1. Expand the ancient poems that describe scenes
I will give you many poems to ensure your satisfaction: Expand the "Four Seasons of Pastoral Excitement" In April, I always go out very early in my hometown. After plowing the fields, the next morning there are always many farmers carrying hoes to remove weeds in the fields and turn over the land to make the crops more fertile.
He returned home from daytime to unitary hour, still sweating profusely. After dinner, he and his wife rubbed hemp together. Their children were also very filial, each with their own skills, and they came home early. If they contribute to the family and be a good part of the family, even if they don't know how to plow the fields or make hemp, they will go to some shady places to learn how to farm, make hemp, and grow melons. Ah, how filial the farm children are, and how fulfilling their lives are. They also rely on their own labor to make a living. It is really a pastoral scene in four seasons, each with its own interests! Expanded "Ode to the Willows" He Zhizhang In the spring of March, the spring scenery is intoxicating.
One day, the poet He Zhizhang was recuperating at home and felt quite depressed, so he asked Li Bai to chat. He Zhizhang was in a particularly comfortable mood because he had to get together with his friends to relieve his worries. Along the way, he hummed a tune and enjoyed the road The scenery on the side, with green grass, green leaves, and gorgeous flowers, is really refreshing. Halfway through, He Zhizhang's eyes suddenly lit up, and he couldn't help but exclaimed: "What a beautiful willow forest!" So he slowed down and began to appreciate it slowly.
I saw microwaves on the clear lake, and clever little swallows flying close to the lake for a while, rushing to the other side, and jumping into the air for a while, so happy. Pairs of mandarin ducks are chasing and playing in the water. The willow trees on the shore are like jasper, bright and intoxicating green, and the pointed willow buds are like elves just cut out with scissors. The willow branches hang down gently like ribbons.
The breeze blew by, and the hair-like branches swayed lightly in the wind. He Zhizhang was intoxicated.
Suddenly, an inspiration flashed in his mind, and he turned his witticism into a poem: "The jasper is made up into a tree as high as a tree, with thousands of green silk ribbons hanging down. I wonder who cuts the thin leaves? In February? The spring breeze is like scissors."
After chanting, he stopped again and quickly wrote down this swan song of spring in his notebook. After finishing the book, he recited it repeatedly and felt that the poem was quite good. When the true meaning was still not finished, he suddenly remembered his appointment with Li Bai and thought, why don't I use this poem to have a drink with brother Li Bai? He reluctantly left this beautiful scenery.
Expansion of "Quiet Night Thoughts" Today is August 15th. It was originally a day for family members to gather together to eat, drink, talk and laugh, but I am wandering in a foreign land. well! This is the first time I feel so alone and helpless! I couldn't help but drink some wine, lay on the bed, patting my round belly, and had so many thoughts in my mind.
I glanced at the ground with drunken eyes, Huh? Why is there hoarfrost on the ground? I seemed to find a ray of comfort in the dark night. I reached out and wanted to touch it, but then I thought again: Why is there white frost again in autumn? Even if there were, it wouldn't be in the house! I suddenly woke up from the wine, and looked carefully, oh, it turned out to be the soft moonlight, as light as gauze, and like a clear stream of water rippling... I raised my head and looked at the golden bright moon. Ah, such a big and pure moon is embedded in the dark night, and the setting is so beautiful. A trace of black clouds floats by. Alas, there is a trace of loneliness and a trace of desolation.
I lowered my head and couldn't help but think of my hometown. Tears filled my eyes. Alas, I was working alone as a small official in a completely unfamiliar city, and now I am still poor. God, my family is doing well now. ? How is your hometown now? I still don’t know any news about my hometown. I’m so lonely! "Spring Night Happy Rain" is an expansion of the original poem - Du Fu: "Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen. The wind sneaks into the night, moistening things silently.
The wild paths are dark with clouds, and the river boats The fire is bright alone. Look at the red wet place at dawn, and the flowers are heavy in Jinguancheng."
It rained again today. It seems that the rain is really aware and knows that it is time to rain. In this season of revival of all things, it quietly assists the growth of all things on earth.
The rain falls gently on the world with the breeze, and the thin rain silently nourishes the little creatures who are thirsty for nectar. I put on my clothes and went out to enjoy the rainy scene at night.
Walking on the field path, because of the rain, everything around was so gray that I couldn’t see clearly. I could only see the tender green of the new grass in the drizzle, which seemed to be flowing and bright. color. In the distance, a lonely light on a small fishing boat drifting on the river looked so bright in the darkness! At dawn, I immediately walked out of the door to see the beautiful pictures left by the rain.
