Narcissus opens prose 1 Mother moves out of the house to be with her. It is a place similar to a quadrangle. Strange people live there.
Mother brought back some daffodil bulbs. She took a basin, filled it with some soil, buried it at will, and left it in the corner regardless.
Every day before dawn, a group of workers who come to work get up and have fun. Make her even sadder. They didn't come back until late. The music played until late at night.
One day, she happened to see a migrant worker squatting in front of a flowerpot. She didn't go there. The migrant worker stood up with mud in his hand. Then he brought some water and watered it carefully. Those gentle eyes seem to be taking care of his children, not a flower. After the migrant workers left. She went to have a look, and the messed-up flowers were planted neatly. She walked away.
The daffodils began to spit out green leaves.
One day she went to bed very late, and an old aunt who lived next door knocked at the door: "Get up quickly, you will be late." She woke up from a nightmare in an instant.
Mom works outside all day. She wants to grab something to eat on the street to fill her stomach. The old aunt asked, "Have you eaten?" "Not yet, I'm going to eat in the street." The old aunt quickly grabbed her: "It happened that my family cooked too much, so come to my house to eat. Eating in the street is expensive and unclean. "
So she solved three meals a day in the old aunt's kitchen.
The green leaf arrow has been stretched long and straight.
She is doing her homework. She saw the old aunt gently watering the flowerpot with a water ladle in her hand, muttering, "This girl can't grow flowers."
Flower arrow timidly squeezed out, hiding in the cicada-like film, silently brewing feelings waiting for opening.
The old aunt sent her food as soon as she had it, rushed in, put it down and rushed out. Too fast to refuse. Or there are green cabbages in front of the door every morning. She received her old aunt's sugar, bergamot, glutinous rice steamed bread, jujube cake, rock sugar taro, yellow watermelon, cabbage ... too much for her to think about.
It has blossomed, with six white petals and a yellow corolla like a wine glass. It's a golden lamp and jade platform. The faint fragrance also overflowed the small corner.
The flowers are blooming, and the workers are packing this thing and leaving this place. The migrant workers who helped her plant flowers brought fresh longan, a specialty of Putian, which was heavy and weighed several kilograms. She asked him why he helped her grow flowers. He said with a smile that his little daughter also likes flowers. She asked why the music was played. He is still laughing, saying that flowers need to listen to songs to be in a good mood.
She stopped asking questions and sent a flower to the migrant workers. Send some longan to my aunt.
Peel an longan and put it in your mouth, and the sweet and greasy taste spreads in your mouth instantly.
She smiled at daffodils from the bottom of her heart.
Narcissus Prose 2 Muttered songs seem to be a hypnotic melodious song, light, gentle, free and easy, warm and quiet, and happy. On one side is a warm coffee table, steaming, giving people a very calm feeling. Sitting in front of the computer, quietly tapping on the keyboard, my thoughts are green and dripping around. Narcissus was "seduced" and fell into a dream ...
A wet dream, long-lost indifference, this full sense of satisfaction has been missing for a long time. A friend said that your feelings seem divorced from your reality, and you can't seem to find your wet words! Actually, I've been here. People's ideals are different, and their ideological realm is of course different.
Climb the nearby hills on weekends. The hills are small, but because it is spring, the mountains are all green and filled with green love. There are two artificial mountain roads from the foot of the mountain to the top of the mountain, which are flat and safe, but I choose a quiet and steep path to enter the depths of the mountain. Many trees with different growth cycles cling to each other, and there is a lot of gravel on the road. As soon as I step on it, pebbles will roll down. Because shoes are just ordinary casual shoes, it is a bit difficult to climb mountains. There is no choice but to break a stick with a relatively uniform thickness on a small tree next to me to support it.
Maybe it's spring. Those miscellaneous stones are covered with weeds, which makes me tremble. There may be some terrible animals on the mountain, but I soon denied my timidity. The spring in Xiaobei is not completely warm, and the small animals are still afraid of catching a cold, so they won't say hello to me so early.
Climbing halfway up the mountain, I saw a stone house similar to a bunker. When I explored its depths, I found it was an old stone house. I don't know the specific time, but I guess its owner must be a refined person (it seems a little unreasonable or far-fetched, and I want to explain the concept, as for the original intention ... you know). Even if he is a farmer, what kind of life should it be: when the gentle sunshine passes through the dense forest, it should be exploration. Soft sunshine breaks the "glass" and shines on the owner's face, arousing the owner to start a day's work or think with warmth, or look at Walden Lake like Rousseau and watch the mountains gradually become full of philosophy ...
