When did I hold my cheek? The meaning of the poem "Childhood"

"Childhood"

Huang Guohui

When did I still hold my cheeks

Looking up at my father's face

The ruts worn by the years

Meditating

The carriage of time roars in

Full of my innocent dreams

When was I still lying at my mother’s knees

The stories in my ears flowed like mountain springs

The caress of the breeze was a hypnotic ditty

In my sleep

My body is in the clouds

Swaying leisurely

When did I still hold the hand of the kite

Lying down on the green court< /p>

The ants crawled up my nose

Stomped their feet and complained about me

Crushed their wedding chamber

When will I still hope? Excursions with the class

Pots and pans are essential luggage

Light a fire and look forward to tempting meals

Raindrops arrive unexpectedly< /p>

Results

You can only taste them together with laughter

This poem recalls the carefree and happy life of childhood from different angles and depicts that period of childhood. A time full of innocence and fun that is nostalgic and unforgettable.

The first paragraph describes a childhood full of fantasy from the perspective of admiring his father, flying freely with the wings of imagination. As time goes by, he grows up slowly, but his father becomes older and older.

The second paragraph, from the perspective of being grateful to the mother, describes how the mother's love has turned into a mountain spring of stories, flowing gurglingly to accompany her in her dreams and growth.

The third paragraph recalls the fun of flying a kite on the court from the perspective of childhood games, lying on the court and crushing the ant nest.

The last paragraph recalls the past outings of childhood classes from the perspective of group activities. The children made their own fires to cook, and their interest continued even when it rained.

The whole poem is straightforward and clear in emotion, and the narrative is vivid and vivid. It describes the colorful life of childhood from different angles, as well as the fantasies, joys and sorrows of the past. The poetry and childlike innocence blend together, making the readers Produces *whispers.