Poetry touches my emotions
I pick up one of the brightest red leaves; I look at the most beautiful place with the setting sun; I hold a handful of the clearest spring water ; And in the vast sky of knowledge, I choose the most charming poems to bring me satisfaction, and let the poems affect my emotions and soar in the sky. The poems moved my emotions to the heroic words of "The old man is in a state of poverty, his ambition is thousands of miles; the martyr is still ambitious in his old age." Cao Cao's majestic spirit made me appreciate the heroism of a military strategist and his great ambition full of confidence. Reading about his heroic ambitions, my heart was aroused and inspired. The poems brought my emotions to the Eastern Jin Dynasty. The dark society and the intrigues of the officialdom made Tao Yuanming resolutely retreat to nature and pursue the leisure and contentment of "picking chrysanthemums under the coyotes in the east and leisurely seeing the southern mountains." From his leisurelyness, I feel that the most authentic human temperament can only be obtained from nature, and the purest leisure in life can only be obtained by looking away from the world. Poetry brings my emotions into a world full of romanticism. "There will be times when the wind and waves break, and the clouds and sails will rise directly across the sea." This kind of open-mindedness aroused in depression is unique to Li Bai, right? This kind of hopeful mind for the future is brought about by Li Bai's romanticism, right? His open-mindedness and broad-mindedness not only make me admire him, but also allow me to use this as a benchmark to face the setbacks in life. The poems brought my emotions to the melancholy under the moonlight. At night, while drinking sake and looking at the full moon, the sorrowful thoughts came to me like spring water, "People have joys and sorrows, and the moon waxes and wanes. This is something that has never happened in ancient times. I hope that people will live long and be thousands of miles away from each other." It should be derived from that sadness, right? Literary giants like Su Shi interpreted and wished for the feelings of underappreciated talents and longing for brothers. Shouldn't we also abandon our worries and treat tomorrow with a blessing attitude? Poetry is a clear spring in my heart. From then on, I wandered in the sky and clouds, listened to the sound of poetry, let the poetry affect my emotions, and found my happiness in the poetry.
The moonlight affects my emotions
The wings of youth cut through the pain of memory; yesterday’s tears stirred up ripples in my heart; last night’s moonlight filled the room with warmth. …
“Tick…Tick…” Time passes by. This is the last day of junior high school. Tomorrow’s high school entrance examination will be the turning point for me to realize my dream. My thoughts are messy and scattered in the moonlight. I couldn't sleep for a long time.
There was a slight sound on the stairs outside the door, and he stopped silently in front of the door. After a long time, there was a sound of metal colliding on the door. An object slowly stretched into the keyhole, turned slightly, and the door quietly opened. So light, so weak and slow. I know, that's mom. I didn't want her to know that I couldn't sleep tonight, so I turned my head and pretended to be asleep.
There was no light or sound, but I could feel that my mother was standing on tiptoes and quietly walking into my room. I kept silent, not wanting her to worry about me, but how could my son hide his thoughts from his mother? "What's wrong? Are you too nervous to sleep?" "Well, a little bit." I replied. Suddenly, a hand fell on my thigh. For a moment, I was shocked. That hand was so rough, so old, as old as a withered leaf. Was that my mother's hand? Those once skillful hands? I have never felt my mother's aging so truly, without any distance, or the collision between flesh and body. Tears soaked the pillow cover.
The moonlight filled the purple window lattice and shone warmly on my body.
My mother's hand raised and fell, once, twice... just like when I was a child, so gentle and warm, accompanying me through the years of my life. "Mom will stay with you tonight." I didn't answer. At this time, I was already speechless. Tears filled my eyes. I suppressed my voice and silently enjoyed this deep maternal love. As clear as the moonlight, warm maternal love.
In the darkness - recalling, thinking about the vicissitudes of life with laughter; in the sky - wandering, crying and remembering the fragrance; looking back - the pain has already evolved into the past. The bright moon at that time was precious sincerity. The bright moon now and in the past lamented my delay in enlightenment.
May this cool moonlight never die