I like poetry, but I like poetry best.
I like a poem by Ma Zhiyuan-Tianjin Sha Qiu Si, but I like a poem by Qu Youyuan best-Ma Zhiyuan on the train. I like it because its artistic conception is impressive; I like it because it tells the story of homeless people; I like it because it makes me feel the warmth of home more thoroughly. ...
There is a saying in the poem that "there is no running water on a small bridge/there is no withered vine/the old tree cries". Whenever I cross the river and see a crow, I always think of this poem, and I can't help thinking of my hometown ... the same small bridge and flowing water, the same old vine, only an old man with white hair and other granddaughters come home. Every time she goes back to her hometown, she always waits for me outside the door. She sat on a mossy stone bench, and the breeze blew her silver hair. She narrowed her eyes and raised her mouth. Her deeply wrinkled face was always so kind. ...
There is also a poem in the poem, "An ancient road/a train thinner than a thin horse/no matter which direction the wind blows". Wandering outside will inevitably lead to deep homesickness, but does this train thinner than a thin horse carry their thoughts and send them to their hometown? ...
But what I feel most is this sentence: "Sunset/postpone the setting of the west/insist on/send the heartbroken/from Tianya/now to Tianya". I don't understand homesickness, and I can't understand the pain of wandering away from home, but I know that this is a kind of waiting sorrow, and this is a kind of pain without company. ...
Although I am not a wanderer and I am not so homesick, this poem tells me that leaving home is a sad beginning; Not going home is a continuation of sadness ... so, when we are young, we should cherish time and cherish every love our family gives us. Don't let yourself regret after leaving home. ...
I like this poem because it has distant scenery, because it has homesickness for parting, and because it has the feeling of wandering. ...