Deciduous leaves come down to the root, which is a wanderer's dream. How many dreams, how many don't give up. Dear hometown, have you looked around? Looking for the past time? The beautiful seaside is my hometown, and my relatives and friends are very concerned about me.
I can't forget that, warm eyes dilute everything, and the world is cold. That familiar face makes me yearn for it, but I can't bear to go home.
Ah! Beautiful and simple home, my hometown full of dreams! Homesickness Yu Guangzhong was a small stamp when he was a child. When my mother grew up there, homesickness was a narrow ticket. I'm here and the bride is there. Later, homesickness became a temporary grave. I'm outside and my mother is inside. Homesickness is now a shallow strait. I am on this continent, at the end. Inscription of looking back: Buddha said: You have to look back 500 times to get a pass in this life. So, how many times do I have to look back before I can really live in your house? (-Xi Murong) In my last life, I looked back frequently, waved goodbye to my handkerchief and floated into the clouds. How many lovesickness and sadness have finally become water marks that have sent me away from this life. I'm looking for the lost footprints in my previous life and wading into your eyes. I looked back 500 times in my last life in exchange for a lost time in my life. I used a thousand times to look back for a stop in front of you. Ask Buddha: How many times do I have to look back before I can really live in your heart? You can only turn around frequently, like a moth to a fire, regardless of the consequences. I can look back a thousand times and ten thousand times for no reason. You are in my eyes, in my heart. I often look back and look forward to your gentleness. I recall my wish to be together in my last life. I look back at the lotus leaves on the boat and associate them with the sadness in my eyes. The Buddha in this life has made my thoughts come true. I've been looking for you for a long time, and I just want to stop in your arms. I just want you. Wipe the tears off my face with your hand. I just want your body temperature to warm my cold hands. Don't ask me why I have been looking for you all my life. I didn't drink Meng Po Tang. I'm worried about you. Don't ask me why I am crying. I didn't drink Meng Po Tang. I still remember the despair when I left in my last life. I cried with joy. Tears fall on your chest. All kinds of sorrows in previous lives have blossomed into a dense lilac. I just want to join hands with you under the tree and watch that flower blossom into five petals, predicting our happiness in this life. I still often look back on this life. I still don't drink Meng Po Tang in the afterlife. I will go to the afterlife from far away to find you. I will also hold hands with you to find a five-petal lilac tree. How did Xi Murong let you meet me at my most beautiful moment? For this reason, I have been studying Buddhism in front of the Buddha for 500 years, so let's form a dusty Buddha, and then turn me into a tree and grow in the sunshine on the roadside that you must pass. It was the hope of my past life when you approached. Please listen carefully to the trembling leaves, which is the passion I am waiting for. When you finally walk past those friends who have fallen behind you, it is not petals, but my dying homesickness. Tonight, my mother's hand shook off the stars for nine days, and the moon swayed in her hand. When I was a child tonight, I rode on the back of a cow and listened to my mother say: The moon is a silver flute, and the moon cake is the moon painted in the sky.
Reflected in the eyes. Tonight's teenager, standing by the old well, heard his mother say: the moon is a golden pulley, and the moon cake is the moon that falls at the bottom of the well.
Put your mouth in your heart. As a young man, I left my hometown with frivolous ambitions. My mother said: When you are homesick, take a flute and play a moonlight song in your hometown.
Tonight, the moonlight is like China, and the years are like China. I held the stars and the moon in my mother's hand, and her mother said, son, drink your hometown and come to your heart. Oh, this is a bowl of water in that old well.
Homesickness (prose poem) Christmas flowers are as red as blood, and the air in the city thousands of miles away becomes cold. In the morning, my mother's phone call and a few words of exhortation were old and warm, warming the frozen memory. The city is bustling and empty, full of vain happiness, but I am barren everywhere, looking for a strange sense of familiarity.
When your hand reached out, there were levels of pain and weakness I endured. You said it was time to go home.
Although it is bustling and noisy, it never belongs to us. The local accent curled up and tears flowed from my eyes.
No one wants to be like a wandering soul in a foreign land, which makes us miss our home so much. It is becoming more and more barren and decadent, like the sigh and tears of the old man. We are also high-spirited and arrogant.
