Beautifully written prose
Literary translation is an art, in which the translator uses another appropriate and natural language to reproduce the artistic image and artistic style of the original text. Beautiful prose is Reflect another artistic conception. I have carefully collected beautifully written prose for everyone to enjoy and study!
A collection of beautifully written prose: If you live well, nothing can be better
That year we were sixteen or seventeen. Youthful years, green and ignorant.
You are a tall, handsome boy. You are very smart, but you are very playful. There were many girls who liked you at that time, and I was one of them. I am a girl who only knows how to read books from sages. I am traditional, shy, well-behaved and sensible.
You are very playful. When everyone is actively preparing for the college entrance examination, you are still as cool as the wind, drifting by on campus. Sometimes I don’t see you for a few days and go to class. Sometimes I hear which girl you are good with. .
You bet your youth on tomorrow. You squandered your youth and lost the bright future you should have had. While I study hard, I quietly watch you and feel sorry for you. But I couldn't say anything or do anything, because it was a traditional era and I was still a shy person.
I have always thought you were a cynical, bohemian person. But that night changed my perspective.
In the self-study class that night, a classmate told me that someone was looking for you. I came out and saw that it was you. You took me to the wall outside the school gate, and you pressed me against the wall with your face. It smells faintly of wine when I touch it.
A collection of beautifully written prose: Every life can be fragrant
The fragrant wind slides through the hair, the birds chirping in the ears, and the red flowers play in front of the eyes. , the green grass is stirring under the feet, spring returns to the earth, and everything revives. It turns out that these common scenery around us can be so beautiful, so harmonious, and so fascinating. Maybe it is because of the too fast pace of life that we have overlooked something, right? Maybe the advanced entertainment facilities have blinded our eyes? So much so that we have even turned a blind eye to such a generous gift from nature! I am honored to read the book "Every Life Can Be Fragrant". I can settle my frivolous and fast-paced thoughts, return to the original tranquility, examine my life, and enjoy a different kind of beauty.
Waiting like a flower
The only reason for success is "hands higher than head", actions are far greater than ideals. We must find our own direction and position, and we must root the roots of life into the thick soil. If we omit the soil, we may survive for a while, but we will never let the tree of life stay green. Slow success is actually a kind of happiness. The biggest secret to success is to persevere to the end. For example, Qi Baishi painted shrimps, Xu Beihong painted horses, and Huang Zhou painted donkeys. These great people who only did one thing and let hundreds of flowers miss them, truly make us admire them. The flowers in Harbin, the spring city, can bloom overnight. All you need to do is calm down, wait slowly, and when the time is right, bloom collectively to avoid frostbite. King Gou Jian of Yue was willing to work as an ox or a horse for King Wu Fu Cha, relying on perseverance and endurance. May we maintain a good attitude, wait like flowers, and lay a solid foundation for success!
The happiness you don’t know
The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, Dong Yong’s Seven Fairies in heaven and earth are poignant and beautiful the love story of White Snake and Xu Xian and the lingering demon; the generous and tragic love story of Xiang Yu and Yu Ji; the love story of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai who both turned into butterflies. For thousands of years, love has always been the focus of poets, writers, painters, directors, etc. Material loved by people from all walks of life. Perfect love can always touch the softest part of our hearts and make us happy. “Spring silkworms will not run out of silk until they die, and wax torches will turn to ashes before their tears dry up.” “Life is precious, but love is more valuable.” “The farthest distance in the world is not between life and death, but when I stand in front of you, but you are "I don't know I love you." If the world loses love, how many years will our civilization retreat! How monotonous our lives will be!
Love is beautiful, and what is more beautiful than love is yearning. its heart. Life is so fragile, and love is most afraid of being too late, so when you can love, you must love each other twice as much. When lovers are overwhelmed by happiness, it is often the most ordinary greetings. Small details in love life can often bring people unexpected happiness. Love is like a lock. If you don't use it, even the original key won't be able to open it. Use is the truest and deepest love. Don’t forget that being needed by the other person is also a happy thing! Happiness is around you, but it may be too plain and ignored by us? Grasp the little happiness in life that you don’t know yet, and add points to each other’s sweet life! May love make you richer and more beautiful
Open a flower of your own for others
Admiring one's flowers alone and waiting silently for them to wither will inevitably lead to regrets and boredom. Open a flower of your own for others, and many strange hearts will come close to your heart; open a flower of your own for others, and the spring light will settle in your stamens. Just like the lilies in Lin Qingxuan's works, the blossoms continue to spread and expand, and finally become the Lily Valley where lovers stop. Open a flower of your own for others, and you may get a beautiful big garden. When you have received the warmth of someone else's love, and life teaches you how to turn this warmth into a torch to illuminate other people, don't forget that this is the highest reward for love in life. Goodwill and sincerity are the cleansers of life. Only when you have it can you feel the warmth and beauty, have no shade, and get sunshine and good luck.
