Tomb-Sweeping Day's Lyric Prose: Rains in Qingming Festival
"There are many rains during the Qingming period, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls." The drizzle fell naughtily from the sky with a slight cold wind.
The clear rain is so fine, like ox hair, like needles, like filaments. Sometimes it is woven densely, like a colorless silk; Sometimes it falls straight, like a colorless and transparent parachute.
Qingming rain is so soft, it is like a quiet flowing spring, gently moistening the earth. It is also like a warm hand, gently stroking leaves, grass and flowers, which is called "moistening things silently"
Qingming rain is so happy, just like a * *, wearing a transparent veil and dancing lightly. Another example is the same naughty child, jumping in the rain and turning into a glittering and translucent splash. After a while, the streets were dripping with water like shiny satin.
Qingming rain, so naughty, jumped on the roof for a while and blossomed silver flowers; After a while, I jumped into the water by the side of the road and splashed with small blisters; Then it landed on the leaves, like crystal pearls.
Clear rain, like a piano master, plucked the strings of spring, played the joy of spring and brought vitality to the earth.
Tomb-Sweeping Day's Lyric Prose: Tomb-Sweeping Day's Mourning.
Mourning day, drizzle like tears; Pedestrians on the road want to die. Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy shocked Xinghua Village.
The sky is gloomy, and the light rain falls on the earth like a wisp of silk, weaving endless green land and endless green carpet. The whole land is green and the grave is quiet. Pines and cypresses on both sides are spreading green branches and leaves, greedily sucking the spring rain and dew, guarding the grave. Although there are beautiful scenery and flowers everywhere,
Mom, dad and several relatives set candles, incense tables, snacks and fruits for sacrifice. Dad also set off firecrackers and fireworks beside the tomb. Mother also silently lit a bag of paper money in a yellow bag, and suddenly it was blazing. I gently touched grandpa's tombstone and remembered the rice and soup that grandpa's rough big hand brought me. Kind eyes pay attention to my growth every day, and my heart is like a five-flavor bottle. I felt sore all over, tears swirled in my eyes, and finally I cried and let them flow down!
I silently said to my grandfather in my heart, "Grandpa, rest in peace!" " I will definitely study hard. Fulfill your expectations of me and serve my country. "
Tomb-Sweeping Day's lyric prose: poetic and clear.
When I was a child, I was a very naughty child and often played with my great-grandfather in his 70 s.
Every year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I am very happy, because I can go to sweep the grave, but sweeping the grave is not my destination, but the red envelope on the banquet after sweeping the grave is my ultimate goal, hee hee!
Grave-sweeping is often the most boring, but with my great grandfather's company, it is no longer boring. It rained in Mao Mao for several years, and my great-grandfather must test my ancient poem: It rained in succession during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road wanted to die. Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village. A few years ago, when the weather was fine, his old man took an examination of another ancient poem of mine: "A princesa, a crow with a double bun, learned evil spirits by flying butterflies. The east wind is also clear, and birds and flowers are everywhere. " When he arrives at the cemetery, he will also read another poem of mine: "It is against the principle to temporarily enjoy sightseeing in Luopu Tang Lin at dusk in spring. Don't talk about scenery, get drunk before the next flower. " I don't know what the special meaning is, but Lang Lang's back is as smooth as running water. At this time, my great-grandfather will happily say, "The grandson is really good and smart." He praised me to his younger generation and my elders, and always made me the focus of attention. My great-grandfather greatly satisfied my vanity.
When I was ten years old, my great-grandfather had a bad cough and was bedridden. One year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, he suddenly stopped me and asked me to recite Qingming ancient poems. He leaned back on the bed, squinting, waiting for me to talk. I don't know when there were more people in the room, and even my father, who was seldom at home on weekdays, came. I vaguely felt bad, but I recited the poem to life. Great-grandfather nodded with satisfaction and tried to open his eyes and look at me carefully. Dad took me out.
Soon, my great-grandfather died of illness. I just realized that this is the most serious disease. My great-grandfather finally listened to me recite the three Qingming poems he taught me before his death and passed away contentedly. Later, I also understood that in the eyes of my great grandfather, Qingming is not only a festival full of sadness, but also a good day for sightseeing and a poetic festival.
This year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, my father and I went to visit my great grandfather's grave. I recited these three ancient poems aloud to comfort his old man's life. We live poetically.