Whether in school or in society, everyone knows prose, right? In a narrow sense, prose refers to a literary genre that goes hand in hand with poetry, novel and drama. How to write an essay that is "scattered in form but not scattered in spirit"? The following is my collected essays of Fenglindu for your reference, hoping to help friends in need. Fenglindu Prose 1
Unforgettable barren years, a song of great love resounding in the sky
-Inscription
Fenglindu, what a beautiful name.
a song of Guangling San, then, pulled the hair and touched the temples, and the fingertips of the fine jade brushed the strings and shed tears. At the end of the song, people are scattered, and the world of mortals is sealed.
At the dawn, the shower stopped, the curtain was lightly brushed, and the deep wind blew in. Between the cold and the cold, it seemed to turn into cold smoke in the desert, and the ears were empty. Acura, echoing; Camel bell; Shake. Departure language condenses in the yellow wind, and thoughts ripple in the wind. My mind is empty, like a bright pool, but the rain and tears are falling, and there are melancholy ripples.
the sunset falls into the world of mortals, and the fragrant mash asks the same day. The joy of making love lingers in my heart, and the sorrow of wasting time hangs over my heart. Castle peak remains the same.
the years are fading away, and my feelings are still good. Fate and miss, this unintentional speculation, but things are unpredictable, leaving the pain behind and smelling the fragrance of the court, very comfortable.
I can't help looking forward to the future. Colorful flashes are overflowing with lofty sentiments, and it's hard to pay for my dream. Pursuing a shore, the other side of life. Build your heart into a harbor, or a peaceful place, or a majestic place.
when you are tired, tired and sleepy, you might as well find a corner in the harbor of your heart, sit on the floor and take a little nap. Let the soul get the sublimation it deserves. Here, you can be free and unconstrained, break free from the shackles and fade away from the haze, just as Nanke.
On whether a hero succeeds or fails. Cherish Gong Jin, and praise Lord Wu. The war of monopolizing Jiangdong has not stopped. Zhou Lang's magnanimity is high, and he has both the praise of "the song is wrong and Zhou Lang cares". However, he is narrow-minded and wants to compete with Kong Ming, so he beats his chest and sets foot on it. Arrow sore crisis, can't stand this humiliation, Jin Chuang generate. Fang Fenghua is in his prime, and his account is all white and white, so he feels sad and sorry.
everyone knows that the marquis of Wei, although he set up a grave of suspicion, eventually he got into the daytime. Eyebrows locked in my heart, flat felt and ink studied, throwing at a meal, focusing on the bonfire, the traffic is often difficult to find. When Jieshi overlooks the sea in the east, how can I think of such melancholy? What's the use of melancholy? Everything has a destiny, so why should you be exhausted? It is better to be happy and comfortable, and wake up every day without thinking about last night's hangover.
the whole world is boundless, and it has not stopped. Life is the same, the soul will not betray us. Once upon a time, you passed by the years, but it was just an elbow touch. You didn't pay attention to anything, and everything was frozen in the wind. In a flash, no one knows who, who you are, who I am, and who is who. Suddenly, I found that the world is so simple. When I laugh at vulgarity, it is only because of the great changes in the sea and the agility that it has become so empty. Only the one that can't be dispersed, the silk towel is swaying in the wind humorously.
in that case, if you don't make a cup of fragrant tea, let it drift and gather around you, leaving Wei Bian's three unique skills behind, not waiting to pierce it. There is no hypocrisy, no embarrassment, only openness and sincerity.
On the day of sunset, the dim yellow spilled
Huang Ma's fat, the iron hoof beat the road
the left hand whip, the right hand rein
riding the horse and jade pass, the plank road was boundless
I heard the waterfall falling three hundred miles high, the magnificent mountains and rivers
I heard the faint fragrance of five hundred miles full of sleeves, and Lan Xun Gui Fu
The peak circuit. Light into the
Lanting Preface, carefree travel, study and calligraphy
You Chuntu, Luo Shenfu, the Eight Immortals table
elegant and indifferent, the wild bushes
thin wine and mellow, the fragrant grass
green tea and chrysanthemums are free and unfettered outdoors, raising a glass, and laughing to withdraw from Naihe Bridge < Fenglindu Essays 2
Let's walk into this maple forest hand in hand! Holding a burning maple leaf, looking for the past like broken flowers and fine grass.
remember? On that day of that year, I pushed the sun's unicycle past your house. You are carrying a kettle and sprinkling water on a germinated seed. Long hair flowing down, eyes flowing down, gentle and soft, like two silent waterfalls; Hedge wall, you circled it with twenty birthday candles, covered with roses, and your fingertips were sharp, which broke my heart.
