Prose recitation Xi Murong 0 1 Love is like a dead butterfly.
You turn around and fly away from my sight with the grace of a butterfly.
The spring-like world suddenly entered winter.
The sound of those flowers turning into snow made me pale.
I used to think that my hands could hold this happiness, but it slipped from my palm like a loach.
Does my disordered palm print imply this kind of emotional sadness?
In the harvest season, what I harvest is the withering of flowers.
The glory of love attracts the attention of hunting. Hunting in the moonlight is creepy.
You want to escape to save love.
But, can you go faster than rumors?
Let's turn love into a butterfly with dead leaves.
Its flights and stops are extremely yellow?
Can this color of death take care of the subtlety of love?
Prose recitation Xi Murong pian 02 Gao Ji
When I think of Gao Ji, I think of those water ginger flowers.
When I was studying in the art department of Beijing Normal University, Gao Ji was my classmate in the same comprehensive subject.
We only met in the third grade. Every night before self-study, we sit in the window of the classroom corridor on the second floor. I don't know why there is so much to say, talking and laughing. We have to wait until the teacher intervenes before we go back to their classroom to do our homework.
At that time, some students were already making boyfriends or girlfriends. However, between me and Gao Qi, it was a very clear friendship. Probably compiled the school magazine together, and there is a feeling of * * * between us, and the content of the chat is also extremely extensive.
Time flies, graduation trip, graduation exam, and then graduation. I stayed at home in Muka County all July, and I like to run around the mountains every day.
One morning, Gao Qi and another classmate suddenly came to my house to find me. In front of my house, two tall boys stood shyly outside the courtyard wall, afraid to come in, and greeted me from a distance across a large lawn.
My father happened to be at home that day. Sitting in front of the French window in the living room, he looked surprised and didn't know how to deal with this unexpected thing for him. To him, it seems that I should still be the silly one who has always been like a little boy. Rong Er? ; How did you grow up unprepared, and as a result, a girl came to you with a boy?
I think when my father was surprised, he seemed a little annoyed, so he blurted out the reaction:
? No, don't go out. ?
However, that day, Dejie happened to be at home, and she immediately pleaded with her father for me:
? Let Rongrong go, they are all her classmates! ?
I never knew whether it was because of Sister De's intercession or because my father gradually calmed down, but at that time, I was too happy to go into it. After my father nodded, I quickly put on my shoes and ran out to meet him.
That was the last time I saw Gogi.
That day, the three of us went to the back hill of Zhinangong. The stream on the mountain is full of gingerbread flowers, and the mountain is full of that fragrance. Gao Ji said he would go back to Jinmen to teach, and I said he might walk to Normal University. There were many clouds in the sky that day, and there were many ethereal dreams in our young hearts. We wished each other well and made an appointment to write often.
However, after the two broke up, they did not exchange any news. I finally learned that his message was that more than 20 years later, I saw the plane crash in Kinmen in the newspaper. He is on the crash list, and it is said that he will come to Taiwan Province Province for a meeting. He is already the headmaster of a primary school.
I didn't realize it when I saw his name in the newspaper. Then, for an instant, I froze. For me, it has always been such a young and beautiful life! How can such an ending be believed?
? Gogi，Gogi，？ I have been calling this name softly in my heart. At this time, all the water ginger flowers seemed to reopen that year, and in the trance-like fragrance, I let tears flow down.
I really cherish a good friend when I was young!
Prose recitation Xi Murong 03 fourteen-year-old easel
Others mentioned that she always liked to say that she was born in the art department of Normal University, and later in the Royal Academy of Art in Brussels, Belgium, but she was not convinced. She always remembers that when she was fourteen years old, she left home for the first time with a new painting bag and easel, and went to study in the art department of Taipei Normal University. This school was originally designed to train primary school teachers. Of course, the course can't be all about painting, but she spends all her rest and holidays painting and forces the school to be painted? Art middle school? .
I'm in grade one, and the summer vacation hasn't arrived yet, but it's already getting hot. Everyone else was painting silently on campus, but she left her classmates and went to the back of the school alone. At that time, Heping East Road was a field, and she looked at the river stupefied. The sunshine at noon is transparent, the river is transparent, and some strange reflections grow like weeds under the double shaking of light and water. Everything is so noisy, everything is so quiet. She paints selflessly, only feeling that she and the sunshine have been integrated. She didn't even feel hot until she returned to the dormitory at dusk, only to suddenly find that the short-sleeved shirt has clearly divided her arms into brown, red and white. Strangely, she couldn't feel the wind or the sun at all. The only explanation is probably that she turned into a solar family herself that afternoon.
? Ah! I liked myself at that time. If I had been working so hard, I wouldn't be who I am now. ?
In the third year of high school, the master of Chinese painting, Xinshe, came to class. This is his last year, and the course is not over yet. He has given up. He is an eccentric teacher. He comes to normal university for classes and never goes upstairs. The school had to make do with him and move the students from the third floor to the downstairs. He eats peanut candy while attending class. Who wrote a poem? Who filled in the words? He can talk to others about the five dynasties official system, the four books and five classics and poetry, but he just won't talk about painting.
Every time I ask about poetry, my classmates push Xi Murong out. She is the only one in the class who is interested in poetry, so Teacher Fu has special respect for her. Of course, there may be another reason why they are together? Ethnic minorities? There is also a small seal engraved on the side of Teacher Fu? Lao wangsun? Identity. One day, Teacher Fu had a whim and wrote one? Hey? When it comes to Xi Murong, it is discovered that a male student rushed out and ran away. Of course, even students, at that time, everyone knew what Teacher Fu said. Valuable? Teacher Fu and Mr. Xi Murong were startled. They looked at each other silently and said nothing. The teacher's glance seemed to say:? Strange, I wrote it to you. Aren't you going to get it back? But her eyes are:? Teacher, thank you for using such a good word to describe me. I received what you gave me. What you gave me is mine. I will be grateful all my life. I don't have to steal someone else's word.
More than ten years have passed, and the words between teachers and students at that moment of hope are still in my heart.