Recite prose on the other side of the sea 1.
When I come back from the sunshine, I feel clean about the sunshine. The sky is clean, the ground is clean and the sea is clean. Clean, really clean. This kind of clean feeling is not the kind of clean that dirty clothes have been washed, nor the kind of white and bright clean that new houses have just been painted. This clean feeling is like a heart. You can't see a clean heart, but you can feel it. Of course, feelings are not obtained out of thin air. Swear that the seas run dry and the rocks crumble is not necessarily true, and prosperity may not last long. Those clear ideas, those listed plans, and those ways and means to achieve certain goals may be all kinds of things that are imperative at that time, and they will feel so redundant many years later. Once after I was in Sang Hai, I found that the original farmyard was warm, too. Only after I put aside my merits and demerits will my heart really be clear. It turns out that nothing in this world is reliable except morality and quality. Just like the sea, the sea is not a warm heart to rely on, but we still go to it unswervingly and throw ourselves into its arms without hesitation, never thinking about why.
Hai, I am coming. There is no agreement in previous lives and no commitment in this life, but I am here, not for you, but also for you.
Watching the waves roll over the silver edge, my heart involuntarily opened, I involuntarily opened my arms, walked into its arms, reached out and shook hands with him kindly, took off my feet, walked into its world and felt its temperature. Then I can't help but want to go inside. I think this shallow beach is too shallow. I want to go deeper into its heart and have a real heart-to-heart communication with it.
Sea, can I open your heart? Can I open my heart to you?
What color will the sea heart be? It is said that the ocean is wider than the land, the sky is wider than the ocean, and people's minds are wider than the sky. But what will in the heart of the sea be like?
Countless poems say that the heart of the sea is broad, profound, rich and inclusive. It is sometimes quiet, sometimes passionate, sometimes warm, and sometimes furious. It can accept all rivers without revealing much, and it can also give birth to everything without changing color. It is larger than land and remains calm as always. It has a longer memory than history, but it is still full of vitality.
But when we really face the sea, we can't see these things and can't remember them. The sea in front of us is as simple as that. Just wave after wave rolling in to us, and then wave after wave receding. The beach is clean, the sea is clean, the feet standing in the sea are naturally clean, and the heart soaked in the sea is naturally clean. Clean, really clean. This is the feeling that the sunny seaside gives us.
In this simple way of communicating with the sea, our hearts will become simple and we will ask some simple questions, such as: What is beyond the sea?
Looking at the waves coming in a perfect stick figure way and quietly receding, the tides are rising and disappearing day after day, and the sound of the waves whispering every moment of the year, we can't help but think, where did this continuous sound of the waves come from? The seaside where we play and frolic is swallowed up by the sea for a while, and then exposed to the beach for people to play. Who directed the game? The waves are so perfect and casual that we almost believe that all fairy tales will be true. Who improvised this handwriting?
So we will look up at the distance, and the distance of the sea is vast and confused. Then we will repeat this question: What is beyond the sea?
What's beyond the sea? Is it vast? Is the product rich? Is it a bottomless pit? Still mysterious? Perhaps it is impossible to measure and define the thought of the sea with the brain capacity of each of us. Historians have the views of historical experts, geographers have the knowledge of geographical experts, and marine biologists will feel that they know a lot, but writers will feel that they have a deeper view of the sea. How can we answer our doubts when countless teams of experts can't fully understand the ocean?
What's beyond the sea? I stared at it for a long time when I sat by the sea and stared at it. I don't know what attracted me. This beauty is too broad. The silver sea is dull, dull can't find traces of life, dull can't see the disparity between peaks and valleys, dull can't feel deep affection and rich expressions. It is plain, plain and reminiscent of that poem: once the sea was difficult for water! If you really make a drop of water in the sea, you will find it difficult to make a drop of water!
I stared at the distance for a long time, staring for a long time, tired of watching, looked down and suddenly found a stone, a small white stone with unique shape and little value. It has exquisite lines, flawless colors, perfect natural curves, smooth and delicate figure and crystal clear colors, and its beauty is enough to impress anyone who watches it carefully. I hold it in my hand. It is as big as a button and delicate as a baby. I continued to look down, like a treasure, one, two, three, red, yellow and black, with different sizes, colors and shapes. Every work is more beautiful, unique and popular. But if you love more, you will be picky. If you are too picky, you will give up. Later, no matter how big or small you are, what color or shape can't impress me. Stone is still the ordinary stone, shining on the beach, like the darling of the sea, but once it leaves the sea, it loses its gorgeous color, crystal clear color, and it is useless, just a useless little stone! So I looked up again and looked into the distance of the sea. I suddenly understood what was beyond the sea!
People say that every grain of sand used to be a huge stone, washed away by the sea for countless times and years, and finally turned into a grain of sand. But even gold can be found in the sand. And these beautiful little stones have been brought to the shore now, and we have seen them, but at the next high tide, they will be brought back to the sea, and after years of scouring, they will eventually become sand and sink into the unknown seabed, and maybe the sun will never rise.