Ah, the crystal clear raindrops remain on the bright red petals, which seem to increase the color of the petals. The fiery red flowers dress up Jinguan City like a cluster of flowers, which further highlights the charm of Jinguan City. It is so beautiful! "Boancing Guazhou" expands the original poem "Jingkou Guazhou is separated by water, and Zhongshan is only separated by several mountains.
The spring breeze is green again on the south bank of the river. When will the bright moon shine on me again?" Early in the morning, I should Set off. Although there is still mist in the sky, and although I am still reluctant to leave, I have to go.
I looked at the rolling river under my feet with a sad face. Alas, the river also has its destiny and its goal, and what about me? And what about me? I looked towards Jingkou on the south bank. It was so close to Guazhou where I was, separated only by the Yangtze River, but I couldn't reach there, alas! A burst of children's laughter interrupted my thoughts. I turned around and saw several children pulling a kite string. Alas, I often play this game under the big willow tree in my hometown! I couldn't help but look south again. My hometown Zhongshan was only separated by a few layers of mountains. In the distance, there were clouds and mist. I withdrew my gaze and sighed again. The spring breeze blew, blowing green on both sides of the river. Everything came to life, and the birds chirped happily. When will my spring come? When can I return to officialdom? I really long for the warmth of home! When will the bright moonlight shine on me to return to my hometown? Expansion of "Mountain Travel" I went out one afternoon in late autumn and came to the front of a mountain with bleak trees. I was deeply fascinated by the scenery in front of me; a stone road winding up, as if a white stripe emerged among the yellow and green vegetation. line, and the top of this white line is the white clouds lingering on the top of the mountain, and some houses are vaguely visible under the white clouds.
Under the reflection of the setting sun, every leaf in the maple forest after frost is like a burning flame, redder than the spring flowers in February. I stopped the car, Jing was so moved by the magnificence of natural life that I couldn't help but exclaim: The frost leaves are redder than the February flowers! I had to compose a poem right away.
Looking from afar, the mountains are very deep and high, high mountains in late autumn. 2. Have you ever rewritten an ancient poem about scenery into a composition?
In the spring of March, colorful flowers are blooming everywhere, and small butterflies of various colors are dancing, making the earth more beautiful.
In this March, when willows are like smoke and flowers are like brocade, old friend Meng Haoran is leaving to go to Yangzhou, a famous city with colorful flowers and brocade curtains. His friend Li Bai asked Meng Haoran to go to the Yellow Crane Tower on the bank of the Yangtze River to see Meng Haoran off.
It was only six o'clock, and there was a reddish morning glow on the horizon. Li Bai took a bottle of wine from the small wooden box. He said: "Brother Meng is about to leave Huangheji, and I will give this old wine to you.
I am so envious of you going to the resort - Yangzhou in this beautiful season, and I am extremely reluctant to leave you. You are going east, and I don’t know when you will return..." Meng Haoran interrupted Li Bai: "Brother Li, there is no need to be reluctant to leave. I am just going to Yangzhou, which is not far from here. If Brother Li misses me, come to Yangzhou to be with me. Let's get drunk together..." "Meng Haoran, let's get on the boat!" the boatman shouted from below. "Brother Li, farewell!" Meng Haoran said and squeezed Li Bai's hand.
"See you later, take care of it!" Li Bai said. Meng Haoran hurried downstairs and boarded the boat.
Meng Haoran's ship set sail, and Li Bai stood on the Yellow Crane Tower reluctantly waving to his old friend. He watched the lonely boat sailing, taking his old friend farther and farther away, and finally disappeared at the end of the blue sky.
At this time, there were only raging waves running towards the end of the blue sky, as if chasing old friends. Li Bai stood there looking into the distance, meditating for a long time.
All this lingered in Li Bai's mind, so he picked up his pen and wrote "Farewell to Meng Haoran in Guangling": The old friend bid farewell to the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and the fireworks descended from Yangzhou in March. In late spring in March, the Yangtze River was covered with smoke and flowers were blooming. Young Li Bai was bidding farewell to the great poet Meng Haoran on the Yellow Crane Tower.
The Yellow Crane Tower overlooks the Yangtze River, with its eaves flying high in the sky. Li Bai and Meng Haoran looked up at the blue sky and white clouds for a while, and at the scenery on the river in the distance, both intentionally not to touch the feeling of farewell hidden deep in their hearts.
