2. Xian Yi, young and old, left home, and the local accent has not changed. -He Zhangzhi's Homecoming Book
Now, close to my village and meeting people, I dare not ask a question. -Song Wenzhi "Crossing the Han River"
Under the blue mountain, my boat and I meandered along the green water. -Wang Wan's berth at the foot of Beibao Mountain.
5. After people return to geese, they think about flowers. -Xue Daoheng's "Homecoming"
6. Looking up, I found it was moonlight, sinking again, and I suddenly remembered home. -Li Bai's Thoughts on a Quiet Night
On the seventh day, the rest of the flutes flew silently, and the spring breeze filled Los Angeles. -Li Bai's "Smelling the flute in Los Angeles on a Spring Night"
8. I have been in first frost for ten years in the Guest House and Bingzhou, and I remember Xianyang day and night. -Liu Zao's "Journey to the North"
9. As soon as you see heartbroken, you can't go back. -Bai Juyi's Nanpu Bie
10, I want to sit at home late at night and talk about people who travel far away. -Bai Juyi's Night Thoughts on the Winter Solstice in Handan
1 1, the spring scenery in the two places is the same, which makes people homesick. -Bai Juyi's "Looking at the Station"
12, I turned to my hometown because I was bored, and my dream of returning home became longer. -Zhu Chen's "Go Home"
13, I can finally send my messenger, Wild Goose, back to Luoyang. -Wang Wan's berth at the foot of Beibao Mountain.
14, the spring scenery in the two places is the same, which makes people homesick. -Bai Juyi's "Looking at the Station"
15, where do children come from when they meet strangers? -He Zhangzhi's Homecoming Book
2. Poems about "Going Home" Going Home
Ahead, home is ahead.
In front, there is a mother's persistent watch.
Ahead, is my father's generous chest.
Home is just ahead (imagination on the way home)
At the foot, the road is very confused.
In my heart, dark clouds are floating.
On the shoulders, heavy responsibilities have been strengthened.
Love is really hesitant (the pressure of parents' high expectations)
In spring, you put on light clothes for me.
In summer, you keep out the sun for me.
In autumn, you sow hope for me.
In winter, you weave dreams for me (parents work hard)
Me? What should I do?
Is to hide in a dream
Or embrace melancholy?
Or spray blood (ambivalence)
On the horizon, the sunset hangs.
In the tree, tired birds are sleeping.
Lying on the ground, walking in confusion.
Think of my parents as soon as possible (eager to go home)
It's a long way home.
Horizon? In the tree?
On the ground? Atrium?
Where is this emotion hidden? (Unknown secrets, growing pains)
3. Homesickness in the poem about going home 1. You come from my old country.
Tell me what happened there! . When you pass by my window, are plum blossoms blooming? (Wang Wei's Miscellaneous Poems) 2. Young people leave home, old people return, and the local accent has not changed.
Where do children come from when they meet strangers? "He zhang's" hometown couplet ") 3. The spine of the book is broken, winter returns to winter and spring returns to spring. The closer I get to my hometown, the more timid I am, afraid to inquire about people from home.
Song Wenzhi "Crossing the Han River") 4. Under the blue mountain, my boat and I meandered along the green water. Until the river bank widens at low tide, and no wind blows my lonely sail.
... night gives way to the ocean of the sun, and the old year melts in freshness. I can finally send my messenger, the wild goose, back to Luoyang.
(Wang Wan's "The Next Berth on Beibao Mountain") 5. It's only seven days in spring and two years away from home. The day of returning home is behind the bird's return to the earth, but the idea of returning home has existed before the spring flowers bloom.
(Xue Daoheng's Home) 6. The foot of my bed is shining with such bright light. Is it frosty already? . I looked up at the moon and looked down, feeling nostalgic.
(Li Bai's Silent Night Thinking) 7. The sound of Yudi's flight was dark, and the spring breeze filled Los Angeles. In this nocturne, everyone can't remember the national conditions.
