The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks. The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.
Spring spring might as well give it a rest, and the autumn sun can stay on the hills for a long time. The scene of dusk, the first night in Shan Yu, is quiet and leisurely, fresh and pleasant.
The pine forest washed by rain is spotless, full of green; The rocks are especially crystal clear, transparent and bright; Even the moonlight is as bright as washing; Shan Yu's spring suddenly flows on the slate, and then winds down the mountain stream, giving out a crisp and pleasant song, like a "serenade". The pulse of nature is beating. When the women from Zhuhai moved slowly, they stirred the bamboo soaked in the night dew and made a rustling sound, which broke the quiet night sky with their silvery laughter. Listening to the ups and downs of lotus leaves on the water surface, the fishing boat went down the river. This is a fisherman who wants to catch fish by moonlight tonight.
Although the fragrance of spring has long gone, I am intoxicated with this wonderful autumn color and still yearn for a long stay.
2. The ancient poem "The Shepherd Boy" was rewritten into a 450-word composition. Vilen, lush with green grass, is full of vitality under the sunlight, like a huge emerald carpet stretching into the sky.
On the Yuan Ye, an old cow leisurely tasted the green grass, and the little shepherd boy ran and moved slowly and carefully between Yuan Ye under the temptation of butterfly dance.
In the evening, the sun, which has been active all day, gradually converges its light and becomes gentle, like a red lantern with a soft flame, hanging on the edge of Yuan Ye and the sky. Maybe it was suspended for too long, only to see it sink slowly and stop smoothly as soon as it touched the ground. It seems that with the support of vilen, it once again playfully jumped onto this huge green bed. The endless Yuan Ye was dyed dark green by the sunset. Looking at the sunset on the Yuan Ye, the little shepherd boy was too surprised to blink, for fear that the red lantern would be swept away by a giant hand in the blink of an eye. The little shepherd boy watched with wide eyes. Suddenly, the sunset shivered twice. Finally, like a naughty little rabbit, he quietly got into the grass with a light and agile tapping sound and said "goodbye" to the little shepherd boy.
That night, the wind blew gently again, and the clouds seemed to feel the end of the sunset glow. On the horizon, the slightly reddish clouds also dispersed. Reluctantly, he put on a black veil and walked away.
It's getting dark and the fields are much quieter.
Suddenly, with a light flute, the silent vilen suddenly came alive again. Then, the flute became louder and louder and closer. Following the sound, I saw an old cow walking slowly. It turned out to be a little shepherd boy. I saw him wearing a hat and hemp fiber, sitting on the back of a cow, playing the flute tirelessly, teasing the evening breeze, with a little coolness. The grass on the Yuan Ye seems to understand the flute and dance together in the hazy twilight. The flute went through the Woods, jumped over the Yuan Ye and drifted far away. ...
At the entrance of the village, the white-haired grandfather of the shepherd boy is waiting for his little grandson who lives alone to return from grazing. The appearance of an old man and a young man has added some warmth to the cool vilen and small villages.
The shepherd boy and grandpa are full, and it is completely dark, but there is still a faint light of the moon in the air. The shepherd boy, who had been herding cattle for a day, was already very tired at this time. Like a tired kitten, he snuggled up to the woodpile, took off his hat and hemp fiber, looked up at the moon with his beloved bamboo flute in his hand, missed his kind mother, and fell into a sweet dream country with wonderful reverie. ...
Shepherd boy (Lv Yan)
Lv Yan: Dong Bin.
The grass shop is six or seven miles away from the field, the flute is long and the night wind is three or four.
Come back from a full meal at dusk, and don't take off your hemp fiber.
To annotate ...
① Yokono: Guangyuanye.
2 get: tease.
Hemp fiber: a brown or straw-colored coat used to shelter from wind and rain.
translate
Green grass, vast Yuan Ye, endless. The flute sounded intermittently in the evening breeze, melodious, as if playing with the evening breeze. The shepherd boy returned from grazing and had a big meal at dusk. He didn't even take off his hemp fiber, so he lay happily on the grass on a moonlit night.