Finally, Li Bai raised his glass and said: "Master Meng, your character is admirable, and your poems are famous all over the world. Ever since I got to know you, I have always regarded you as my brother." Teacher.
Today you will go down the river to Yangzhou. I don’t know when we can meet again, so please drink this glass!" Meng Haoran took the glass and drank it all. Said: "Wang Bo said it well, 'There are close friends in the sea, and we are like neighbors at the end of the world.' Although we are temporarily separated, our friendship is like the waves of the Yangtze River that will last forever."
The willows on the shore are lingering, There are dots of sand gulls on the river. Friends boarded the ship.
The white sails gradually moved away with the river wind and disappeared at the end of the blue sky. Li Bai was still standing by the river, staring into the distance, and saw the spring water of the river flowing mightily to the horizon... Li Bai couldn't restrain his excitement, and then recited the famous poem - "The Yellow Crane Tower Sends Meng Haoran to Guangling" 》: An old friend bid farewell to the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and fireworks descended from Yangzhou in March.
The shadow of the lone sail in the distance is gone in the blue sky, and only the Yangtze River can be seen flowing in the sky. During the fireworks in March, Brother Meng and I rode horses to the Yellow Crane Tower where we often go.
Today is the day when Brother Meng is going west to Yangzhou. I have already prepared fine wine and appetizers for Brother Meng’s farewell trip. Brother Meng and I climbed up to the Yellow Crane Tower and sat at a table by the window, drinking fine wine and eating appetizers.
At this time, the breeze was blowing, and the clothes of Brother Meng and I were blowing. (The author’s rich imagination, from this detail, we feel the feeling of spring, giving the article a dynamic beauty.) Meng and I Brother put down his wine glass and came to the window, looking out at the fireworks-like sea of ??flowers, the sparkling water on the river, and the flocks of birds flying freely in the blue sky.
(The transition from the previous narrative to the description of the scene is natural.) In such a picturesque scenery, Brother Meng and I became very popular in poetry, drinking and fighting, and composed one good poem after another.
Overjoyed, we began to talk freely about our thoughts, ambitions and ideals. After talking for a long time, it was getting late and Brother Meng was about to leave.
Brother Meng and I could only drink the last glass of wine. I stood up, holding the wine pot in one hand and the wine glass in the other. I slowly poured the wine for Brother Meng and myself. After a glass of wine, Brother Meng and I picked up the wine glasses together. (The description of the scene makes the readers feel as if they are actually there.) Brother Meng said: "Hey! There is no such thing as a never-ending feast. We say goodbye today. I don’t know when we will see you again. Come! Let us drink this."
After that, we drank it all. At this time, Brother Meng picked up his luggage and said, "Brother, I'm leaving."
"Let me give you another ride!" I said. After saying that, Brother Meng and I walked downstairs together.
(This sentence is not in harmony with the artistic conception of the article. The first sentence below can indicate where to go.) We walked hand in hand on the forest path. The scenery on the road was so beautiful, such a spring scenery. .
On the green grass, there are dots of wild flowers, and the trees on the roadside are sprouting green buds. The wind blew gusts, and the river surface was sparkling. A free bird chased behind us, singing with its graceful voice, as if singing a farewell song for Brother Meng. In such a vibrant atmosphere Among the scenery, we are not in the mood to appreciate it.
The two of us were silent along the way. (The beautiful scenery creates a strong sentiment of farewell.
A twist of the pen subtly highlights the sadness of farewell.) When we arrived at the riverside, the boat had already arrived. Brother Meng just wanted to When we got on the boat, I grabbed Brother Meng and said (it was too sudden. Both Li Bai and Meng Haoran were quite relaxed about their separation.
There wouldn’t be such a dramatic performance!) and said: "This Farewell, I don’t know when we will meet again. I wish you a safe journey."
Brother Meng said gratefully, "We will definitely meet again." Brother Meng stepped on the boat and stood on the bow. , our eyes met, he held my hand and said, "Goodbye!" The boatman started rowing, and the boat rowed forward slowly.
Brother Meng stood on the bow of the boat and kept waving to me. I also waved my hand and silently blessed Brother Meng. The boat went far away and disappeared into the horizon where water and sky meet. Only the shadow of the boat could be seen.
Nearby, I saw waves beating one after another, rushing towards the shore. The shadows of fish are reflected in the water; in the distance, the waves on the river are flashing, and the river is rolling forward.
