? What should I do?
Is to hide in a dream
Or embrace melancholy?
Or spray blood (ambivalence)
On the horizon, the sunset hangs.
In the tree, tired birds are sleeping.
Lying on the ground, walking in confusion.
Think of my parents as soon as possible (eager to go home)
It's a long way home.
Horizon? In the tree?
On the ground? Atrium?
Where is this mood hidden? (Unknown secrets, growing pains)
5. The poem about "going home" goes home in front, home is in front, there is a mother's persistent watch in front, there is a father's generous chest home in front, just in front (imagination on the way home), the road is very confused, heavy responsibility floats on the shoulders, and love is strengthening. Really hesitant (pressure from parents with high expectations). In spring, you covered me with light summer, and you covered me with hot sun and autumn. What do you do? You weave dreams for me (parents work hard). How can I hide in the dreamland or embrace melancholy or blood gushing (ambivalence), hang on the sunset tree, sleep on the tired bird ground, walk in confusion and worry about my parents' desire to go home as soon as possible? In the tree? On the ground? Atrium? Where is this emotion hidden? Unknown secrets, growing pains.
6. The beautiful prose about the memories of returning home comes from thousands of years ago, passing by tang style Song Yun and Qingming Yu Yan, passing by Chunhua Qiuyue and passing by you. Deeply entangled in everything in the world, can not get rid of. Today's is no different from yesterday's, and there is no change in the past and present.
What kind of tea once floated on the tip of a leaf covered with morning dew? The ups and downs in the cup, the erratic breeze blowing, the clear green and the rich water fragrance. How many predestinations can shallow celadon hold, and how many people are intoxicated in the prosperous and beautiful images. And I only want to sleep by your side until the prosperity is gone and I see dazzling shadows and clear water. Looking back, the aroma of the tea is still far away, the leaves are stretched and the lines are clearly visible. Maybe this wind misses you, but it has been in Ceng Zui for thousands of years.
The faint night wind rises, and the fragrance dyes the strings. Peach blossoms outside the wall, the night wind sends fragrance, and you drink alone with the moon. Whose youth is a figure in the independent door? This month, the piano is clanking, which one is missing. On the willow tip in the moon, the wind blows through the fingertips, making this petal fall off from the shoulder. Have you ever screwed up your time?
I also remembered the oiled paper umbrella decorated with flowers. Has anyone ever passed an alley with an umbrella in his hand and left it in the street? The wind passed through the winding alley and blew through the thin umbrella, as if it were still touching someone's residual temperature. Have young strangers ever found Iraqis, and have girls sniffing their childhood ever found lovers? The deep feeling in this world has long been seen through. Listen to the wind and the bells. Who do you want to talk to?
The dew is heavy, the wind is low and the fallen flowers are heavy. Through the forest, your back is deeply imprinted in your soul. How can you find a place where the glitz of the world and the noise of the world can play with you in black and white, sing poems and paint? You want to taste the world of mortals in the six major divisions in the wheel of karma, but I can't change a trace of your concern when I look back. I hope there are several people in this world who can pair up with you. Even if the clouds turn to wax ash, you still have to hold hands.
Chang 'an on the paper that year, the endless bluestone, the wind blowing across the shore, is the ferry that left. There is still a trace of ink in the wind, but I can't help it if I want to stay in my nose. I can't stop you and I can't stop you. I only think of the mountain occasionally. You can think of the picturesque Chang 'an, the ferry in the rain, the quaint eaves under the tiles, and her who misses you day and night.
The wind will take away my thoughts, and I hope my affection will not decrease.
Have you seriously thought about ups and downs? People have been looking for monks to spend their lives. Did the string of precipitated beads and whispered scriptures ever cross this muddy river? We have been trying to find a good medicine for Du Jie. If I can, I would like to exchange my prosperity for your smile. I just want you to cross me and leave a forgotten river in your life.
Through the screen window, the storyteller sang all kinds of joys and sorrows. The rainy night is cool, and the wind blows on your face, reminding you whether it can remain the same after a long time, and whether the appearance in memory can change how much you miss. Can someone pick up your sadness over the years? I will look back at the place where you may appear thousands of miles away. Although it has come and gone without a trace, I am most attached to Chang' an with you.
When the wind blows over the courtyard, I look for you in the misty rain south of the Yangtze River and wait for you in the small bridge and flowing water, but I can't escape fate after all. Miss the plain paper umbrella in your hand, the green bamboo flute, and even miss the breeze passing by you. The figure sitting by the window, the lonely figure is the biggest attachment in this life. I know where you are, but I can't find you. This is destiny.
A breeze can solve problems, but only persistence is the most thoughtful. Actually, I've thought about it. If there is an afterlife, be the wind you miss most and cover your whole life.
7. The Book of Songs describes how I feel if I am a soldier on my way home. The war is long, life is hard, and it is painful to have a home for a long time. This poem is a true portrayal of a soldier on the border for a long time, hungry and cold on his way home.
At the beginning of the poem, it says, "Take Wei, take Wei, and Wei will stop." This is a common method of "Xing" in the Book of Songs, that is, take Wei to make the soldiers guarding the border miss their hometown. However, the "xing" here is not completely unrelated to border defense. This also reveals the long border years and the growth process of Miao Wei.
The second and third chapters describe the process of Osmunda japonica from germination to maturity, which appears in the eyes of soldiers guarding the border year after year, vividly describing the long years of soldiers guarding the border, and will naturally cause homesickness with the passage of time.
The fourth and fifth chapters depict the lineup of Zhou's army, which sets off the tension and hardships of life during wartime.
The sixth chapter wrote the sad mood of recalling the past and the present on the way home. "I left yesterday, willow, a.. Today, I feel that it is raining, and I write about the complex mood of soldiers leaving home in spring and returning in winter. " I left yesterday, Willo Yiyi. Today, I think it's raining, and I write about the complicated feelings of soldiers leaving home in spring and returning in winter.
The last four sentences are written directly about the hardships on the way home, which are in harmony with the hard life in the frontier, further showing the sadness in the hearts of soldiers. The spiritual call of "I don't know my sadness" at the end pushes the sad atmosphere of the whole poem to a climax, which has a shocking artistic effect.