A 250-word excerpt of a paragraph with a beautiful artistic conception
A 250-word excerpt of a paragraph with a beautiful artistic conception. In our study, we must be exposed to articles. We will excerpt some good article paragraphs. , it will be of certain use for our article writing. Writing lies in accumulation. Here is a 250-word excerpt of a paragraph with beautiful artistic conception. Excerpt 1 of a passage with beautiful artistic conception
The sunshine in June in the north flows clearly into the incense workshop from the window, giving the smooth appearance of the three-legged bronze incense burner a more solemn luster.
Chi Fengchen took the freshly baked incense, inserted it into the incense burner, and lit it. Immediately, the incense burner was enveloped in faint blue smoke, and the fragrance was stronger than the smell of resin. The incense shop is filled with fragrance, and the fragrance eventually crosses the window and penetrates through the cracks in the wall to the outside of the house, making passers-by shrug and marvel. ——"Xiangfang" The early spring in the north is dirty. This dirtiness is of course due to the pure and flawless snow that we once enthusiastically praised.
In the long winter in the north, the cold has spawned snows one after another. They stretch out their beautiful tentacles from the heavens and fall delicately to the earth, sinking the entire north into a world of ice and purity. middle. If you are walking on the street in the snow, looking at the trees with branches covered with velvet, looking at the white snow on the roof of the church, looking at the silver road extending infinitely, your heart will be filled with passion: for That unparalleled magnificence or desolation.
——Chi Zijian's "Mud" There is only one God, but there are countless worshipers, so there are countless wax torches on the altar. When they spread light, they also shed tears.
The candle tears splashed down from the altar like bees and butterflies, and finally condensed together into one piece, as moist as milk and as transparent as amber, just like the broken wings of an angel. What the old woman is cleaning is not only the heartfelt prayer of mankind, but also the nectar of God to comfort the suffering people in the world.
——Chi Zijian's "The Moment of Light Bowing Down" The wall is made of reinforced concrete and is more than three meters high. At the top of the wall is a raised cornice, which is shaped like a pot helmet and is gray-black when viewed from the side.
The gap at the joint is as wide as a thumb, as if the wall is wearing a picked-up hat. Not only is it tattered, but it doesn’t fit well, which makes it look funny. The walls are mottled and peeling off in many places, with graffiti and missing arms and legs everywhere.
Honestly, this is the ugliest wall I have ever seen in the world. It is not guarded by trees above the ridge of the wall, nor is it surrounded by lawn below the wall.
Lack of green, from a distance, it looks like a cold and venomous snake crawling, full of murderous intent. When you get close to it, you are really worried that it will bite you unexpectedly.
——Chi Zijian's "The Seventeenth Line of Defense" There is not one wind, but many. In my eyes, they are thick and thin, strong and weak.
The wind in the vegetable garden is a weak wind. When they blow the unevenly fat vegetable leaves, the broad leaves only move slightly, not swaying lively. Therefore, the black ladybugs on the cabbage leaves will not be shaken off, and the butterflies playing on the carob flowers will be safe and sound.
The skinny Caiye only shook her head a few times. But if you look at the winds in mid-air, they are much stronger.
The dark clouds were blown away, and the face became greener and greener. The strong wind also caused many cracks to appear on Wuyun's face, and he clearly looked like he was about to cry.
Those winds that hit the corner without any hesitation, because they were bumped on the head and felt that they had lost face, did not look back and simply dissipated in silence. As for those colorful chickens running around, look at the wind on their feathers. It is so soft and easy. The feathers are blown open petal by the wind, as if the flowers are talking with their tongues sticking out.
——Chi Zijian's "Flower Petal Rice" 1 It has been nearly ten years since autumn in the North. Every autumn in the south, I always think of the reed flowers in Taoranting (1), the willow shadows in Diaoyutai (2), the singing of insects in Xishan (3), the moonlight in Yuquan (4), and the bells in Tanzhe Temple (5) .
Even if you don’t go out in Peiping, you can rent a shabby house with 6 rafters to live in the middle of the imperial city. Get up in the morning, make a bowl of strong tea, and sit in the courtyard. , you can also see the very high green sky and hear the flying sound of tame pigeons under the blue sky. Look eastward under the locust trees to closely observe the streaks of sunlight filtering through their leaves, or quietly gaze out at the trumpet-shaped blue flowers of morning glories climbing half way up a dilapidated wall, and of course you'll feel the intense feeling of it. Autumn.
When it comes to morning glories, I think blue or white are the best, followed by purple and black, and light red is the worst. It is best to have a few sparse, thin and long autumn grasses growing at the bottom of the morning glory as a foil.