I have been standing by the river blankly and have not left. As I watched, I recited a poem: An old friend bids farewell to the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, Fireworks descend on Yangzhou in March.
The shadow of the lone sail in the distance is gone in the blue sky, and only the Yangtze River can be seen flowing in the sky. 3. Who can help me change an ancient poem describing scenery into a short composition
Write a short composition around the ancient poem "Wang Jiangnan"
As usual, she washed up early Afterwards, I went to the river tower alone to wait for my husband from afar who didn't know when he would return.
Standing alone on the river tower and looking towards the river, the sun has just risen, and its light
spreads gently on the river. The water surface shimmered with golden light under its touch, just like the stars twinkling in the sky at night. Along with the morning sun, wisps of new hope rose from her heart.
Small boats sailed gently by on the river, and the sun shone on the smiling faces of the boat passengers slightly
due to their return home, so sweet and so true! The breeze blew gently past her face, blowing away a drop of Sijun's tear. The wind caressed the golden river surface, and the river water moved gently
. The little sails of the ship slowly sailed by, and the guests on the ship could hear the joy of returning home.
Wisps of sunlight spread out on the river, spreading out, and another ship sailed away in the setting sun
. The sun slowly set, shining brightly on the sky, and the golden river surface gradually
dyed orange. Another day of morning and evening, another day of hard waiting, when will I wait for you to return? Just wait quietly.
It’s still the little sails, the still flowing water, and the same girl who looks forward to your return every day
But her youth is no longer there. 4. Have you ever rewritten an ancient poem about scenery into a composition?
Original author: Bai Juyi. When I walked to Qiantang Lake in spring, to the north of Gushan Temple and to the west of Jia Pavilion, the water surface was initially flat and the clouds were low.
In several places, early orioles compete for warmth in the trees, while new swallows peck at the spring mud. The random flowers are gradually charming the eyes, and only Asakusa has no horse hooves.
My favorite part of the lake is the east side, where the green poplars shade the white sand embankment. Adapted from "Spring Trip to Qiantang Lake" Spring has really come. The sun shines warmly on me. I stretch my body. It's time to go out and do some activities.
The fog outside envelopes the earth, the houses, and the people who come to the West Lake for morning exercises. Climbing up Gushan, the cool breeze blows by, sweeping away the fatigue of winter and bringing the vitality of spring.
The trees shade each other. “If you want to compare the West Lake to the West, it’s always appropriate to dress in a rich and light way.
"
Looking away, the West Lake is so vast and empty. The water is rippling, like a mirage, visible in the morning and disappearing in and out.
Sit in the Gushan Temple to rest and drink. After taking a sip of the finest Longjing tea, I suddenly felt refreshed and refreshed. Soon the sun gently lifted up the fog with its silky light. The fog seemed reluctant to leave the West Lake, lingering and curling softly. The light dispersed.
Several early warblers flew back and forth in the distance, stopped on the trees, and flew up again, as if they were fighting for territory. The birds that had won the good territory stopped. The trees sang happily, and their melodious songs filled the valley and the lakeside. Swallows also flew from the south, holding mud in their mouths and building their own houses under the eaves.
< p> I walked gently by the lake, fearing to disturb the little insects that had just woken up on the shore. The grass broke out of the ground and the flowers bloomed.The bees were busy collecting nectar and pollinating among the flowers. Flying around, leaving behind busy figures, the butterflies on the side looked relaxed and relaxed, dancing in pairs, playing hide-and-seek among the flowers, and resting on the petals when they were tired. I flapped my wings and got into another flower.
The flowers were so bright that they fascinated me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The fragrance of the flowers was pleasant and refreshing. Dew reminds me of the poem "The grass looks distant but there is no grass"
What I like most is the rows of green white embankments in the east of the lake, which are shaded by green poplars and green willows. The weeping willows are spreading their branches and leaves in the breeze, and the green grass in the green areas is also lying quietly.
It is an elegant and quiet scene. "Spring on the lake is like a painting. Chaos peaks surround the horizontal pavement.
The surface of Songpai Mountain is covered with thousands of greens, and the moon is dotted with a pearl in its heart. "As described in this poem, West Lake is like poetry, painting, and song.