Walking into the stone house, I saw a small ditch that seemed to be dry but not dry. Actually, it can't be called a ditch. As elegant as a miniature version of yunlong lake. A few grasses can stand loneliness and quietly accompany the reflection of the stone house. Quietly, the wind blows, but you can't see their ripples. Silently, they don't know the future, but they also know that the future is slowly passing away! Maybe one day in the dead winter, all we can see in the sun is withering …
Walking along the stone house, leaning on a wooden stick, step by step, I occasionally saw several tourists shuttling through the Woods on the mountain. Maybe they will see what I can't see, but I appreciate what they can't peep at, or maybe they will find a struggling man climbing the stairs halfway up the mountain with a telescope, but not the staff in the scenic spot, but a curious young man …
I have seen many beautiful scenery and spent a long time daydreaming. Just because reality fills the only situation in my heart here, I am slowly losing my poetry. Just like now, I am entrusted with a "heavy responsibility" by the social Committee and I am running around in reality. My friend Otawa here is as silent as I am, and occasionally writes such dry words …
At this moment, I thought that if I put one of the two daffodils on the table into the little "yunlong lake" I met in the mountains, I would take good care of the other daffodil next to me. Think about it. If I meet another person with daffodils in a few years, I think it will be when daffodils bloom and the two flowers will meet. ...
This will probably be a beautiful historical drama …
Looking at the daffodils beside me quietly, it seems that they are smiling at me and crying …
Turn off the computer, water the flowers, and don't let me see their tears …
Narcissus blooms prose 3 Narcissus blooms, full of fragrance.
Ten days before the start of school, when my mother and I were shopping in the market, we accidentally saw daffodils sold on tricycles. Surprisingly, the daffodils have sprouted buds, which is even more charming. Mother is also a person who loves flowers and plants, so naturally she bought one with great joy.
In fact, I have never known daffodils, and I have never seen daffodils. I only know that daffodils are the embodiment of a Greek mythical figure. But daffodils are delicate, neither hot nor cold, and they are very picky about the growing environment, so they always walk around and wait on them carefully, and dare not slack off. I hope I can see flowers and smell flowers before school starts, but the weather is really cold, and the buds that have been in bloom for a long time are reluctant to open.
Waiting, the time always seems particularly long, but it is in a hurry to bloom. Unlike waiting for people, you can make a phone call to urge. Sometimes I stare at daffodils and think, "Why don't you blossom?" Seeing the school day approaching, the daffodils still did not move. I hope these flowers will bloom before I go to school. I always water daffodils when I am free every day, but I am afraid that too much water will drown the flowers, so I only water them a little at a time. Sometimes I suddenly run out of the room to see if the flowers on the balcony will surprise me; Sometimes I have a strange prayer before going to bed at night, hoping that the daffodils will bloom before I go to school.
The cold weather has affected the opening date of daffodils, but I am still anxious for hope. What makes me even more anxious is to see the daffodils on the tricycle fully open in the street. The poetic combination of white and green can faintly smell the faint fragrance from a distance, and it is refreshing through the dust and automobile exhaust in the street. But when I got home, Narcissus was still not moved by my "true feelings" and showed no signs of flowering.
I know the daffodils on the tricycle live in the greenhouse, not as cold as it is outside. However, the daffodils at home have no greenhouse, no suitable temperature and insufficient illumination, and bad weather always hinders the arrival of flowers. Fortunately, two days before coming to school, the bud finally moved, but it was still again, as if time had frozen.
The flowers are blooming skillfully again. Originally, I was very discouraged, but on the morning when I got to school, it was still gray because I got up early. I smelled a scent of flowers excitedly, stronger and more fragrant than what I smelled in the street. Facing the coolness of the morning, flowers overflowed the whole balcony.
The daffodils at home are finally in bloom. Although it is not as good-looking as in the greenhouse, it smells more thoroughly. Although the daffodils at home do not have a comfortable environment, they are as colorful as flowers. Life is always unhappy, just like daffodils at home, lacking a greenhouse. But daffodils are still in full bloom
As the Japanese poet Kazuko Watanabe wrote in "Where you are, take root and blossom": Where you are, there will be flowers. Don't forget to smell because you are sad.
