In our daily life, we often see the figure of composition, through which we can gather our scattered thoughts together. There are many points for attention in composition. Are you sure you can write? The following are the lyrics of "Wind and Wheat Waves" compiled by Bian Xiao, hoping to help everyone.
The wind that shakes barley
Singing: Li Jian, Sun Li
Under the blue sky in the distance
The golden wheat waves surged in.
You and I are right there.
The place I love.
When the breeze smells of harvest
Blow it in my face
Think of your gentle words
Used to wet my eyes.
Mm-hmm. We used to sing in the fields.
Looking forward to winter
But I can't wait for the sun.
The scene of autumn
Let the once vows fly.
With west wind drift
I like your soft long hair.
Once fragrant, my dream land.
Uh-huh, uh-huh, under the blue sky in the distance.
The golden wheat waves surged in.
You and I are right there.
The place I love.
When the breeze smells of harvest
Blow it in my face
Think of your gentle words
Used to wet my eyes.
Mm-hmm. We used to sing in the fields.
Looking forward to winter
But I didn't wait until the sun came out.
This autumn scene
Let the once vows fly.
With west wind drift
I like your soft long hair.
Once fragrant, my dream land.
The wind blows the wheat waves and misses the prose and poetry of my hometown.
In the fields of my hometown, there are wheat seedlings blown by the wind.
Is brewing towards glory, my father's grindstone.
Get ready and see how to make the sickle extremely sharp.
And cuckoo is on the road, writing the lyrics of harvest.
However, the friction between the sickle and the oilstone
It should be full, like a spring rain.
Tears, salt diluted.
I'm going to hang up, waiting for the bitterness and salt in the soil.
Take root and sprout, and there will be a good harvest in the second year.
I must get the pomegranate pregnant and let the lotus write.
Summer thoughts, a dragonfly.
Stand above the wheat awn and share the wheat seedlings.
The joy of pregnancy, then, makes ladybugs.
Put on mother's flower scarf to cure wheat's lovesickness.
This is my gift to my hometown.
Can you hang this sickle high, please?
Besides the grindstone, there is also one of your eyes.
Have hinted that you have been ignorant and backward.
Get ready for the funeral so that the weeds won't cry.
In fact, I was an outcast in your previous life.
Adopted by a river, I am the tears you expect.
Slipping across your cheek, pulled by a green leaf.
I don't wander anymore, but now, I am.
The goose you let go is the fish you let go.
I thought of the wings of birds again.
I don't want to sink, I want to finish it once.
After a difficult trip, landing was acceptable to me.
Lotus is baptized, behind the sun.
There is a storm that will wet my returning wings.
Then let me ride the dandelion's thoughts.
Let's return together, but this is really coming.
What happened? I'll be there then.
On the river bank, I saw the wind blowing the wheat waves.
And the long-awaited shadow
That is the soul of the mother, waiting to be propped up.
The wings of the returning wanderer