Oh, West Lake, you are the poem that intoxicates me, you are the painting that fascinates me, You are the song that makes me unforgettable. 5. On June 27th, the poem written in the Wanghu Tower while drunk in the second volume of the fifth grade of the People's Education Press was rewritten into a composition describing the scene
Summer is here, the weather is coming. It was very hot. In the Hangzhou government office, I, Su Shi, was worried about business. The heat made me restless, which made it worse. Suddenly, I remembered something: "Wanghu Tower is a local place." Daming Tower, why don’t I go and have a drink to relieve my worries? "Thinking of this, I turned from worry to joy and immediately came to Wanghu Tower.
As soon as I stepped upstairs, I met the waiter. He greeted me with a smile and invited me to a table. Next to the window. I sat down and said, "Waiter, bring the wine and dishes!" "Okay!" "The guy agreed, and after he got down, it was quickly arranged. I poured a glass of wine and drank it. Then I ate a few pieces of food and put down my chopsticks.
I looked out the window and saw the West Lake. It was as level as a mirror, and occasionally there was a gust of wind, which was really cool. I drank several glasses of wine to "drain my sorrows"!
It's really a "June day," said the child's face. Change will change. "I had just finished those few glasses of wine when a strong wind blew over me, and a flash of joy flashed in my heart: It's going to rain! Sure enough, black clouds appeared in an instant. At first, they were just patches of dark clouds, not covering the top of the mountain, but In the blink of an eye, the sky turned black, like spilled ink spilled on the sky. White raindrops fell immediately, like pearls, jumping randomly into the fishing boats on the lake, and ripples appeared on the lake. I turned around and saw that the people upstairs were terrified and worried about not being able to go home, but I clapped my hands and laughed: "Good rain! What a timely rain! "I stared at the raindrops outside the window excitedly. The rain was hitting the ground in a thin puddle, as big as a soybean grain. "It's so cool! "I happily drank another dozen glasses of wine.
But as the saying goes: "Heavy rain comes and goes quickly." "Suddenly, a strong wind blew up from the ground. After the wind passed, the rain was also blown away. After the rain, the sky cleared, and a rainbow hung on the horizon. I was even more surprised, nature is so wonderful! I leaned over and looked out the window, The West Lake and the sky were connected. I drank a few glasses of wine to show that I was very happy.
At this time, I was drunk, so I asked the guy to bring me a pen and paper, and I wrote vigorously. I wrote "Drunken Book at Wanghu Tower on June 27th":
Black clouds rolled over the mountains, and white raindrops jumped into the boat.
The ground wind suddenly blew. Scattered, the water below the building looking at the lake is like the sky.
Chen Anhao 6. Have you ever rewritten an ancient poem about scenery into a composition?
Original text
Author: Bai Juyi
p>Spring trip to Qiantang Lake
North of Gushan Temple and west of Jiating, the water surface is initially flat and the clouds are low
In several places, early orioles compete for warmth in the trees, and new swallows peck at each house. Spring mud.
The flowers are becoming more and more charming, and the grass is not covered with horseshoes.
My favorite lake is eastward, with the white sand bank in the shade of green poplars.
Adapted from "Spring Trip to Qiantang Lake"
Spring is really here, the sun is shining warmly on me, I stretch, it's time to go out and do some activities
The fog is shrouded outside. The earth envelops the houses and also the people who come to do morning exercises by the West Lake. Climbing up the lonely mountain, the cool breeze blows away, sweeping away the fatigue of winter and bringing the vitality of spring.
The trees shade each other. "If you want to compare the West Lake to the West, it's always better to dress it up more heavily." Looking at it, I looked away and saw that the West Lake was so vast and empty. The water ripples like a mirage, visible and invisible at times. Sitting in the Gushan Temple, taking a rest and drinking a sip of fine Longjing tea, I felt refreshed and refreshed.
Soon the sun gently lifted up the fog with its wisps of silky light. The fog seemed reluctant to leave the West Lake, lingering and gently drifting away. In the distance, several early warblers were flying around chirping, stopping on the trees, and then flying up again, as if they were competing for territory. The birds that had won a good territory sat on the trees and sang happily, with melodious songs. Sprinkled all over the valley and lakeside. Swallows also flew from further south, holding mud in their mouths and building their own houses under the eaves.
I walked gently by the lake, fearing to disturb the little insects on the shore that had just woken up. The grass breaks out of the ground and the flowers bloom. Bees are busy collecting nectar for pollination, flying around among the flowers, leaving behind their busy figures. The butterflies on the side looked relaxed and at ease, dancing in pairs, playing among the flowers, playing hide and seek. When they were tired, they rested on the petals, and then flapped their wings and got into another flower. The flowers were so bright that they fascinated my eyes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The fragrance of the flowers was pleasant and refreshing. The color of grass is beginning to show in the distance, which reminds me of the poem "the color of grass looks far away but is not there".