Use a sincere heart to help others, and your life will be more glorious, away from loneliness and coldness. Bloom for others and bring rich fragrance to yourself! Helping others will make our "people" taller, firmer and richer
If you can't dance, just play the piano
It is said , this is the favorite epitaph of all British people: "If you can't dance, just play the piano. If you can't play the piano, sing. If you can't sing, just listen. Let your heart sing happily in love. When the heartbeat stops, your soul will be between heaven and earth. Keep dancing." The beautiful little girl did not give up in the face of the pain, and brought different happiness to her friends at the birthday party in different ways. No matter how beautiful the past is, it should not become a constraint or a rope in the pursuit of a better future. Just like a dandelion, blowing away the dreamy whiteness, it is actually withering as a flower. When God closes a door for us, he must also leave a window for us. Life has tragedies and comedies, failures and successes, pains and joys. You can't just open a window and see only one side of the scenery. "There is no way out, but there is no way out." When encountering setbacks, think of heroes like Vujicic, Liu Wei, and Helen Keller! We might as well turn a corner and change our thinking. We are still happy. Yes, if you can't dance, just play the piano. We can still live a perfect and happy life.
Go away from the fast food culture and calm down and read some sweet articles with your heart! Enjoy swimming in the ocean of books and strolling in the paradise of books! Let the fragrance of flowers float into your mouth Inside the house; let the first rays of the sun shine through every corner of your body; let the author and your loving soul collide violently and find your soul mate; let good books wash your soul and enhance your ideological realm. Correct your cognition and enjoy the beauty of reading!
Beautifully written collection of essays: The past is a hangover
At midnight, under the cool moonlight, flying My thoughts flow through time and space with the familiar melody, and in the tiles deep in my memory, I touch the green grass covered with dust from time to time, and the chaotic tips of the grass reveal the traces of lingering thoughts over the years. Sighing at the depths of time, the footprints along the way and the stories that I have devoted my body and mind to perform are all fading away in the world of mortals.
Pull off the wax seal deep in my mind, and wisps of sweet and sour agarwood appear before my eyes. Those flames extinguished in the depths of the world of mortals are still left with curling smoke clouds rising, dreamlike clouds and smoke, playing with the strings of memories.
No matter how full and round the real life is, there is always a slight gap in my mind, showing an old movie that can no longer be played smoothly. That year, that day, that scene, that heart, that emotion , all reappear in intermittent images. The movie player lost control at some point. The mute button failed and the pause button failed. No matter whether we are willing to face it or not, we cannot stop playing those scenes.
I have traveled through thousands of mountains and rivers, experienced countless prosperous times, experienced career troughs, and accepted love setbacks. I have had many prides and many humblenesses, as well as those who are reckless, hasty, naive, and Mature, calm and calm moments, one plot per day, one story along the way, each chapter are superimposed on the journey of life, turning the past years into a variety of charming memories.
Silent nights, lonely moments, thanks to those past events that we chew on over and over again, time becomes less boring. Because of the bitter and sweet memories, the quiet time has a rich charm. It seems to be prosperous like the sea, like the orioles singing in the green willows, like thousands of mountains with daisy in their eyes. The moonlight in front of the window has traveled through countless circles. Turning around, the locked diary opened to the past again. Light a cigarette, sip a glass of wine, and when you are slightly drunk, those thoughts that have been buried deeply will sprout from the ground and bloom into a fragrant flower.
I once emptied my whole body for a vigorous love; I once wasted my youth for a great dream; I once went through fire and water for something that I thought was very meaningful, and I always thought that youth was a waste. With so much capital, I always thought that the sky was high and the sea was vast enough for me to ride on. However, sometimes no matter how many steps you take, you can't step into the city of your dreams. Regret becomes the most beautiful arc in your life.
Perhaps, the regrets in life can arouse the interest of the cerebral cortex more than those perfect stories. It does not even require any pictures and music to create an atmosphere. Unknowingly, it makes people feel... I sank into it for the first time, wishing to continue the chapters over and over again for those out-of-print chapters that have long been broken. If we had not rubbed shoulders at the time, if we had not been careless at the time, if we had slowly added sugar and water to those bitter things little by little, , add every seasoning that suits our taste, the frown slowly relaxes, and the pursed lips smile. If possible, I believe no one is willing to get out of the intoxication created by themselves.