(Li Bai's "Smelling the flute in Los Angeles on a Spring Night") 8. It has been ten frosts in Bingzhou, and I miss Xianyang day and night. For no reason, I crossed the mulberry river, but I hope that Bing is my hometown.
(Liu Zao's Journey to the North) 9. Wanderers listen to drums and autumn geese sing. The dew turns to frost tonight, and the moonlight at home is bright!
Brothers are scattered, and no one can ask about life and death. Letters sent to Luoyang city are often not delivered, and wars often do not stop.
Bai Juyi's three homesick poems look at Jing 'an Hall as a window willow and flowers in front of the station. Two beautiful springs, on the same day; At this time, family members miss their relatives outside, and people outside miss their families.
I miss my hometown from winter to day and night in Handan post office every winter to Sunday, and I always have a kneepad lamp with me. If you want to sit at home late at night, you should also talk about travelers.
Nanpu bid farewell to Nanpu, and the west wind curled up in autumn. Turn back immediately, my heart is broken, so I can leave and don't look back.
Let's go home with a modern poem about going home.
1
I am worried alone in all kinds of people.
The sunshine stung me on purpose.
There is a girl's tears in my throat, sobbing.
2
There are wisteria trees in front of me, trees
According to the girl's evil smile, you just turn around.
Then a shower urged me to grow old.
I'm in love, still waiting, the blush on your face.
Remember that you will walk past the dying canna, then peel the fruit and smile.
You still look like you're playing house, afraid of your mother nagging.
Stamp your feet and bite your lips. Don't be ashamed of your childhood.
three
I forgot to miss you, so ten years passed carelessly.
The ashtray seems to have been washed away by running water, and the empty heart is like a decoration without dust.
four
The flower who died young is crying, because her only face in those days can't wait to share with her lover.
Belatedly thanked flowers are tired, ashamed and scared, because they are too addicted to love.
five
In the evening, the wind blew a page of writing paper.
The writing paper was wrinkled by the wind.
Thirty-six months and twelve seasons, I'm still across the wall in song for you.
six
I finally hold your hand, and we enjoy the sunset and listen to the fisherman's breath in his pipe.
There is also sowing together, watching the March wind and watching the March crops.
Your breath is soft and calm,
You look at the moon until she blushes for your happiness.
seven
Then we will grow old together.
You are water, I am a fish, swimming in your warmth.
You just said you were a fish, and I brought you breath.
We still watch bananas in the rain and warm the stove in snowy days.
You put your frozen hand in my big hand.
eight
The small paper boat was wet by the rain.
You cried. Tears pushed open the window.
You said you were young.
nine
Finally, you secretly hid love in my heart,
I let the dust fall on your grave,
A white flower on my chest, I smiled sweetly:
Come on, let's go home.
5. Ask for songs or ancient poems or modern poems about "going home" (don't write your own poems). 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
6. Modern Poetry on the way home The sun has set.
But it's still there-
Walking on the familiar dirt road in a hurry,
The sea breeze still lives on the island,
I feel a little cold, but it's warm.
The pace of three spans in one second, yearning.
There is a familiar smell of fish sauce in the air.
With the sound of cooking,
I think this is a good time,
The villagers should return home with a full load.
I accidentally kicked a few stones,
Busy painting many trees,
In my sense of taste,
Full of familiar local flavor.
In a hurry, there is no time to taste.
I saw the lights at home,
therefore
I can't wait to run over there. ...
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. About the poets who came home,
Miss.
But it's far!
Heart,
Wandering.
But I missed!
I don't know how long I'll be wandering,
How I want to step into my harbor forever.
Happiness becomes thin because it is far from home.
Sadness only shows sadness in a foreign land.
I don't want anything,
A lot of money can't buy the warmth of home,
Too much happiness can't buy smiles at home,
No matter how much happiness is not shared by family,
More sadness is only to be tasted by yourself.
Go home, go home,
Home is the endorsement of happiness!
Pseudonym,
Tamori,
Don't care too much,
The greatest happiness in the world is-
Stay with your family!