What I like most is the Baidi in the east of the lake, which is shaded by green poplars and willows. The rows of green weeping willows on the Baidi stretch their branches and leaves in the breeze, and the willow branches flutter; the green grass in the green spaces also lies quietly. What an elegant and quiet scene.
"Spring on the lake is like a painting, with chaotic peaks surrounding it. The mountain surface is covered with thousands of green pine trees, and the moon is dotted with a pearl in the center of the wave." As described in this poem, the West Lake is like poetry and painting. , Like a song. Oh, West Lake, you are the poem that intoxicates me, you are the painting that fascinates me, and you are the song that I will never forget. 7. A 400~500-word rewrite of what you see in ancient poetry
——A rewrite of what you see 1
In the evening of summer, when the sun sets in the west, the rays of light on the horizon are no longer so bright. Dazzling, soft and beautiful they are. The red sun is like the blushing face of a little girl. The clouds in the sky are colorful, fiery red, golden, silver gray, resembling fairy silk. Wisps of residual light shine on the sparkling lake, flickering like a layer of broken gold.
In the field, looking around, there is a lush green field. The rice ears are bent over, and a breeze blows, and they dance happily. On the country roads beside the fields, the small wild flowers are colorful, red, yellow, pink... extremely bright. The large branches are lush and leafy, which can block the torture of the scorching sun. The rivers are winding, the water is crystal clear, and groups of small fish are jumping back and forth. Smoke curls from the kitchen, and every household is cooking.
A crisp and sweet singing voice came. It turned out to be a swarthy, leisurely and contented little shepherd boy. He wears a straw hat and a red coat, and has a pair of big, clever eyes. He was riding on the back of the bull, his little muddy feet dangling casually. The old scalper mooed, as if accompanying the little shepherd boy! A burst of cicada chirping reached the little shepherd boy's ears, and his singing stopped suddenly. He gently pulled the rope, and the old scalper stopped. The little shepherd boy searched around with his clever eyes, and suddenly a cicada appeared in front of him. in sight. The little shepherd boy jumped off the cow's back in surprise and was ready to catch the cicada. The poet Yuan Mei saw this interesting scene. When he returned home, he picked up his pen and wrote this ancient poem "What He Sees" that has been passed down to this day:
The shepherd boy rides the ox, and his singing shakes the forest. He wanted to catch the chirping cicada, but suddenly he stood up with his mouth closed.
——What I saw in the ancient poem was rewritten into composition 2
It was a summer evening. The fiery red sun had hidden behind the mountains, and the clouds dyed the sky red. The clouds cleared, the fishermen rocked their boats, called it a day and went home.
At this time, a crisp singing sound came from the depths of the trees. How loud and clear this singing sound was! I saw a shepherd boy riding an old ox coming over. You see, he is wearing a golden bamboo hat, a pair of big black eyes, and a bright smile on his chubby little face. He is sitting on the back of the cow, and his little feet are swinging happily, looking like So lively and cute. The old scalper cried "moo", seeming to be praising the shepherd boy for his beautiful song!
The shepherd boy was singing happily when a crisp chirping of cicadas came from a nearby willow tree. The sound of cicadas interrupted the shepherd boy's beautiful and loud singing. He stopped singing and listened carefully.
The shepherd boy's desire to catch cicadas arose spontaneously. He patted the scalper and pointed at the cicada on the tree. The old scalper understood the idea and carefully approached the cicada with slow speed and gentle steps. near.
Close, close, only one step away from the cicada. But the cicada has not felt the danger yet, and still shows off its beautiful singing voice "knowingly". The shepherd boy slowly stood up from the cow's back, and gently approached the cicada with his hands. It was too late, but soon, the shepherd boy put his hands forward, and the cicada made a "squeak" sound, and it became the treasure of the shepherd boy.
The shepherd boy jumped off the cow's back with a "chirp", exposed his hands to a thin slit, and said with a smile: "Hahaha, who asked you to compete with me in singing, now you will suffer!" How could the cicada of the time just surrender and give up? It kept shouting and struggling in the hands of the shepherd boy, but even so, it was still to no avail.
The shepherd boy smiled, jumped onto the back of the cow, and started on his way home.