People say that everyone has a unique life, just as there are never two identical leaves in this world, and there are no two identical lives in this world. Because everyone is unique and unrepeatable, everyone's life is a wonderful masterpiece. Everyone used to be the baby of their parents. Everyone has gone through the years, and everyone will eventually sink into the long river of history and become an unknown sand! Although several people's names will be written on the scroll of history, just like gold found in sand, too many people have made sand that has sunk in the long river of history. There are generations of ancestors in these sands, as well as people like you, me and him who are still like a small stone.
But we are willing to be a stone! No matter how helpless we are, no matter whether we pursue ideals or hope, there is no denying that we are still a stone! But I am still proud, because we have proud colors, bright colors, unique curves and temperament, as well as silently enduring character and perseverance! We are still a stone! But we still have ideals and ambitions, and we will become a shining gold after more years of washing!
Watching the waves roll around the silver edge, wave after wave, surging towards me in the most beautiful way, and then washed away wave after wave. Looking up from afar, the sea in the distance is misty and helpless. I suddenly understood, what is beyond the sea!
The other side of the sea is life!
On the other side of the sea, recite prose 2.
A garden in the Song Dynasty, which can be passed down from generation to generation, is still famous today, perhaps only Shenyang Garden in Shaoxing. Shen Yuan became famous because of a love tragedy. The poet Lu You and his cousin Tang Wan wrote two poems on the garden wall, "Hairy Phoenix", which is one of the hot spots.
Lu You may be the best poet in the Song Dynasty, but he is definitely not worthy of Tang Wan's death.
Cousin Tang Wan died of depression in an autumn. Before her death, she was still reading her cousin's "Hairpin Phoenix", which was sung by later generations. Since this spring, Tang Wan, who was on his deathbed, has been humming this sad word since he met Lu You unexpectedly in Shenyuan.
A plum blossom fell into the poet's eyes. It was the spring of the Southern Song Dynasty, and Lao Luyou once again set foot in Shen Garden. In front of the mottled garden wall, the poet saw an old word he wrote 48 years ago:
Red crisp hands, Huang Teng wine, erotic palace willow market.
Dong Feng Xie, who is in a bad mood, has been very depressed in recent years.
No, no, no.
Spring is the same, people are empty, and tears are red and sad.
Peach blossom falls, idle pool pavilion. Although Meng Shan is here, it is hard to trust Jin Shu. Mo, Mo, Mo!
In the last days, Tang Wan recalled the happy years between himself and his cousin over and over again. At the age of twenty, Lu You married his cousin Tang Wan. The two of them sang and embroidered butterflies, just like the story of a typical talented person and beautiful woman in an old novel.
Unfortunately, such days are too short. Tang Wan only remembers that one day, her mother-in-law told her that they were too in love, which would ruin her son's studies and prevent him from becoming famous.
Tang Wan didn't figure it out until he died, and falling in love can also be a crime. But what she didn't understand was that the poet who was said to have been born on a boat in Huaihe River on a stormy night, and his cousin who later fought the nomads from afar, could not sign a cowardly name on a piece of paper against their parents' orders.
Forty-eight years later, Lu You revisited Shenyuan and found a faded old word between the walls of the garden, also known as Zanfeng, which was a trace of Tang Wan's words:
The world is thin, human feelings are evil, and it is easy to fall when the rain is sent late.
The breeze is dry and the tears are residual. If you have to worry, just say it alone.
Difficult, difficult, difficult. People become different, today is not yesterday, and sick souls are often thousands of miles away.
The horn is cold and the night is hazy. Afraid of being asked questions.
Swallow your tears and pretend to be happy. Hide, hide, hide!
In the spring of the Southern Song Dynasty, a plum blossom slanted in the poet's eyes. Through the plum blossom, Lu You failed to hold a pair of red crisp hands in the wind.
Forty years later, 67-year-old Lu You revisited Shenyuan Garden and saw the inscription of "Feng Feng" broken in half, with tears in his eyes. Write it down? Who said Lu Quan was heartbroken? Broken clouds and endless dreams? These quatrains mourn the death of his wife.
At the age of seventy-five, Lu You simply moved to the vicinity of Shenyuan, still thinking about Tang Wan from time to time. Every time I go to town, I have to visit the temple, but I can't win? . Shenyuan flowers are red and willow green, and Shenyuan Bridge is flowing. The scenery remains the same, but things have changed. All this deeply stimulated the poet, who wrote two poems "Shen Yuan" that have been handed down for ages:
On the city, the setting sun draws a corner to mourn, and the Shen Garden is not a revival pool platform.
Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.
The dream is broken and fragrant for forty years, but the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton.
This body is a land of mountains and mountains, or a trace of death.
Until Lu You was 84 years old, in the spring of the last year before his death, he still went to Shenyuan to mourn his dead wife with the help of his children and grandchildren. This poem is still full of unforgettable attachment and acacia, full of helplessness and despair:
The flowers of Shenjiayuan are like brocade, and I knew half of them in those days.
I also believe that beauty will eventually become soil, and it is too late to dream!
On the other side of the sea, recite prose 3.
On the other side of the sea
? Send it to an unknown place
I listened to the roar of the wind.
With the noise of the world.
Calm down and look for it slowly.
Is there your voice across the sea?
I go with the flow.
A smile that longs for happiness.
Lie down and think quietly.
Are you so restless across the sea?
I rubbed my sandcastle.
Thinking about the unknown c key
Sit down and chat.
Are you so happy and proud on the other side of the sea