Wind, shaking branches, water, bleaching duck feathers, looking forward to the whole winter, you see, spring is coming!
Let's put on spring clothes, like a bird with new feathers, flying over the Woods and hills, full of spring laughter.
Seeing the first butterfly flying, it pulled my feet; I grabbed it happily and released it lovingly.
I couldn't help jumping for joy when I saw the first daisy in full bloom. Xiaohua, do you still recognize me? Look how big I've grown!
Come to the branch that fell last year and wait for it to spit out new green shoots; Then wake up the sleeping stream, listen to it sing and run with you.
Tired from walking, I lay on the field with the bright sunshine above my head. Who scratched my cheek? Ah, green grass grows around me. ...
Dream of flowers
I came back from the botanical garden and brought back a colorful dream. I dreamed that flowers were blooming everywhere in our land.
In front of my house, stretching to the distant horizon, there is a group of sisters surrounded by a purple rose.
Both sides of the road are as white as snow, where is the world of magnolia; There are bright sparks on the mountain. Dandelions are blooming everywhere in Shan Ye.
The bell flower swayed gently in the breeze, the cockscomb flower held its head high, the spring was covered with velvet moss, and the dill flower climbed to the top of the tree.
There is also the largest flower in the world, and Wang Lian can be the cradle of my little sister; This little flower is Pearl Plum. It is dressed like moonlight.
In the mirror-like pond, there are green duckweeds and pink lotus flowers; Even my little brother who eats grass likes to play with garlands.
Like flowers all the year round, it suddenly blooms on this night, and it falls on our land like a rainbow in the sky. ...
When I woke up from this dream, I made another dream: I want to lead these flowers to spring outing like a little brother or sister.
Cover the hill with a flowered dress, set two rows of colored lace on the river, and lay an endless carpet of flowers on the fields around the beekeeping farm.
Smell the flowers and listen to the birds here to make life better; Old beekeepers will praise us-flowers and honey!
kite
Spring. There is a broken kite hanging on my open window. That shiny nylon thread keeps flying in the spring breeze.
Kite, kite, who is your little master? )
I guess the children who fly kites must be very happy and disappointed; His kite once flew to the twelfth floor, but it hung upside down and fell with the wind.
Kite, kite, I want to find your little master. )
I took off this kite and accidentally found the young master's name; Kites are made of test papers, and I also found the failing score!
Don't ask, don't ask, I don't want to say his name. )
He is a little neighbor of mine and lives on the third floor of the building opposite. Tomorrow, I will invite him for a spring outing and return this kite to him by the way.
(Of course, there are other things to talk about ...)
green bristlegrass
Those red wildflowers. Purple wildflowers. Blue wildflowers, all gone. Here, there is only a meadow left.
Everyone else picked flowers. What about me, teacher? What, you just caught me a handful of green bristlegrass?
I pursed my lips and looked at a handful of green bristlegrass I saw it in the teacher's hand, flopping, shaking, flopping and jumping. After a while, it turned into a puppy and gave it to me. I smiled. After a while, I turned into a kitten and gave it to me. I clapped my hands and jumped down. After a while, it turned into a furry bird and gave it to me. I'm flying around with it!
..... From that day on, we all like green bristlegrass, because our little hands have become as dexterous as the teacher's hands!
rain
Outside the window, it's already raining. But, mom, don't stop me. I'm going to get wet.
I put on a straw hat. I ran into the rain. I became an umbrella. Umbrellas fly in the wind and rain, sheltering pedestrians without umbrellas.
When the rain stopped, I flew away again, into the green forest after the rain.
Mom, maybe you lost your daughter. You are in a hurry. You are worried that I will get wet in the rain.
You ran to the street, asked the wind after the rain, asked the rainbow in the sky, and asked everyone: My daughter, where is she?
You come to the forest, ask the birds, ask the flowers, ask the raindrops dripping on the leaves: My daughter, where is she?
They all said: that's a naughty little girl. She is playing hide-and-seek with us again. Who knows where she will hide!
After rain. In the forest. Mushrooms spilled all over the floor. They like playing games after rain best. Mom, when you reach out, you just want to pick the whitest one. The fattest mushroom, suddenly, it changed and became your daughter. She blinked and smiled at you.