——Yu Dafu's "Autumn in the Old Capital" is excerpted from "Collected Prose of Yu Dafu" 2 The victory of the Rocky Mountains lies in the stone and the snow. Those strange rocks and rocks, stacked on top of each other, create a thrilling sculpture exhibition for the sun and the thousands of miles of wind to see.
The snow is so white that it is illusory, and so cold that it is sobering. The overwhelming momentum of the snow makes it difficult to breathe, and makes people feel cold and sore. However, to appreciate the realm of "the white clouds look back and merge, and the blue mist enters to see nothingness", you still have to come to China.
Taiwan has a very high humidity, and it has the most enchanting atmosphere of clouds and rain. I stayed at Xitou twice at night, where the fragrance of the trees filled my nose, and the cold night hit my elbows. I pillowed on the moist green mountain shadows and the silence of thousands of people resting, and fell asleep like an immortal.
It rained heavily all night in the mountains. When I woke up the next morning, in the primitive silence before the rising sun, against the cold air of the previous night, I walked through broken branches and branches on the ground and thin streams of rainwater still flowing. The path explores the secrets of the forest, twists and turns, and walks up the mountain. On the mountain in Xitou, there are dense trees and thick fog. The rich water vapor rises slowly from the bottom of the valley, sometimes thick and sometimes thin. It is almost impossible to get a full view of the peaks and half ravines.
After going up the mountain at least twice, we can only play a hide-and-seek game with the peaks of Xitou in the vast white sky. ——Yu Guangzhong's "Listen to the Cold Rain" is excerpted from "Yu Guangzhong's Classic Works" 3 You may have kissed those red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple petals in your dreams, and now you must create in your imagination Yao, Huang, Wei, purple beans, green ink and gold. White Snow Pagoda, Bronze Bird Spring Brocade Tent, Hibiscus Smoke Velvet Purple Head Case, Red Fire Alchemy Pill...
Imagine the colorful auspicious clouds above Luoyang City reflected by peonies in the blooming season; imagine the fragrance of peonies trembling in the breeze and night dew; imagine being quilted Trees and houses full of flowers; imagine the grand scene of Luoyang City that has lasted for more than a thousand years, "the flowers bloom and fall for twenty days, and everyone in the city is crazy".
Actually you didn’t like peonies a long time ago. Because it is always worshiped as wealth.
Later, you witnessed the falling of peonies, and you believed that everyone would be moved by it: a breeze blew, and the delicate and fresh peonies in their prime suddenly fell down and spread all over the ground. petals. The petals were still bright and dazzling when they fell to the ground, like the shed feathers of a big bird offered on the altar, and left with a heroic lament.
When peonies have no flowers and fade, they either flicker on the branches or go away. Excerpt 2 of a beautiful passage
Excerpt 300 words of a beautiful passage 1
Life has entered the silent winter from autumn full of red maples. There is no need to miss the prosperous days of the past. Thousands of years ago, the truth of life was finally crystal clear in the heavy snow in the sky, and the fragrance was exuded proudly in the plum bones.
Let the tenderness in your hands spread into a world full of affection, use the most pure and true colors to render the fairy tale of plum and snow love, let the winter love song play between heaven and earth, and let a touch of beauty Start the happy road to spring.
Although Dong does not have any gorgeous decoration, it is favored by people for its broad-mindedness and honesty.
It is like a wise man, looking at the world with a clear and objective eye, allowing us to learn to think calmly, explore the essence of life by stripping away nothingness, and test human nature in a cold world. Asking the conscience, life meets the original self in returning to nature, and the soul is Zen in the pure world.
According to the context of the heart, integrate yourself into this plain and quiet time, taste the indifference of life in the fragrance of tea, and calm the care and concern in the faint fragrance of ink. Take a handful of pure white into your heart to wash away the dust in your heart; take a handful of cold plums into your arms, and the fragrance will penetrate your proud body. The meeting of souls, in this innocent fairy tale world, makes Qingcheng's tenderness hold hands with warmth for a lifetime!
Excerpt of 300 words of beautiful passage 2
Sit quietly in a corner, feel the breath of winter and listen to the voice of your heart as the seasons follow. Winter embraces all things with its silent affection, letting them lie in its arms and fall asleep deeply, but it guards that loneliness alone until the spring of the coming year and the flowers bloom, without any regrets. Winter leaves the color of life with the purest white; with the smile that looks back, the enchanting sky with love; with the simplest feelings, expresses the weight and forbearance.
The truth of life does not need too much cover. The landscape in the heart is engraved in the magnanimity. It is elegant and fragrant and never fades. Let the most beautiful scenery bloom quietly deep in the heart, with plain color and original fragrance. Real life allows the soul to bathe in the snowflakes in the sky and accept the baptism of winter. The sparkling life exudes the fragrance of the bones after the lead is washed away!
