Mom, I have to go.
Confessions of a seed
Dear mom, I'm leaving. I want to go out of my little world and see a different world.
Mom. Don't blame Uncle Feng for taking me away. I left and chose my own way to wander.
People say, "Parents are here, don't travel far", but I left your warm arms and no longer enjoyed my knees! Mom, I grew up under your cultivation; Flying wings are getting stronger and stronger, and wandering thoughts occupy my whole heart. Mom, I want to realize it!
In spring, in your warm heart, I have a desire to go to the outside world. So, in the call of spring breeze, in the baptism of spring rain, in the touch of spring, I poked my head out of your branch. Ah! Weedy meadows, fragrant flowers, thawed lakes, flying butterflies, singing birds ... all these are so beautiful and full of vitality! Seeing these scenes, I feel full of energy, so I stretch my waist, let myself grow up a little, and even produce tiny but delicate flowers to add color to spring.
In the hot summer, the sun lost the charm and tenderness of spring, like a vicious witch, frying and roasting us severely, and I became listless, shrugged my shoulders and hung my ears. In order to resist the power of the sun and the attack of the storm, I have to constantly absorb nutrients and water from you and try to make myself strong. Finally, I shook off the scattered petals, and the remaining calyx was full of nectar of life, and I became a small fruit standing on the branch!
Autumn is the season of parting. Uncle Feng brought wonderful things from afar, and my heart became restless. Mom, I want to go out of my little world and wander far away under your protection. In that distant place, I will settle down and stop wandering, mom, please don't be sad! Next spring, maybe I will take root in the desolate desert and build another home, where there will be infinite vitality because of my arrival; Maybe I will take root on the steep cliff and build another home, where I will add infinite scenery because of my arrival; Maybe I will take root on the busy roadside and build another home, where the infinite dust will be reduced because of my arrival; probably ...
Mom, please don't think about me, please don't worry about me. Under your care, I am strong enough, I can adapt to the harsh environment, I can resist the wind, frost, rain and snow, and I believe that I will be able to break out of my own small world and break into a new world.
Mom, I left with love and hope to realize my dream.
Dear mother, please don't get up early to kiss your child when the first sunshine shines between heaven and earth again in the morning. He's gone, and you'll never find him again! Maybe he will appear in the poet's hymn, maybe he will appear in the photographer's work, maybe he will appear in people's words-then, please be proud of him!
A simple and innocent heart, like a flower, blooms slowly under the nourishment of poetry. ...
Childhood, Poetry and Me
My mother began to teach me to recite ancient poems when I first learned to write Chinese characters with ants crawling askew.
Holding an illustrated book of ancient poetry, my mother accompanied me to travel to the kingdom of ancient poetry. "Wildfire never completely devoured them, and they grew taller in the spring breeze." "The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother made clothes for her wayward son." These sentences were engraved in my ignorant heart word by word. I don't quite understand the meaning of poetry, but I know that grass can't burn out, but it grows up when the spring breeze blows; I understand that all mothers love their children and let them eat well and wear warm clothes. These sentences sound like singing. How nice! So I was chewing sugar in my mouth, holding a book in my arms, and reading one ancient poem after another against the sound of pinyin milk.
Teenagers, Poetry and Me
"Mom, hundreds of thousands of years have passed since ancient poetry. Why do we have to read and recite them? " I asked my mother puzzled. "Because it represents the long and splendid culture of China! Read more books and recite more poems, and you will understand the truth contained in them, and you will be able to enrich the literary heritage and become a person who is fully committed. " Mom answered me.
So I picked up the book and continued to recite ancient poems. From primary school to junior high school, the book in my hand has changed from "Selected Ancient Poems" to "Poetry Collection".
"I advise you to drink more wine, there is no reason to go out to the west." "Seven or eight stars are in the sky, and two or three points of rain are in front of the mountain. In the old days, Maodian was near the forest, and the road turned to Xiqiao. " "The sky is connected with clouds and smoke, and the Milky Way wants to turn to Qian Fan dance." ……
I have been able to recite a lot of Tang poetry and Song poetry fluently and understand poetry. Read the text in the Chinese book again, and it will be easy to read it thoroughly; Words and sentences become handy when writing a composition.
Youth, Poetry and Me
"Last night, the west wind withered the green trees, and I went up to the tall building alone and looked at the horizon." It embodies the poet Yan Shu. How bitter is it? Who can comfort his loneliness?
"How much sadness can you have, just like a river flowing eastward." Looking back, what kind of sadness and regret does Li Yu, who has become a prisoner? When I grow up, I am no longer satisfied with simply understanding ancient poems, but simply reciting them. I am appreciating them with a mature mind and rich perceptual knowledge.
Focusing on this, I can see the solo dance of poets' souls and hear their emotional monologues:
"Leaves fall like the spray of a waterfall, while I watch the long river roll forward." Du Fu, a "poet saint", is old and sick, sometimes sad, and he is in a foreign land, asking lonely autumn scenery to speak for him. "Asked the shutter, but Haitang still. Do you know that?/You know what? It should be green, fat and thin. "One night, the wind was strong and the rain was sudden. When I woke up in the Ming Dynasty, the leaves were greener, but the flowers withered. Things always change unconsciously. As Xi Murong said in A Flowering Tree, "How can you meet me at my most beautiful moment?" What a deep and burning emotion it is to express yearning for beautiful love and nostalgia for youth with simple and elegant poems! From the reading of babbling as a child to the appreciation of growing old, beautiful poems have sown seeds in my heart, sprouted and blossomed. Gradually, I can understand the deeper connotation and richer emotions contained in the poem. Ancient poetry grew up with me. It purified my soul and cultivated my sentiment. I am determined to continue to set sail, accompanied by ancient poetry, and sail to a bright distance! My parents have been teaching me ancient poems since I was a child.
When I was three years old, my mother taught me to recite Li Bai's thoughts on a quiet night. "The foot of my bed is shining with such bright light. Is it frosty already? . Looking up, I found that it was moonlight, sinking again, and I suddenly thought of home. " Whenever I recite this poem, thunderous applause from my relatives will ring in my ears.
"Jasper makeup into a tree high, hanging green silk sash in ten thousand. I don't know who cut the thin leaves, and the spring breeze in February is like scissors. " When I was in the lower grade of primary school, this poem "Liu Yong" was an ancient poem that we had to memorize. With the growth of age, entering middle school, the poems to be memorized are becoming more and more complicated. For example, "An old friend stayed in the Yellow Crane Tower in the West, and fireworks went down to Yangzhou in March." "Li Bai was about to go by boat when he suddenly heard someone singing on the shore." "..." These ancient poems are all wrapped in deep affection!
The longer I am, the bigger the ancient poems are.
In the third year of high school, she became the big sister of her younger brothers and sisters at the same school. Of course, she learned ancient poetry by going up a flight of stairs in 1960. Otherwise, wouldn't this big sister be a waste?
The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward children. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. However, an inch of long grass is a little sentimental, and it has won three spring rays. "This is a poem in the textbook, and I want to repay my mother's love.
Ancient poetry, since childhood, you have been growing up with me, and you are my good partner!
I am willing to grow up in the ocean of ancient poetry.