-Mom, I'm home! You see, I'm still wearing a straw hat with colorful raindrops hanging on it.
Flowers with rain
I was your disobedient child, and I sneaked out of the house.
Through the Woods, across the bridge, by the bright lake, I played to my heart's content.
I forgot you and my home. Please forgive me, mom.
I went chasing butterflies. It flew into the Woods and hid in a small flower.
I don't want to catch it again, because that little flower is its sweet home.
I was at the lake, watching an uncle go fishing. These little green fish are really like fresh pods.
I also watched the old man, using a sheep bone as bait, and so many bouncing shrimps went online!
I asked my uncle for a small fish and my grandfather for a shrimp.
I said, I promise not to eat. I have a big fish tank at home. I can make a home for them and let them grow up there.
Suddenly, it began to rain. The rain was sharp and heavy, and it hit my cheek, which was painful and numb.
People are running. At this moment, I think of my home and my mother.
Looking at the rainy day, I remembered my mother's favorite flowers with water droplets.
I picked wild flowers in the rain, one after another.
I'm so happy, because I can give my mother a bouquet of water droplets!
I'm going home. I'm a little scared again.
I am a disobedient child. I really shouldn't have snuck out of the house just now.
Maybe because of this, I will be scolded by my mother, or even beaten?
Looking at the flowers with rain in their hands, I was thinking, mom, would you?
Red dragonfly
Fly low, fly low, you red dragonfly. What have you lost? Fly so low, fly so low.
The lawn is covered with light green. These flowers are full of fragrance. There are ripples on the lake.
Red dragonfly, what have you lost? Is it the dew that has dried, or the memory of rainy days?
You may not have found what you lost, but you are tired of flying, lying on my bamboo fence and resting quietly.
I sneak up on you and grab your transparent wings.
Day, it began to rain, drop by drop, reminding me to go home quickly!
Hardly had I run home when it began to rain heavily outside the window.
I put the red dragonfly on the green screen window, and it looked at the foggy world outside the window.
Is it still looking for something lost?
Mom, you told me that it is looking for lost love, the most precious thing in the world.
It was calm after the storm. I opened the window and let the red dragonfly fly to the clear sky and the flowery land. ...
Listen with your eyes
Mother said the most common sentence:
When listening to others, look at them.
This sentence has been growing with me,
Let me learn how to associate with people.
Listening to others is a kind of communication.
What communication needs most is sincerity.
When I talk to others,
I listen with my ears and eyes.
It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul,
My window is always bright and bright.
Sincere eyes are worth a thousand words,
Eyes convey warm spring.
My mother taught me to live in one sentence.
Her sincere eyes still shine on me today.
The blue firefly in Jin Bo's group poem Sonnets with Symphonic Colors is a beautiful and interesting poem: "At that time, every summer night was as cool as water/fireflies often flew in/the faint blue light was beautiful/reflected my first fairy tale dream."
I sat next to my grandmother/her story is like a ballad/saying that wearing a necklace with fireflies/wearing it on my chest is the most beautiful.
That night I walked into the fairy tale world/dreamed that my firefly necklace was shining/woke up, and there was a full moon outside the window/looking at me from the distant sky.
Although the blue fire has disappeared from my chest/there are still many stars shining in the sky. "
Children's literature returns the essence of fantasy and innocence to children and gives contemporary children a beautiful and loving aesthetic world.
During his 50-year career in children's literature, Jin Bo has published more than 70 poems, lyrics, fairy tales, essays and critical works. Many famous books have been included in Chinese and music textbooks for primary and secondary schools, and they have been nominated for the International Andersen Award for their brilliant achievements, becoming the "closest person to Andersen" in China's literary world. And the birth of every children's poem, fairy tale and prose is the rebirth of his immortal golden childhood.
Endless, words have spirit. Childish life has no aging, and poetic life has no winter. Just like his own evaluation of himself: "open your eyes and look at yourself, you have entered old age;" Close your eyes and look at yourself, or your child. From children to the elderly, from the elderly to childhood ... writing for children is very happy, and there will be no sadness and gray mentality at dusk. "Jin Bo's living room is full of all kinds of exquisite children's books, among which his own works can be put into a laundry list. This "person who gives his heart to his children" regards books as sacred objects that he pursues all his life. He handed me some newly published books-I can see you when I open the window, children's enlightenment literature, and words that can sing and dance. In these works, there is a happy old man who is still childlike, telling us about his long childhood of 70 years old. ...