Make an appreciative comment
The poem "1( 16) Pictures of Shepherd Boy's Works of Art" shows us a vivid picture of Shepherd Boy coming home at night. We saw the quiet and leisurely life of the shepherd boy. Through the poem, we also see the author's inner yearning for a happy life away from the noise: the vast Yuan Ye is covered with green grass; The evening breeze is blowing the weeds. I haven't seen the shepherd boy come back yet, but I first heard the melodious and approaching flute of the shepherd boy coming from the wind. The flute sounded intermittently and fluttered with the wind. The shepherd boy came back and had a good meal. It's already after dusk. He didn't even take off his hemp fiber, so he lay in the open field to rest on a moonlit night. It shows the carefree and innocent nature of children. There are scenes, feelings, characters and voices in the poem. This vivid scene appears in our field of vision from far and near.
The word "shop" shows the gentle comfort of the grass and grassland.
The word "Nong" expresses a kind of interest, conveying the melodious flute sound in the wind and the meaning of the shepherd boy playing the flute.
Six or seven miles and three or four sounds here do not refer to definite figures, but to highlight the silence of the vast countryside in Yuan Ye in the evening.
centre
Expressed the author's inner yearning for a safe and comfortable life.
3. The ancient poetry was adapted into a composition of 500 words. Lv Yan's "Shepherd Boy"
Look! At first glance, the ground seems to be covered with a piece of green grass! When the wind blows gently, the sound of "rustling sand" spreads everywhere.
Listen! The shepherd boy is playing the flute again, and the cheerful tone teases the evening breeze and whispers slowly in his ear.
In the morning, when the sun was half exposed, the shepherd boy took a flute and went up the mountain to herd cattle. He sat on the cow's back, playing the flute and humming a tune. Running happily on the grass, unrestrained, without any troubles. Until I was tired of playing, I lay on the grass and looked at the white clouds and birds in the sky, with a smile floating around my mouth.
After dinner, the sun has set and the bright moon has climbed up. Holding a flute in his hand, the shepherd boy came to the haystack with cheerful steps, lay down without taking off his hemp fiber, listened to the unknown bugs singing beautiful songs in the grass, looked up at the bright moon in the night sky, and came up with pictures in his mind.
Probably a little, it can be expanded according to the foundation.
4. Li Bai took me to see the magnificent scenery of and set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea. Su Shi and I "quick march": Look at the beautiful scenery of "flowers in the water are interlaced and bamboo and cypress are hidden". The poet walked with me, spent a happy time with me and grew up with me! The poet and I watched the scenery turn yellow and the leaves fall with the wind. No! That's not a leaf, it's a magnificent view that "falling red is not a heartless thing, but turning into spring mud will protect flowers more" It tells us what dedication is, the moon is high in the sky, no! That's not the moon! It was the sad scenery of "looking up, I found it was moonlight, and then sinking, and I suddenly remembered home". It told us what homesickness was, and the pool ran down, no! That's not a pool, but a peach blossom pool in thousands of feet, which is better than the love scenery in Wang Lun. Tell us what friendship is! The poet accompanied me to see the scenery and told me that autumn leaves let us know how to give, the night sky scenery and the rising moon let us know how to taste homesickness, pool scenery and water flow, and let us know what friendship is. The poet walked with me and watched the scenery with me. Thank you for telling me so much, thank you for letting me know so much! The poet made me love my mother. The poet walked with me and told me: "The thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for her wayward son's body, but the grass of one inch has won three inches of glory. You should love your mother." Yes! I want to love my mother! Mother is working silently, and a monotonous landscape is formed behind the building. Year after year, the wind and frost covered your smiling face, your lonely heart, who can understand? Flowers bloom quietly, you work silently, trying to tell you that you have always been my miracle. In fact, I have always understood you and loved you very much. However, we have nothing to say to each other, and some are just heart-to-heart. The poet walked with me and asked me to love my mother. Thank you for introducing me to my mother. Thank you for letting me know how to love my mother! The poet made me taste homesickness, old vines, faint crows, small bridges, flowing water, ancient roads, thin horses in the west wind and sunset. Heartbroken people are at the end of the world. Looking into the air, "looking up, I found that it was moonlight, and it sank back, and I suddenly remembered my home" and "looking at the sea". Where is the pass of Rimu Township? People are driving on the Yanbo River, feeling sad and in tears. "I go forward. I cried until my tears ran out, and I saw a sailboat about to fall in the distant sky. "I will think of you in the clouds, so think of me in the sunset. Poets let me taste homesickness, but reason is still chaotic. Don't have a trace of homesickness in your heart! The poet accompanied me. Thank you. I will try my best to have the lofty sentiments of "reaching the peak, the other mountains all appear dwarfs under the sky.", the filial piety of "Who said the grass in the village will win the honor of three villages" and the leisure of "picking chrysanthemums under the east fence and seeing Nanshan leisurely". The intention of' naked, not dignified'! The poet walks with me, that deep love! That's deep sorrow! That long-term vision!