Perhaps, it is precisely because of this kind of intoxication that memories occupy our time so tyrannically. During morning exercises, under the bright moon, we would rather not let the beautiful scenery of a good time go by in vain than have anything to do with today. Say goodbye to the past. As time goes by, our lives are filled with stories step by step. Time has gone far away, but it has left long memories dotting the days and nights of life. There will always be moments in the sunrises and sunsets in the ordinary fireworks. , entwining my heart; on those smooth roads, there is always a scenery lingering in front of me.
Sometimes, I feel depressed and lose my vision for the future, but I can't let go of the memories of the past.
A person's life is constantly building, building a skyscraper, building a mountain that reaches into the clouds, building a slope, or building a sand dune, no matter what height your life is ultimately built at. , no matter whether your life is a gorgeous building or a simple one, admirable or stained, when you look back and look down at the past, every brick, every tile, every plant and every tree will be clearly seen. . Those who were once confused and confused will suddenly become enlightened, and those who are proud and happy will light up their smiles again.
Flowers bloom for a season and wither, and snow falls and melts for a while. However, those past events in life that are like colorful flowers will always be enchanting in the memory, and those that are like adding insult to injury will always be bleak. And those people who we never forget have long been strangers to each other, and those things that burned our hearts have long been light and calm. A period of time has long separated the past and the present into two worlds, but those related memories are like glass, so Smooth and transparent, will not fade over time.
The calendar turns over page after page, the moon in Tamsui River is full and missing, gardenias bloom season after season, the past concentration, the past ruthlessness, the past no hesitation, the past I turned around decisively, the sleepless nights, the confusion, those truths, those obsessions, those intoxicating moments have gradually faded away, but in my mind, they are so vague and so clear.
Beautiful Prose Collection
Beautiful Prose Collection
Beautiful Prose Collection. Prose generally describes typical scenery and expresses reflections on something you see. Then express the deep experience and feeling of something or a certain scenery. Below is a selection of beautiful prose collections that I have carefully prepared for you. You are welcome to read and refer to them.
Beautiful Prose Collection 1
Beautiful Prose 1
Bodhi leaves are dancing in late autumn,
The blue waves are dyed white by the dawn cold.
Looking at each other in a dream locked in a red building,
A glass of turbid wine will relieve a thousand sorrows.
True decadence turns into sadness.
At that time, decadence had not yet become a fashion, and a lively debate on the humanistic spirit had just ended in the cultural circle. Mainly in the face of an increasingly materialistic modern society, when the original ideas When the spiritual support continues to collapse, people begin to feel confused and confused about tomorrow and themselves. At that time, scholars were having serious and heated discussions, but the children on the street stared blankly at the crowds and traffic on the street, walked through the intersection indifferently, and melted into the crowd.
I am also one of them. Sitting in the corner, looking at the person in front of me, smiling lazily. Unknowingly, the ashes of the city, as well as frustration, helplessness, curse and resistance were integrated into life. I was eighteen years old that year. I don't love anyone. I feel old. I often sit on the roadside and watch the sunset. People say I look decadent.
Nowadays, even in rock music, there are very few songs that directly resist social changes and directly describe decadent and indulgent life. Is it because people are no longer confused and afraid of change? People rush towards money with great enthusiasm. The debate quickly became a thing of the past and few people still remember it. We no longer doubt that change will bring about any bad direction, we happily accept all fresh changes, so decadence has become a way of life and even fashion today. Bars, rock and roll, indulgence, everything that marks alternativeness has become fashionable.
When I was 18 years old, I was a young man who was confused and indulged in the city, and was helpless in pain. So now I only have a mind like a weed and a more confusing struggle with the subtle relationships between people. There is no more power from the past, no more doubt, no more confusion, no more heart.
Entanglements and conflicts between people hurt each other. This is where we are lost. We are all fighting. We are exploring happiness and traps in boredom. Everything is so helpless and desperate. Decadence begins to weaken here and loses the power of change. We don’t even have a direction to escape, so what else do we have? Painful?
True decadence turns into sadness.
Beautiful Prose 2
This is the time of winter rain.
God gave us snow, but we chose rain.
