A poem praising hometown: homesickness.
I left the country that spring.
Wandering in the distance with dreams
Say goodbye to the blue sky and attachment.
Snow covered the long streets this winter.
People are coming and going in the noisy streets.
I feel a little confused.
Have you heard of a place?
It can make people forget the sorrow.
My hometown. That's my hometown.
Endless mountains, my dream hometown.
Gehua is full of mountain fragrance.
The clear river flows slowly, nourishing the growth of the earth.
Quiet and serene village, my dear hometown
How kind those hardworking and brave people are.
That gentle and kind girl always sings softly.
A poem praising hometown: "I love my hometown"
Today, the weather is sunny. In a good mood.
As the season enters late autumn, people begin to prepare for changing seasons.
In autumn, Chinese cabbage grows well and potatoes are full.
Peppers hung on the branches and leaves look very eye-catching.
People walking on the road are in a hurry,
It is not difficult to see that this is a busy season.
Country people, the characteristics of life are obviously the characteristics of the four seasons.
Unlike cities, the streets are full of cars and people.
During the break, you can take your wife and children to shopping malls and cinemas.
Watch a lovely movie and go to the ballroom for a cheerful dance.
There are tourists from all over the city all year round, what strange things,
Will taste all kinds, mysterious, often * * or riots.
This is not an imaginary paradise, but the country, the air,
Houses are clean and tidy, flowers and plants are full of fresh soil,
Without a trace of artificial carving,
A big yard of several hundred square meters can be galloped and handsome.
The paradise pursued by the elderly is here.
This city is a paradise for young people and a base for great achievements.
Everyone wants to go there to gild and develop their IQ.
So, this generation saves money for the next generation,
Let them leave their hometown, their old house and run to their ideal paradise!
Take out hard savings and support the new forces.
There is only one purpose, so that the next generation can leave the soil that has been cultivated for a lifetime!
Parents need to prepare a garage for their children.
Simple charity, broad mind.
Their strong growth is their own hope!
I like the old house in my hometown. On summer nights, I fall asleep listening to frogs.
I fell in love with the soil and water in my hometown, cool as milk and in great health!
Rich people don't like the noise in the crowd and spend a lot of money on villas.
Leave the crowd and noise, create a unique spectacle, facing the mountains and facing the water.
But I love such a quiet and spacious old home alone.
Let the joys and sorrows, joys and sorrows spread the fragrance of every inch of land.
My hometown is the root of my life and the source of my feelings.
The Garden of Eden, which depends on life and death, stands hand in hand in the square with flying thoughts!
A poem praising hometown: homesickness.
Rain-drenched shrubs are as green as rivers,
The scorching sun is like maple red.
Chrysanthemum fragrance is cold,
When the snow drifts, the hometown is sad.
A poem praising hometown: homesickness.
Walking in the midsummer dusk
Step on the lush grass
Butterflies are flying
Cicadas are singing and Xia Meng is swaying.
The old waterwheel beside the Yellow River creaked and twisted.
It's from Shu Ting's poem.
The deep voice of history
The village of childhood abandoned a little joy of childhood.
The creeper in the corner has climbed over the wall.
Entanglement, take the hot summer into your arms.
The slope in front of the door
Where there are footprints, it is barren.
It seems that it is not only that slope that is barren.
What else is there?
I just remember it clearly.
Those joys are locked in a long-lost pit.
But I-
Still love this place
I like working in the sunshine in the morning.
The sparrow jumped over the treetops.
Children's laughter, floating in the yard.
What could be more desirable than this?
Envy, butterflies fly from that distant place.
Fly to distant places again.
With heavy steps, I can only crawl on country roads.
I can't leave this sad place.
perhaps
Love one thing without reason.
A moment, an action, a look.
In the end, it will be a belief and a pursuit.
A poem praising hometown: I can't miss my hometown.
The wind is blowing hard.
The tranquility of the village head at night
The messy bamboo leaves were driven to curl up into a ball.
The rain washed away.
Enter schools, mountains, cities
A winding and rugged country road
early morning
Dewdrops are naughty and sway on the leaves of peach trees.
Grandpa Sun also stretched himself.
The faint sunshine warmed the whole village.
The wind stopped and the rain stopped.
The peach blossom opened and the sun smiled.
This village is full of vitality.
People turn old bamboo leaves into smoke.
Send away their dancing souls.
Black tears, dripping on the tiles covered with green shirts.
The path washed by rain reveals lovely teeth.
The creaking sound of buckets pounded their eardrums.
A group of school children are covered with thick foundation with soles.
Dress up their wet hearts in the morning
I miss the rain in my hometown and the bamboo forest behind my house.
Miss the second mother's warm palm; Miss grandpa's long beard
Miss the path in front of the door; Miss the old pillars engraved with my growth marks.
Miss the peach trees in my hometown; Miss that steaming well.
Cocks crow, bellows accompany, cattle and sheep flock.
Singing folk songs, carrying hoes and reading aloud.
Silent rain lane,
Let my thoughts flow.
Let's get back to this matter. After years of local customs.
Everything is so familiar and warm.