But there is always an innate wound in my heart, which hurts when I touch it. Sadly, we grew up in the same land under the same blue sky, but that land has both advantages and disadvantages.
There is a pure sunny heart with a faint blue color. There is a pure happiness that supports the fatigue day after day.
Maybe everything will change when we grow up. If we see more clutches, our hearts will be as hard as iron. However, in the dark, silent, inch by inch, peeling off are missing bodies.
The path in front of the door, the bamboo forest behind the house. The early cock crows and the farmers go home at sunset.
The playmate next door, the boy at the same table. And ignorant and shy love.
Some things, after passing, leave traces and become years and memories. Although there is a little pain, it will be ignored occasionally, but it will never be forgotten.
Some emotions, like the simple feelings of teenagers, will show a faint blue color after experiencing a disaster. Your sadness lurks in the mottled shadow of the old house, and the grass is already sad all around.
The young face reflected in the pond is naive and happy. Now our hearts have flown too far.
I was disconnected. Inch by inch of pain
You said that even if life is evergreen, leaves will take root one day. On the way home.
We are together. There are many holy monks under the tree, and each flower is a Buddha.
Time has no shadow, water is silent and a leaf is wasted.
2. Looking up at the starry sky in modern homecoming poems.
I look up at the stars,
It is so vast and profound;
Infinite truth,
Let me pursue hard.
I look up at the stars,
It is so solemn and sacred;
Awesome justice,
Fill me with love and awe.
I look up at the stars,
It is so free and quiet;
That broad mind,
Let my heart perch and snuggle.
I look up at the stars,
It is so magnificent;
That eternal passion,
Let my heart light the flame of hope and spring thunder.
3. Praise hometown modern poems 1, "hometown beauty"
Sweet hometown water,
The most beautiful thing is the local accent.
Sweet water and beautiful local accent-
Better than jade liquid,
Just like Yue Xian on earth!
Wandering around the world alone.
2. Hometown
My hometown is in that beautiful place.
The pine trees all over the mountain are like a green ocean.
Float in the wind and dance.
The sound of pine trees sounds like a symphony.
The embrace of pine trees and pine trees is a symbol of unity.
Proudly tall and straight is the pillar of hometown
Surrounded by mountains, flowers are floating everywhere.
Beautiful scenery near the mountains and rivers
The river is sparkling.
It is even more brilliant to be shaded by trees.
Hometown haunted by dreams
You are my loveliest hometown
3. "Singing for my hometown"
You see, there are some wrinkles on the faces of hometown people.
But she is still young.
Who has the strength to work?
Just shout at the valley: hometown
She looks young, but she forgets many things.
Including one's own birth and marriage.
There are many rules in my hometown, and everything is balanced between yin and yang.
The only thing I don't talk about is qualifications.
Children and grandchildren are called by their first names.
She doesn't hurt her self-esteem at all.
My hometown has never been far away in my life.
Every time the opportunity comes, she always says:
Who will take care of you and your children after I leave-
Helpless-
Children who travel far away must take her avatar with them.
My hometown has never cheated anyone.
So far-
She is still outside the internet, enjoying peace.
Extended data:
Modern poetry, also known as "vernacular poetry", can be traced back to the late Qing Dynasty, which is a kind of poetry. Compared with classical poetry, although it is written for feeling things, it is generally informal in format and rhythm.
Modern poetry is free in form and rich in connotation. Image management is more important than rhetoric application, which completely breaks through the characteristics of ancient poetry "gentle and sincere, mourning without complaining", and puts more emphasis on free and open, straightforward statement and communication between "feeling and invisibility"
The representative figures of China's modern poetry are: Xu Zhimo, Beidao, Gu Cheng and Haizi.
Sogou encyclopedia-modern poetry
4. Homesickness in modern poetry
Yu Guangzhong
In childhood
Homesickness is a small stamp.
I'm at this end
Mom is over there.
When I grow up
Homesickness is a narrow ticket.
I'm at this end
The bride is over there.
We'll talk about it later.
Homesickness is a low grave.
I am outside
Mom's inside.
But now
Homesickness is a shallow strait.