The winter rain knocked tirelessly on my window for three days and three nights. It was as thin as silk, as dense as a net, and as thick as smoke. This is not winter in the north. It is clearly March in the south of the Yangtze River. I am drunk. The yellow willows were drunk on the green embankment, fattened by the pond water, and lost weight in lovesickness. I don’t know whose eyes this dripping winter rain wetted. I saw it tightly covering the highway in North China and forcing the flights at the Capital Airport to stop. The travelers were anxiously waiting, and happily kicked their feet in the embrace of the North China Plain.
This is a real winter rain, a long-lost heavy rain in early winter. It was once vivid in the memory of many years ago, dripping on the thin neck of the open collar of the cotton-padded jacket. It was cool, so cool; it got into the girl's fluffy braid, and was as smooth as touching hair oil. , the young man shook his head and sent up pieces of water mist, it was so refreshing, so refreshing; it also unknowingly soaked into the white sneakers with exposed holes and stuck to the soles of the feet together with the smelly socks, it was annoying, it was really annoying . The rain is still blocking the sand-paved road where we went to school, it is wet in the books that we will never finish reading, and it penetrates from the cold branches to the depths of the roots of winter wheat.
The winter rain in front of us makes the city and the asphalt road more beautiful and cleaner. The wheels whispering with the road as they move forward at a constant speed. The rising water splashes seem to give the car wings to fly, and the wipers are busy. The ground waved its long arms, don’t panic, why not wait. On the sidewalk, an elderly couple was walking, holding hands, wearing thick winter clothes and an elegant flower umbrella. It seemed that they were just walking, and the car was light. Sliding past them, he cast a warm and envious look at them. The road is filled with traffic taking children to school. The large schoolbags on the children's backs and the colorful raincoats form a moving scene of rainy scenes in Hong Kong City in the early morning.
How much I want to relax at such a moment and walk on the beach in the rain. It was the place where I worked for more than ten years. In the grand planning of the port city and in the hands of the hard-working Lanshan people, In less than a year, a leisure, entertainment, commercial and residential, and high-end business park covering an area of ??tens of thousands of acres has been vacated. The sculpture of a tall white sailboat looks towards the Pacific Ocean in the distance. Tourists from all over the world come to watch the sunset on the Yellow Sea. The nameless town on the shore is waiting to rise, and the blue Haizhou Bay has unlimited business opportunities.
The light rain is "rustling". This is the moment of winter rain. Isn't it also the moment when the people of Lanshan concentrate their efforts to speed up development?
Beautiful Prose 3
I like reading poetry, whether it is Chinese or foreign, ancient or modern. In terms of style, whether it is bold or delicate, whether it is romantic or realistic, I still love reading it. Because I believe that poetry is the embodiment of the soul and spirit of nature, poetry is the rhythm of society, and poetry is the expression of true feelings of human ideology. I like poetry, I like reading poetry, and over time, I also like to practice writing poetry. I have studied and written ancient poetry, metrical poetry, lyrics, music, and new poetry. Although I didn't write well, I still wrote and tried.
In terms of techniques, I wanted to try all the expressionist, representational, hazy and absurdist humor schools. After trying it, I used all the previous realm theory and artistic conception theory, as if Some are spiritual and some are not. In the end, I believe that poetry does not come out of thin air or from books, but comes from the life of the fields and the wind, rain and almond blossoms.
Having said this, I will test it with a few poems about the life of miners. "The Love of Miner's Wife" writes about things around us, that is, the unique life in the mining area. It embodies the eagerness of a miner's wife for the safe return of her husband from work. It reproduces the uneasiness of the wife in anticipation. The heart-wrenching waiting makes the wife with beautiful feelings sometimes restless, sometimes leaning against the door and waiting, sometimes looking from a high place and so on.
Perhaps what is waiting is a newlywed young woman. They have just been married and their passion for love has not subsided. What is waiting may be a mature sister-in-law. Her elders have gone to visit the neighbor's house because of family ties. Her children are studying hard in school. The only support for the family is her man, who is working hard underground.
Beautiful Prose Collection 2
Selected Collection of Beautiful Prose: My Years, My Book of Laughter and Forgetting
Opening the window, a burst of coldness rushed to me Come here, I inadvertently recalled yesterday. Someone told me that tomorrow is the beginning of winter. Only then did I realize that winter was approaching.
However, I haven’t properly sorted out some old things, and I haven’t had a good chat with some old friends. At this time, I sit at the desk again, not knowing what else to record, and I don’t know what else I can do. Asking who, it’s just that day after day, it’s another desolate season of the year.