So, there were three hundred and sixty nights. I borrowed the faint starlight and used the imaginary needle to thread the thread of acacia and sew the honey-flowing wound. The eye of the needle in the pore is always dripping with tears, and it always locks day and night together by mistake.
finally, I can't stand the pain of self-restraint. I picked a maple leaf and gave it to you. You read my heart from that round and pointed shape; You read my feelings from that long and slender vein; You read my thoughts from the red and burning colors. Since then, this piece of maple forest has become our common territory.
remember? We built a house with branches and covered it with maple leaf tiles; We moved two stones from the mountain and engraved each other's names; We lit a bonfire and simmered the sunset glow in the western sky; Let's pick up dew and light the crow at dawn ...
Let's walk into this maple forest hand in hand! The squirrel of memory has stored enough fruit for us. As long as we follow the secluded path, we will find a series of moss-covered footprints. Feng Lindu Prose 3
When you first became a breathtaking scenery in my eyes, you were a melancholy little white dove, dragging a low pigeon whistle in the boundless forest.
Perhaps it was predestined in the past life that the warm pavilion of our little dream stretched out the winding mountain path at the same time. One end of the trail is tied to the splendor of the outside world, the other end is tied to our confusion, and the middle section is twisted into a thin line by the grandeur of the mountain, so thin that even a small punctuation cannot be produced at all.
is a meaningful song, and every note, whether slow or strong, vibrates every fragile nerve. In the long wooden corridor, our frequent footsteps constantly knock the peace of every day.
In the flower-like season, we stood in the middle of the path. You said that you didn't have the charm of the flying red scarf in my dream. I said that my red scarf was washed away from reality by the tide. Silence is an illusory fog, but it just covers the mimosa on your face. We stayed on the edge of the intoxicating red maple forest, shivering and grazing colorful like deer, but we were afraid to pick the green fruit that was flashing and confusing in the red maple forest.
In the dim twilight *, the Achnatherum splendens in the depths of your memory always produces sporadic flowers to stir up the tide in your heart. Finally, we became thieves and stepped into a muddy swamp.
After humming a song with no regrets, you fell down on our old cotton yarn account and cried. Yingying's tears reflected the original red maple forest, and a withered maple leaf slipped from your fingers.
From then on, we stepped into the red maple forest to play the game of youth. That trail, which is too thin to produce even a small story punctuation, has come alive again and again. Every leaf, every grass and every drop of water presents a kind of artistic conception in our sun.
However, the shackles that have existed in the secular world for thousands of years are too heavy for you to bear, and neither can I. Two little butterflies are struggling to put on the modern Butterfly Lovers.
I am frozen in a six-inch landscape, leaning against the window and meditating. In the palm of your hand, there are thousands of pieces that can't be pieced together, and with the cold wind, I fly into a broken image. In the oil painting, you threw yourself at the raging fire with a sad attitude in my eyes, and turned into a black butterfly that floated into the butterfly for thousands of years. I sat in the fluttering wings of this black butterfly and turned into a clay Buddha. Your red eyes brought the water from the whole river and melted my clay sculpture. Only the soul suddenly flew into the ancient grave.
Every cold night, I light a lingering thought, stand outside your long-closed window and carve a shell that truly belongs to us, a spray that truly belongs to us, but all these are carved in your regret and become a thousand-year-old fossil, a beauty that loses its vitality and can't glow with fragrance.
Do you think it is the sorrow of my creator to carve an art of death with my hands and heart?
yesterday, I was still struggling with my lingering love, but today I am struggling with my intractable hatred. Is this the most painful Zen change?
I left, and walked along that mountain path to the excitement of the outside world to mend my eternal dream of youth. The red maple forest has also disappeared, and I don't expect every leaf, every grass and every drop of water to present a kind of artistic conception in our sun. However, can't that ivy plant quietly crawl through each other's small windows with tentacles in our sunshine?
In the mill shed of the years, I no longer miss the red maple forest in the past, only the ivy is trembling with a vigorous desire-weaving all the low pigeon whistle of the little white dove into a green fairy tale. Fenglindu Prose 4
The golden wind is cool, the maple forest is dyed, the moon is bright, and Washington is brilliant. Looking up to Xi 'an, the buildings are row upon row, the buildings are full of weather, and Fenglin Huafu lives in it, with elegant bearing, unique style and carefree posture. Continue the Han and Tang context, get the essence of traditional culture, profound and heavy; Smile to welcome all directions to phoenix, lead the coquettish fashion culture, and have unlimited vitality. Beautiful Fenglin Huafu, living in the ancient capital Xi 'an, like a duck to water; What an ancient capital Xi 'an! It's beautiful and charming!