I'm at this end
The mainland is over there
homesickness
Xi Murong
The song of my hometown is a flute in Qingyuan, which always rings with the moon at night.
The face of my hometown is a vague disappointment, like a wave of farewell in the fog.
After parting, homesickness is a tree without rings and will never grow old.
The poem about going home for the New Year is not modern, but an ancient poem "January Day".
[Song] Wang Anshi
The roar of firecrackers, the old year has passed; The warm spring breeze ushered in the New Year, and people happily drank the newly brewed Tu Su wine. The rising sun sheds light on doors of each household, New peachwood charm is put up to replace the old.
Zuitao Yuan Yuanri
[Song] Wu Wenying
Even Ma Jing was silent. Neighbors are still afraid of being surprised. The sun shines, the morning light shines and the spring is bright. It was cold and sad at dusk. New year's dream, love last year. Half asleep at night. The spring breeze is impermanent, and the plum blossoms are fragrant. Break the long and short pavilions.
Guizhou laye
Rong Yu
On New Year's Eve, I stayed up till midnight, and it was a long way to return to Xiu Yuan. The snow is whispering to the bamboo forest, and the dream has returned to the house. The horn of dawn replaces the leaky sound of night style, and the light will burn out the broken core flowers. In the past two years, I have left home with Biao Qi, and my hard-working Sui mother is still stuck in the world.
Night's longing
Liu Yuxi
If Mi Nian is not proud, what about Chinese New Year? Many travelers miss the past. Take leisure as your own comfort, and you will waste your life. Spring scenery is ruthless, and I have seen it in seclusion.
stay up late or all night on New Year's Eve
[Song] Su Shi
If you want to know how old you are, there are snakes going to the valley. The scale is half, who will cover it? The situation wants to tie its tail, although it is diligent and helpless. The child was forced not to sleep and was very happy at night. Don't sing the morning chicken, even more afraid of trouble. After sitting for a long time, the lights went down and I looked at the Big Dipper. It will be gone next year, and my worries will be in vain. Try to do it tonight, and the teenager can still boast.
Except Chang 'an Hotel at night.
[Tang] Ouyang Zhan
Ten books are still asleep, as time flies. Looking forward to your family's birthday is a long-term hatred. Deficiency and cold spread, and solitary light shines. Who will ask the poor to cry more?
6. Modern poems about hometown 1, homesickness Yu Guangzhong was a child/homesickness is a small stamp/I am here/my mother grew up there/homesickness is a narrow boat ticket/I am here/my bride is there/homesickness is a short grave/I am outside/my mother is inside/homesickness is now a shallow strait/me.
Poetry expresses a kind of nostalgia for hometown. This poem also embodies the poet Yu Guangzhong's good wish for the early reunification of the Chinese nation.
2. Homesickness The song of Xi Murong's hometown is a flute in Qingyuan, which always rings on a moonlit night, but the face of his hometown is a vague disappointment. It seems that homesickness is a tree without rings after parting. I heard the Ming flute in my hometown in the quiet night of this ancient city. Although Qian Shan is separated by thousands of waters, it also has the same elegy. Not long-lost parents, but a small pond next to my hometown, reeds and weeds on both sides of the pond in the breeze.
4 "Homesickness" Ao Hongliang's homesick tears, dripping into a bowl of rice under the eaves of rainy days, make homesick people intoxicated. In the dream, a reed flute sounded in the hearts of homesick people in the village. Yu Guangzhong was born in Nanjing, Jiangsu on June1928+1October 2 1 and studied at Moling Road Primary School (formerly Cuiba Township Primary School). 1952 graduated.
1953 founded "Blue Star" Poetry Society with Qin Zihao and Zhong Dingwen. Later, he went to the United States for further study and obtained a master's degree in art from the University of Iowa.
After returning to Taiwan Province, he became a professor at National Normal University, National Chengda University, National Taiwan Province University and Chinese University of Hong Kong. He is currently the Dean of Art College of Sun Yat-sen University in Taiwan. 20 12 April as a "resident writer" of the University of Macau.
First, the creative background Yu Guangzhong's life was in frequent running and migration, and he was separated from his relatives many times. 197 1 year, Yu Guangzhong, who hasn't returned to the mainland for more than 20 years, was homesick, and wrote the poem "Homesickness" in his former residence in Xiamen Street, Taipei.