I remember last night, I returned to the dormitory very late, and I was walking on the cross street with my friends. Except for the occasional sound of the car engine, there was nothing else. I thought there would be no third person at that time. Knowing what I am doing, or looking for something else, maybe they don't understand, just like we don't understand what the cars speeding on the road are busy with.
I just want to say that in the busy life, we may not be able to truly understand each other. Perhaps, inadvertently, we will speed away like a car, leaving only a tragic failure. The lonely leaf said goodbye on the eve of early winter.
Sometimes, it really feels like time flies very fast, and it’s just a passing time, and it’s the end of the year; sometimes, it feels like time is very slow, wishes and longings, and even a good thing, no matter how time goes by Change always refuses to come. Knocking lightly on the door of the passing years, standing on the lintel of the year and looking back, yesterday's wind, today's song, although the past cannot be returned, the reflection of time is playing the strings in my heart.
But such emotion is still a pale wait after all. Under the canopy, there is always some vague sadness in the memory. I want to mention it, but I can’t find the beginning. I want to forget it, but I can’t find it. To the dividing line between love and hate. In this way, countless lingering dreams were staged, which made people happy and worried.
In the years, who and who can never finish their dreams, only in this season, the coldness is no longer surging, maybe after three or two years, it will become an insignificant past, clouds come and go. , origin and destiny, those who want to come will eventually come, and those who want to leave will eventually leave.
And today, as I sit on such a period of time, I think of what Bai Luomei said. If a person remembers the agreement in the previous life, even if a person travels through mountains and rivers and goes through countless hardships in this life, They will also wait at the intersection, waiting to meet each other.
In fact, longing always grows quietly in invisible places. After many years, who will remember me and who will I remember? Yes, I have never thought about it. Time always goes by. In front of us, we put the remaining stories behind our memories, and we later became those batches of belated actors, outlining the process of growth.
A dreamy souvenir is gently blown on the desk. The light footsteps are still on the road of chasing. The vague prosperity passes by, and in the end there is not much time left to calm down.
Time flies by like water. Have we all forgotten the existence of that year? That’s why we regret it painfully in this season. In fact, it’s okay to pass the years. Open my heart, even if it contains the vicissitudes of the world, I think I will still comfort the past and gently leave a beautiful turn.
In a blink of an eye, the seasons change like this, and the song of growth seems to have not been finished yet. In this distant and unfamiliar city, only when everything slows down can we appreciate the flowers blooming and falling on the road. . On this road, I am experiencing my own ups and downs
No one can repeat my book of laughter and forgetfulness, and no one can tell me about it. In this winter, I make a cup of coffee and read through it. , in Tantan, it is experience and it is also life.
Are there any beautiful collections of essays?
"Beautiful Moonlight Brave Heart" by Jingwei
The dusk has not yet faded, and I can already vaguely see the gentle breeze. The moon climbing up into the sky shows her charming and mysterious silhouette in the pink of the fire clouds, secretly looking at the departing sun. Dragonflies flew across the sky in groups, and crickets and frogs also sang to each other in the distance, indicating that the night was coming, aha, yes, the night was coming...
The curtain of night slowly fell, and the moon looked at the sun in despair as the last ray of afterglow disappeared on the last hilltop. The stars were no longer afraid at this time, one, two, hundreds or thousands were printed on the black and blue sky, all over the world. In the sky, only the moon is the brightest. Stars are densely packed in the sky that people can see and the farthest point from the ground. The bright moon is in the sky. The moon cares for every child who admires her, giving her infinite care and will be full of happiness. The moonlight is scattered on the earth, on the windowsills of thousands of houses, and on the face of every sleeping child... The moon is lonely, the stars only care about themselves playing, and only the clouds accompany her, like clothes. The poignant moon knows that she is just a small star in the vast universe.
When the moon was dozing off and dreaming as usual, the rooster croaked, the morning light was faint, and the east was bright. The stars quickly grabbed the moon's clouds and ran to the west. The moon looked at the east reluctantly and left in angrily. How she was I want to see the sun’s brilliance! However, their fate is to be separated forever...
The frog and the cricket were also stunned. They stopped playing cat and mouse games with each other...
Because the moon broke free from the shackles of the stars and tried hard to get close to the sun. The impulse that had been dormant for thousands of years finally awakened in the moon's determination to abandon everything! She went against the sky and rushed towards the sun...
Gradually... gradually... the stars... the crickets... the frogs were stunned, and they opened their eyes wide. The moon can no longer be seen, she burns in the hot embrace of the sun... and ends with a smile... From then on, the moon is no longer lonely, only the lost and lonely look of the sun is left...