Born in the north, I have a unique feeling for winter. I like to exile my life in this pure world, letting life bloom in the cold wind and heavy snow.
The soil and water nurture a person. No matter how long he lives in a bustling city, his straightforward character and simple appearance have never changed. The whiteness of my hometown in winter is the hometown that haunts me. I wish Be an elegant flower in the snow, blooming plainly in the south of the Yangtze River in ink painting, a celadon flower in the Tang poetry and Song lyrics.
Excerpt of a beautiful passage of 300 words 3
When the willow buds grow into new green, the poplar flowers fade, and fresh small leaves appear again, then an insect will appear.
They are as big as soybeans, mostly black, but also brown. They are covered with very fine velveteen-like feathers, which are extremely cute. We call it "black radish bug" here. Every evening at dusk, they will fly to the bright green willow branches, often in rows. Each of us held a small bottle, caught them one by one, put them in, and then took them home to feed the greedy chickens.
We smiled and watched the chickens vying to eat, while grandma looked at us with a smile and said, we can lay more eggs tomorrow.
The young heart has another joy of expectation.
Chunliu gave me countless happiness in childhood and became a beautiful memory in my life. She is the most beautiful rhyme of spring, carrying hope and beauty, accompanying me through the dark and bright seasons one after another. Excerpt 3 of passages with beautiful artistic conception
Looking for a place in life, lay down a trace of ink
I once yearned for the talented poet's fingertips; I once yearned for the bird that spread its wings and flew high. The thousands of mountains and rivers in my children's eyes; I once longed for the sweet happiness of lovers holding hands in the beautiful night market. But longing is just longing after all. Without the foundation of reality, you can never pick up the stars in your heart. Life is so full of regrets, it starts in the busyness and ends in the busyness,
Dongshan cannot hold up the heavy golden crow, the autumn rain as light as gauze dances freely, and the cold jade beads Sprinkled among the withered yellow grass, it awakens the sleeping insects. The hoarse chirping expresses the sadness of autumn. All things have restrained their vitality and cast a dead silence on the earth. The branches are fat and the leaves are thin, the clear waves are rippling, the fallen leaves are rustling, the lonely shadow in the sky, the amber eyes are filled with gray light, chewing the cup alone.
The season of falling flowers has quietly come again, and the sad rain and autumn wind are blowing The beautiful pale pink petals have fallen, and the peonies in the world of mortals bid farewell while singing soberly. The flower market in autumn is no longer brilliant, and suddenly becomes quiet. Unexpectedly, I discovered the colorful and fragrant peonies with a leisurely look.
The water flows in September, but October is still young. The autumn rain is continuous, forming a mist. Tianmen Mountain is transformed into emerald green leaves, and the green moss reflects on the stone walls. Look at the quiet shadow of the bridge, and count the fine texture of the river water; I leaned against the moss on the stone fence to warm it, and the moss cooled my clothes. The sky was gloomy, and it seemed that I was going to be blown by the gentle river breeze that never stopped. of falling. The river is just like it was thousands of years ago
Holding a piece of fragrance in your hand, you feel at ease in your heart, put away your fragile heart, look at the clouds in the sky, and look at the flowers in front of the courtyard. Flowers and flowers bloom, let everything take its course, and accept this sudden sadness with peace of mind.
One leaf falls and the world knows autumn. In the desolation of autumn, I can only feel the coolness of the night in my sleep. The moon is falling in the maple forest, and the clothes and dew are competing for the music. Under the dim light of the pale moon, I could vaguely see the blue waves of Long Lake; the gauzy willow shadows on the lakeshore; the huge sycamore leaves under the patches of red buildings; the bright green lawn turned into a yellow earth color as far as the eye could see; The tender petals fall with the wind, gradually drifting away, sometimes falling delicately on the roadside
Still holding the pipa
A wisp of flying clouds, a few bays of passing water. It's agile, passing lightly across the lake, and its beauty is more subtle. Beside the broken bridge, countless pale green lotus leaves swayed quietly in the wind, and lotus flowers grew against the clouds. It is unclear whether the clouds are white lotus flowers or whether the lotus flowers are pink clouds. Why should the great beauty in the world be a spectacle? If you think it's beautiful, it's beautiful. Maybe this lacks charm, when the snowflakes are flying in succession
When fate is gone and people are separated, the flowers fall with the water when I look back
Inscription: Every time I walk alone in the vast sea of ??people, I Always looking at every figure passing by. That simple young man is in my eyes. Who is in the young man’s eyes, and who am I in my eyes? These are all unknowable. The boy and I may have really looked back five hundred times in our previous lives before we passed each other by this time in this life.
Meeting is a fun thing,