5. I want a composition with ancient poems, and I hope that 400 words can be adopted ~ ~ ~ to rewrite Dream. One summer morning, Li Qingzhao sat alone in an antique pavilion, looking at the beautiful scenery in the lake, and I couldn't help thinking of her drinking and enjoying flowers with friends a few days ago.
It was a summer afternoon. Li Qingzhao and her friends rowed, swam around the lake and enjoyed the scenery. In the middle of the lake, green eyes are everywhere, and lotus leaves are squeezed on the water like handfuls of umbrellas.
Blossoming delicate lotus flowers appear in various forms from the middle of the lotus leaf, like flawless jade. There is only a white bud in the green, shy and in bud; Some are only half open, some petals are scattered, and some are surrounded by stamens, just like a beauty in a gown, a person who "hides half a face behind the guitar from us"; Dancing like a girl in white; Those petals have fallen off, revealing green lotus flowers. The small holes in the lotus seeds seem to be small mouths, opening their throats and shouting, "I am mature, come and pick them!" " Lotus gives off a fresh and elegant fragrance, attracting butterflies to play.
In the clear lake, small fish are jumping happily, and ripples appear on the lake. Li Qingzhao and her friends rowed the boat and drove in the lotus leaves, smelling the fragrance, and couldn't help singing: "The lotus pond is quiet …" Li Qingzhao and her friends enjoyed the beautiful scenery, sang songs and drank wine, and were intoxicated by the lotus pictures in summer.
Time flies, the setting sun gradually converges its light and becomes gentle, like a soft red lantern hanging on the horizon. Li Qingzhao and her friends found that it was already dark. Li Qingzhao quickly said, "It's getting dark. You'll be anxious if you don't go back to your parents."
"That's right." Friends echoed in succession.
Li Qingzhao picked up the paddle and rowed desperately. Her friend also shouted, "Row! Row quickly! " However, because it was dark, Li Qingzhao was drunk again and mistakenly rowed the boat into the depths of the lotus. Everyone rowed and rowed in a hurry, almost overturning the boat and splashing a lot of water. Waterbirds parked nearby were startled by the splashing water, spread their white wings and flew.
Some of them flapped their wings and flew into the sky, some flew for a while and stopped on the beach on the shore, some hovered in the air and sang songs, as if blaming them for disturbing their dreams. Thinking of this, Li Qingzhao was so angry that she couldn't help chanting: If you dream, you always remember the sunset in Xiting, and you don't know where to go.
Always had a good time, but lost to the swimming pool deep in Zhu Feng. How to row a boat out, accidentally, but scared a group of Oulu.
Rewrite the Yellow Crane Tower to bid farewell to Meng Haoran's beautiful spring scenery in March, and Li Bai's good friend Meng Haoran will take a boat to Yangzhou. Li Bai came to the Yangtze River to see Meng Haoran off.
Li Bai said, "Brother Meng, a thousand words can't replace my feeling of saying goodbye to you. We are going to part here, I hope you will go all the way. "
Meng Haoran said, "There is no such thing as a banquet that must come to an end, but reunion is fate. Then we will get together and have a good drink. Take care! " After that, Meng Haoran put his luggage on his back, set foot on the boat and waved goodbye to Li Bai. Li Bai watched the boat leave until it disappeared into the horizon, but he still refused to leave for a long time.
He looked around at the green willows and flowers in bud, and could not help but be poetic. He wrote the poem "Yellow Crane Tower Farewell Meng Haoran on the way to Yangzhou": An old friend said goodbye to the West Yellow Crane Tower, and fireworks went down to Yangzhou in March. My friend's sail shadow faded away and disappeared at the end of the blue sky, only seeing the first line of the Yangtze River and heading for the distant horizon.
Rewriting "Qiu Si" month, like a jade plate embedded in the sky shrouded by a curtain, is extremely bright against the starlight. I can't help looking up in the autumn night.