1
My mother fed me with nursery rhymes.
Jin Bo agrees with belinsky: "Poets are born, not made."
However, a born poet also needs time. The poet's nature is like a seed. It needs fertile soil, warm sunshine and proper moisture to germinate and grow.
Ancient Beijing is a city full of rhythm. It not only trained dramatists Guan Hanqing and Mei Lanfang, but also trained scholars Wang Guowei and writers Lao She. More interestingly, many literati came here and they became poetic. Zhu Ziqing has an essay "Moonlight on the Lotus Pond", and Bing Xin has poems "Spring Water" and "Stars". Similarly, the ancient cultural capital gave birth to the poet Jin Bo, who was born in Changxindian, Fengtai District and was influenced by children's songs in his mother's arms since childhood:
"Laba has money in his mouth, but no money in his legs."
-This kind of "children's songs" and "children's language" describe life with extremely vivid language, express love and hate, and never forget it in my heart.
"Kid, kid, I went into the well, fell down and picked up a penny. I am jealous, I buy salt, I marry my wife, and I celebrate the New Year. "
-He explained: "You see, the nursery rhyme" Children "is only 35 words, but it tells how rich the content of life is. How much use does a copper coin have through fantasy and exaggeration? Childlike interests are like nature. "
"Autumn wind, weather changes, a needle, a thread,
I'm so worried that my mother is sweating all over.
Mother, mother,
So busy? '
I sew clothes for my son.
Mother is also involved,
It doesn't matter
How filial you are when you grow up. "
-Jinbo's arms are like a nursery rhyme kaleidoscope, changing novel flowers for you anytime and anywhere. In his view, children's songs are our nation's musical enlightenment literature reading, which is very necessary for inheritance.
"My mother nurtured me with wonderful nursery rhymes and gave me the most impressive literary enlightenment. Some truths that must be adhered to all my life may be the first time I felt from a children's song in my childhood. " Last year, Writers Publishing House and Sina Children's Channel held the "My Favorite Nursery Rhyme and Nursery Rhyme Writers" selection activity, and netizens voted for 20 writers and works. Among them, Mr. Jin Bo's Reading Music was well received:
"A book, two doors, hidden inside.
Little people, many stories, told one after another.
Good-looking and good-listening, reading more books makes you smart.
Mom and dad also came to see me and let me be a little gentleman. "
A great writer does not shy away from "children's language" because he has a strong sense of responsibility. Jin Bo advocates "writing children's songs into poems", while acknowledging the practicality of children's songs, he also emphasizes their literariness. Only by striving to raise children's songs to a poetic level and giving full play to their literary characteristics can children learn the purest literary nutrition.
References:
/bjpd-whsd/2006-06/ 12/content _ 7240977 . htm
Writer Jin Bo:
Jin Bo, 1935, was born in Beijing in July. Literary creation began in universities. He has published more than ten poems, such as Echo, green watermelon, My Snowman, Between You and Me, Moonlit Night in the Woods, Trees in the Wind, Flowers with Rain, Let's Go and See the Sea-Children's Sonnets of Jinbo. Fairy Tales Collection: Little Leaf Fairy Tales, Golden Sea Snail House, Adventures of Little Apple Man, Eye Tree, Shadow Man, White Castle, Tracking Little Green Man, etc. In addition, there are collections of essays such as Waiting for Good Friends, Waiting for You to Knock, and Thanks for the Past. Commentary collection "Pursuing the Elves". Selected Works of Jin Bo, Selected Poems of Children of Jin Bo, Selected Works of Jin Bo, Collection of Poems and Songs of Jin Bo, etc. Many works have been included in Chinese and music textbooks for primary and secondary schools.
His works have won the National Book Award, the "Five One Project" Award, the National Excellent Children's Literature Award of the Chinese Writers Association, the Soong Ching Ling Children's Literature Award and the Bingxin Book Award for many times. 1992 was nominated by the International Andersen Prize.