Second, the appreciation of the whole poem is divided into four sections. On the one hand, poets write poems with the changes of time: childhood-after growing up-later-now, four life stages.
On the other hand, the poet takes the space barrier as the characteristics of these four stages: the separation of mother and son when I was a child-the separation of husband and wife when I grew up-the separation of mother and son later-the separation of the wanderer from the mainland now. The poet found a corresponding word to express his homesickness in four stages of his life: childhood stamps-boat tickets when he grew up-later graves-now straits.
From this, we can see that this poem promotes poetic expression layer by layer with the isolation and change of time and space. The poet succinctly extracted several simple images: stamps, boat tickets, graves and straits.
These four images are simple, clear, concentrated and strong. They are rich, that is, they are not piled up but implicit and have tension, which can induce readers to associate in many ways.
These four images materialize and concretize a very abstract "homesickness" and achieve a good artistic effect through "supporting things and expressing feelings". These images are connected by two simple demonstrative pronouns, "this" and "that", which skillfully integrate the isolated people, events, time, space and sad ends.
If there is no distance and connection, it will give people who are lovesick, parting and gathering all day long a strong sound, giving people an unspeakable sadness and joy. Poetry takes the time sequence as the longitude and the distance between the two places as the latitude, which has its own fascinating charm in the level tone, causing people infinite sadness and endless sympathy.
References:
Baidu encyclopedia-homesickness.
7. Let's go home for the modern poems with the theme of going home 1. I was alone in all kinds of people, and the sun stung me on purpose. I have a girl with tears in my throat, sobbing. There is a wisteria tree in front of my eyes, and the girl's crooked smile shines on it. Just as you turned around, another rain was urging me to grow old in love, and I was still waiting. The blush on your face remembers that you will pass through the dying canna. Then peel the fruit and smile. You're still playing house, afraid of your mother nagging and stamping your feet and biting your lips. Don't be shy about your childhood. I left my thoughts at your place. After ten years of carelessness, the ashtray was washed away by running water, and the empty heart was like a flower without dust, because her only face in a year could not wait to share with her lover. She is tired, ashamed and afraid, because she is too addicted to love to extricate herself. The wind blew for five nights.
The writing paper was wrinkled by the wind. I'm still across the wall, song for you. I finally held your hand for thirty-six months and twelve seasons. We watch the sunset together, listen to the fishermen's breath together, and sow together. We looked at the March wind and the March crops. Your breath is soft and calm. You look at the moon until she blushes for your happiness. Then we grow old together. You are water, I am a fish, and I wander in your warmth. You just said you were a fish, but I brought you breath.
You cried. Tears pushed open the window.
You said you were young. Finally, you secretly hid your love in my heart. I let the dust spill on your grave and put a white flower on my chest. I smiled sweetly: Come, let's go home.
8. Ask for songs or ancient poems or modern poems about "going home" (don't create them yourself). Wang Anshi's "Sailing in Guazhou"
Jingkou and Guazhou are just separated by a water, and Zhongshan has only a few heavy green mountains.
The gentle spring breeze turns green again, but, moon in the sky, when can you take me home?
On Wang Wei's Mountain Holiday Missing Shandong Brothers
I am a lonely stranger in a strange land, and I miss my family more often during the holidays.
When I think of my brothers' bodies climbing high, I will feel a little regret for not being able to reach me.
He Zhangzhi's Homecoming Book
Young people leave home, old people return, and the local accent has not changed.
When children meet strangers, they will smile and ask where the guests are from.
Qian Zhongshu once said: Greek mysterious philosophers have long said that life is nothing more than staying at home and going home. All our emotional, rational and will pursuits and attempts are nothing more than the homesickness of the soul, trying to find a person, a thing and a position, so that our body and mind can have a stable home in this vast and desolate world, as if a patient had gone to bed and a prodigal son had gone home. The purpose of traveling is to go home, otherwise you don't have to remember the impression of the journey. "
Junko "Going Home"; Andy Lau's "It's good to be home"; Kenneth gorelick saxophone plays "Go Home"
That's all I can think of ~ ~ for my efforts, I will adopt my >. & lt