The cool breeze blows gently, the maple leaves keep swaying, and the fallen leaves dance with the wind. I breathed a sigh of relief and saw some white smoke-it was cold. Did my family wear more coats and quilts? My thoughts echoed in my heart. In the dark night, I seem to see the kind and expecting faces of my family and the waiting eyes at home.
Write a letter to your family and ask if they are safe. Maybe it's because of the cold weather, and my thoughts can't help rising.
Prepare paper, ink, pen and inkstone. There are countless ideas in my heart, but I don't know where to start. Seeing the autumn leaves swaying outside the window, I seem to be telling my thoughts about my hometown.
The bright moon reflected the way home, and the maple leaves fluttered in the wind. For a moment, all my thoughts turned into ink and spilled on the paper. I wrote carefully, domesticated my long-cherished thoughts into vast handwriting and flowed out carefully.
A little sweet, a little bitter, a little yearning, a little worried ... come to mind together, which is hard to argue. Time slipped away when I told my thoughts. I can't wait to rush to the post office regardless of the weather and post this letter with my thoughts.
When the courier was about to hit the road, paragraphs after paragraphs popped up in my mind, and pictures after pictures got into my mind. I immediately took the letter back, opened the envelope, listened to the "rustling" sound of the wind blowing through the stationery, and took my thoughts to the distance.
I'm afraid I haven't written all my thoughts, turning my troubles into questions and greetings and putting my thoughts on ink. I polished the ink again and poured out my thoughts to the pale colorless paper again ... Autumn wind is rustling, the moon is in the sky, the night is dark and colorless, and yellow leaves are dancing ... The cool wind blows on my face. I really want to turn my thoughts into autumn wind, let it take them away and sway my hometown ... Rewrite "Like a Dream". I lean against the window alone and often think of that day: I sat in a pavilion by the stream.
I raised my glass and tasted the wine. Cup after cup, before I knew it, it was getting late and I was so drunk that I forgot the way home.
My interest has been greatly satisfied. I rowed and groped my way home. But accidentally, I strayed into the depths of the lotus pond.
I looked around, green lotus leaves and pink lotus flowers were intertwined, and several little frogs jumped on the lotus leaves and sang cheerful songs. Lotus gives off a faint fragrance.
You see, the lotus here is too ashamed to open its petals; Look, several lotus flowers there have blossomed into the most beautiful smiles, like a slim girl standing in the middle of the pond.
6. Choose one of the ancient poems and rewrite it into a 400-word short story. Born in Luoyang, Zhang saw the autumn wind, and he wanted to write a meaningful book.
When the letter is written, I am worried that I have not finished what I want to say; When the messenger started, he opened the envelope and gave it to him. The autumn wind in Qiu Si blows across the earth, and Luoyang also welcomes autumn.
Zhang Ji, a scholar who came to Luoyang to study alone from his hometown, felt a gust of autumn wind blowing and felt extremely desolate and lonely in his heart. He recalled the scene when he left home: "The tearful mother took his hand and urged herself to study hard. When she was free, she came back to visit relatives. She usually put on more clothes and didn't catch cold ... Dad was also very excited, patting his shoulder and saying that when he grew up, he would have time to go home and see his parents. His mother was very reluctant to let him go ... I couldn't help feeling sad and lonely. He remembered my kind mother, my strict but considerate father, and my friends who grew up together ... so he spread out his stationery, picked up a pen and wanted to write a letter to his distant relatives.
But as soon as I picked up the pen, a lot of words popped up in my heart. It seems that there are thousands of words, and a piece of paper is not enough to write, so I don't know what to write at the moment. After thinking for a while, he finally finished writing the letter and gave it to the messenger.
The next morning, the messenger took a good letter and was ready to get on the horse and go to the destination. Zhang Ji picked up the letter again, because he was very homesick. He wanted to tell his mother and father many things and told them to pay more attention to their health ... He read it again and again, revised it again and again, and still handed it to the messenger nervously, urging again and again: "Be sure to give it to my family!" Looking at the messenger away, smaller and smaller, Zhang Jicai heaved a sigh.
7. Write a composition about ancient poetry, about 450 words, in the tone of fifth grade primary school. Don't recite poems from the age of four. Of course, adults forced it. When I was a child, I couldn't read, so I was afraid of reciting poems.