Today, in Fenglin Huafu, in the Han Dynasty, Lin Mingyuan was appointed. Shanglin Mingyuan, a paradise for royalty and relatives; Fenglin Washington, ordinary people live in their homes. It's wonderful here-the sage said, "The benevolent is Leshan." Living in Fenglin Huafu, you can overlook the South Lingxiu; The sage said, "He who knows enjoys water." Living in Fenglin Washington, you can listen to the four rivers. It's elegant here-the courtyard is deeply quiet, the winding path is secluded, and the trees are colorful; There are wild interests of lush trees, small birds singing and whispering flowers. Living in Fenglin Huafu, sipping tea and smelling the fragrance, the fragrance of tea curled up and washed the heart; Living in Fenglin Huafu, push the wine to the window and look at the moon, and the moonlight washes the heart like water; Living in Fenglin Washington, everyone is auspicious; Living in Fenglin Huafu, every household is safe; Living in Fenglin Washington, what can a husband ask for? Living in Fenglin Washington, I am comfortable and chic.
what day is it today? Today, the golden wind is refreshing, and the maple forest is dyed. What day is it today? Today, the full moon hangs high, according to the face of Washington. Fenglin Huafu, with bright stars; Fenglin huafu, light for thousands of years!
P.S.: Yesterday afternoon, at the invitation of a real estate developer, I did some cultural planning for their new property. When I got home in the evening, I suddenly remembered that I had written a poem to a property of another real estate developer a few years ago. I turned on the computer and found it still there. This poem was read by me at the inauguration ceremony of this property, with several beautiful women in ancient makeup dancing behind them. Afterwards, I saw the scene on TV, which was quite spectacular. Smile!
I am still cautious about writing advertisements and doing cultural planning for real estate developers, that is, the other party must be a big company with good integrity and high credibility. Of course, it's best not to write. However, in real life, people always have to be reluctant to do something.
There are still a few such words, so look for them in your spare time. Fenglindu Prose 5
The Fenglin in my hometown should be far away, but it always seems to be in front of me.
Just like on my way to work, I occasionally see maple leaves floating in the sky. It is a prosperous autumn, which shows the nostalgia of that year. A mother, a woman who loves life, always picks up a pile of maple leaves on my way home.
At that time, my mother was over sixty years old, and her body was obviously fragile. Her thin hands would collide with the autumn leaves all over the floor and make a rustling sound. Some people thought it was autumn cicada, but I didn't expect a mother with hair in her white hair, who was looking after her beloved granddaughter while picking up maple leaves on the road. The maple leaves are red, which is the evening scene of autumn. My mother's heart is heavy, because her body is getting thin and yellow, but she is strong against the cold in late autumn. Every time she picks up a maple leaf, her granddaughter is still small enough to fold a maple leaf, just following my mother and her grandmother, she will pick up the maple leaf. Granddaughter saw that she was curious, folded it, and pushed the maple leaves away. She saw that the maple leaves were not folded well, but they were folded back and overlapped until the folded maple leaves were moved out like a pagoda. But that was only the scenery in my impression, because the maple leaves were always tilted when they were folded red, which was the reason why they were not flat.
when the maple leaves fall from the trees, they are full of this autumn season, just like a kind of thin thoughts. The family is far away, but the journey is far away, and it is difficult to reach the other side of my heart. That is why my mother always likes to stand on the bridge after picking them up. When does this piece of maple leaves become monotonous and lonely? It seems that she is in a maple street, and the ground is covered with her thoughts day and night, which are as red as fire. She felt a person's helplessness. Others walked around her, like maple leaves floating around her. She couldn't catch them. When the hometown and stranger who kissed her cast strange eyes, she felt that she was so low-faced that she had to look after her granddaughter again, but her granddaughter just folded her own maple leaves, and even didn't know that her grandmother had quietly shed tears in her heart.
I can't keep my homesick former residence, but I'm following my son's work far away, spilling my homesickness, like maple leaves, falling around one by one, but I can't catch them far away. It's a kind of pain, a kind of nostalgia that seems to be about to leave the dust of life. She knows that her illness is intractable, and it is necessary to stay away from her relatives, but it is also painful. After a while, I said, "Grandma, I'm hungry ..." Or I asked, Grandma, what is this? Grandma will buy water for her granddaughter for a while, and buy some delicious food for her granddaughter for a while, but after satiated with food and drink, her granddaughter will look at her and say, Grandma, you also eat, but grandma won't eat, and her granddaughter just insists on eating, saying, Grandma, eat … eat! A small piece of dim sum was almost broken under grandma's push. Grandma quickly caught it and said, Good granddaughter, grandma won't eat it, and grandma is not hungry. Granddaughter used her pouting mouth again to pick up the pieces of broken dim sum. While eating, while looking at so many maple leaves, she asked grandma again, I don't want maple leaves, I want to go home, and both mom and dad have gone home-< P So he pointed to the sun in the sky with his finger. Granddaughter looked up at the sun that was about to set in the west along her grandmother's finger and said, "There is light there ... What is that? That's what grandma said."