After school, I became literate, and the teacher called some poems, but only to explain them. It was not until I entered junior high school that I became familiar with poetry appreciation.
Many poems only have an ordinary story, sometimes it is too small to mention, but the poet can write it into a famous sentence through the ages and spread it widely. This is the charm of poetry. There are many schools of poetry, such as bold and graceful, and different schools of poetry have their own unique aspects.
Many of Li Bai's poems belong to the uninhibited school. There is an atmosphere of "flying to thousands of feet for three days, and it is suspected that the Milky Way has set for nine days", a sense of complacency of "laughing at the sky and going out is our Artemisia selengensis people", a confidence of "Dapeng rises with the wind one day and soars in Wan Li", and also "I want to cross the Yellow River, but the ice-choked ferry will climb Taihang Mountain" and "I left my food bar and cup, and I can't eat or drink.
When he is not reused, he has sufficient self-confidence; When he was in a high position, he was complacent and heroic; When he saw the ugly side of the imperial court, he had a great personality and despised the powerful. When he leaves because of this, he will also be depressed and confused. If you want to taste poetry, you must understand the poet's life experience and even social background.
It is not difficult to understand, but what you get will only be superficial and meaningless. When you really understand it, feel it and understand it, you will get endless feelings and real meaning.
You can even feel that you are breathing with the poet, sharing joys and sorrows. You understand his feelings and even have the impulse to comfort him. We are enjoying poetry, poets and society, and we enjoy it.
I was deeply attracted when I read The Difficult Road in Shu. The poet's unpredictable brushwork vividly depicts the dangers of Shu Road, artistically shows the winding, majestic and rough face of ancient Shu Road, and depicts a colorful landscape painting, which is fascinating.
I was deeply attracted by his wild imagination. He created a broad artistic realm for me and fascinated me with his romantic colors. If you really want to appreciate a kind of poetry, you must also appreciate the beauty of other factions.
Du Pu's "Hope for Spring" will make people sad, and war will separate people from their loved ones and leave their homes. Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer reminds people of my mother's care for me in the past, and a warm feeling comes to my mind ... Every time I appreciate it, I can feel different and throb.
This is the charm of poetry, and I want to be intoxicated with the charm of this poem! Never appreciate it. It's a new harvest to appreciate it. -Zhu Guangqian-Inscription 1 Poetry is the most extraordinary.
The earliest poems came from the ancient working people, who can be said to be the representatives of the lower Bali people. Later, it was gradually favored by literati, so Chun Xue like Nineteen Ancient Poems appeared. These are all things I just felt recently.
I wasn't like this when I was a kid. (2) because of my good memory, I recited the five-character and seven-law of the Tang Dynasty almost once, and I never forgot it, but I can't taste the general rhyme.
Even if there is, it is only a kind of obscurity of "the so-called Iraqis are in the water". Long-term swallowing dates eventually led to "indigestion" until I read Li Bai's "Into the Wine".
Looking at that gray-yellow paper, I looked helpless. But I didn't know there was Gan Kun in it until I looked carefully.
I was shocked by the first sentence-"didn't you see how the water of the Yellow River moved out of heaven and into the ocean, never to return?" It seems that I have been standing on the surging river bank, watching the Yellow River merge into the East China Sea with China's five thousand-year complex.
There is an atmosphere of "a hundred rivers go east to the west" between heaven and earth, which makes me, like Li Bai, unable to see the lovely person in the mirror on the shelf. Although it is silky black in the morning, it turns into snow at night. Reminds me of Zhang Jiuling's poem "Stay in the Clouds, Waste a Hundred Years" and Cao Cao's outlook on life "If the morning dew shows, it's hard to go to Japan". Seeing this, I feel a little depressed from my agitation just now.
8. An article adapted from a modern poem, 300 words is still worth the fire.
Night is not night, just like I don't belong to me, and the moon is not even gentle and silent.
What kind of sparks will never go out?
The universe is dark and the flame is small, that is to say, if there is light like the sun, it is only a star in the distance.
Fire sacrifice! By the way, what have you lost? Enjoy the bright things and disdain to answer,
Because another fire was sacrificed, only the night was completely dark. It is an illusory but most real world.
Give the night back to the fire, give it back to the fire!
Tell it, it really lost itself.
Give the night back to the fire, give it back to the fire!
Inspire its immortal potential.
The fire burns out when it burns out. As if your shadow disappeared in the starry sky,
Love is still spent peacefully in glory.
Night is not night, just like I don't belong to me, I am a burnt-out fire, and I become a night of dancing in the dark.
You belong to the fire that illuminates you. How much you should love me.
Give you back to me You should know.
9. Turn an ancient poem into a model essay (2)
Hero's season
The wind is rustling and the water is cool. The autumn wind blows off the leaves, and the leaves fall into the water one after another. The river is slowly covered with red. The fiery red river and fallen leaves are doomed to be a chaotic autumn.
On the path by the river, a group of people came from a distance in the mist. There is a prison car in the middle of the team, and there are heavily guarded escorts before and after the prison car. There is a man in the prison car who is in rags but has big eyes. Looking closely, behind the vicissitudes of smoke and dust, it turned out to be a face only 16 years old. This is Xia Wanchun.
At this moment, the autumn wind is still blowing, the leaves are still flying, and the rustling river is still rippling after the leaves fall. In the prison car, Xia Wanchun's heart is like a river.
From the day Xia Wanchun was born, he was a member of Amin dynasty in his bones, and he was deeply proud of it. Since childhood, Yue Fei has been his hero. He can't forget the kind but firm tone of his mother when she told the story of Yue Fei when she was a child. He can't forget the feeling of blood boiling when he first read Man Jiang Hong. He can't forget that when he came home by chance, his father ran around and insisted on the appreciation and expectation of Kang Qing. He can't forget the teacher's sad and angry expression when he recited "the old country is around the mountain, and the tide hits the empty city and returns to loneliness." At that time, he planted a seed in his heart, which was nourished by countless experiences, so the seed took root and gradually became a towering tree, supporting his whole heart.
The prison car is still bumping. Xia Wanchun stretched out his hand and brushed the straw from his forehead and found that the road ahead was deja vu. He couldn't help smiling bitterly, but revisiting the old place turned out to be such a general scene. Xia Wanchun's memory is getting clearer and clearer. One day at the age of thirteen, he came home and told his mother excitedly and nervously that he would join the anti-Qing team like his father. Mother hesitated for a moment, then said nothing. Mother seemed particularly silent that day, so she told Xia Wanchun to pack up and go to bed early. Xia Wanchun didn't sleep that night, but quietly listened to the sobbing under the lamp outside, and then burst into tears unconsciously.
A 13-year-old child should have the right to enjoy happiness, but the reality forced him to live a life of "Wan Li goes to Rongji and flies in the mountains". After three years of torture, Xia Wanchun was finally trapped in this prison van. He really doesn't know whether to be thankful or sorry.
The road became more and more familiar, and Xia Wanchun saw the crowd. Suddenly, he found his mother in the crowd. He doesn't know that three years can make a person so old. When the fog cleared, Xia Wanchun saw the confusion in her mother's eyes. She kept running after the prison car, shouting her son's name. Xia Wanchun has mixed feelings. He grabbed the railing of the prison car and shouted to his mother, "Be loyal to your country!" " These were the last words that Xia Wanchun's mother said to him when he left home three years ago. He regards it as his eternal belief. Mother heard and understood, because she stopped. At that moment, my mother, whose hair was blown away by the wind, stood by the bleak Songjiang River, and the leaves behind her were intertwined. This picture is instantly frozen and becomes eternal. Xia Wanchun couldn't bear the sadness, and finally turned to face the front. In the past three years, she was in tears again.
"Three years of the passengers, today is the south crown. Endless tears, who says the world is wide? I already know the way to another spring, and I am really worried when I think of saying goodbye to my hometown. On the day when I return, I will see the spirit flag in the air! " Xia Wanchun laughed when he roared out these four poems with almost all his strength. At this time, he, like Yue Fei, his eternal hero, really has no regrets.
Like a river of flames burning with life, the fallen leaves dance with life, which is destined to be a hero's season.
Comments: Appreciation is to put the true self-emotion into the poet's blood and boil and burn together. According to the content and emotion of the original poem, combined with the poet's life experience and the background of writing this poem, the author associates and imagines, sets specific scenes and situations, and turns the concise poem into a dense prose. In addition, the psychological description is particularly delicate and vivid. And this kind of psychology is integrated with all the scenery, people and things around it, so it is true and credible, and that kind of desperate but still heroic pride can also infect people.
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