Narcissus opening essay 4 Narcissus is neither enchanting nor charming. Small white petals protect the golden stamens and stand quietly in the lush green leaves. She doesn't compete with flowers, but in the middle of winter, she is graceful and fragrant, bringing people spring.
Whenever winter comes, Amao will carefully select a pot of daffodils and put them in his wife Xiu Xiu's room. Twenty years ago, Amao, a handsome young man working in a provincial government office, fell in love with Xiu Xiu, an ordinary worker. Their love is so pure and infatuated. At that time, Xiu Xiu suffered from ovarian myoma and needed surgery. Many people advised Amao: Wait until Xiu Xiu finishes the operation before getting married, or what if Xiu Xiu can't have children after the operation? Amao and Xiu Xiu got marriage certificates! After that, I had an operation. The doctor carefully removed the tumor and told Xiu Xiu that it was benign and that she could have a baby when she recovered.
One year has passed, two years have passed ... Xiu Xiu has never been pregnant, and Amao's love for Xiu Xiu has not changed at all, and the young couple are loving each other. Ten years later, it seems that Xiu Xiu is going to have a baby at last. Amao and Xiu Xiu were very happy. Amao not only supplements Xiu Xiu with nutrition every day, but also prepares various anti-abortion drugs and anti-abortion drugs.
Is God playing a trick on people? Or is this how fate is decided? After careful examination by the doctor: Xiu Xiu's abdomen is not a fetus, but a tumor, a malignant tumor! Xiu Xiu collapsed, desperate! Xiu Xiu was laid off a few years ago, and his life depends entirely on Amao. If he doesn't give Amao a son and a half, how can he deserve a husband who loves him? Amao decided decisively to save his wife even if he lost everything!
Amao chose the best hospital and found the best doctor. Before and after the operation, Amao cared about Xiu Xiu just as narcissus petals cared about stamens. ...
The doctor said that Xiu Xiu could live for a month at most, but Amao ignored him and gave Xiu Xiu 300,000 savings. Amao only accompanies Xiu Xiu for a walk, chatting, watching TV and surfing the Internet after work ... Amao never smokes or drinks, nor plays cards or mahjong. Someone advised Mao: People in their early forties will want Xiu Xiu sooner or later ... Why not divorce Xiu Xiu legally first, and then marry and have children in the same room? Including Xiu Xiu agreed, because Xiu Xiu's body has long been unable to live a normal husband and wife life with Amao. But Amao flatly refused: "Xiu Xiu is the only woman in my heart!" Yes, Amao's heart is crystal, and Xiu Xiu can only put it down. Taoxin is so rare and precious among the rich people who "live outside" and "spend outside" in this world!
One month has passed, two months have passed ... Three years have passed. In the anti-cancer club, Xiu Xiu grew a black hair on his scalp after chemotherapy. Xiu Xiu laughs and laughs every day. She said, "I have to live a few more days because I have such a good man!" "
Seeing that this year is coming, New Year's Eve is coming, and the lush daffodils in Xiu Xiu's room are in bud. ...
Narcissus prose 5 Winter, snowflakes flying. Heaven and earth are boundless.
Narcissus blooms shyly on the desk by the window. Green leaves are hidden in beautiful flowers, graceful and fragrant, just like water fairies, bringing elegant and warm style to the late winter dusk.
Speaking of daffodils, I feel a little guilty. A few years ago, it was also winter and snow dance season. The first time I played daffodils, I peeled off the flower balls, carved them a little, and then kept them in a water bowl. When it is about to bloom, move it to a flowerpot filled with water and stones.
However, on New Year's Eve, the buds wrapped in leaf membranes are still reluctant to open. Leaves and stems grow taller and denser, which often usurps the role of host. I was anxious and angry. I picked up scissors and cut off many leaves and stems uniformly. As a result, the daffodils withered and never opened again.
During the Spring Festival that year, groups of students came to pay New Year greetings. Teachers and students get together and feel happy. However, seeing this pot of daffodils, everyone can't help feeling a little sorry.
The following winter, a student nicknamed "Thin Poet" who had graduated for several years sent me some flowers and silently helped me fix them. Every few days, he comes to see the growth. From then on, he sent daffodils every year, and he cultivated them carefully.
His body is still so thin and his eyes are still so pure. Once, he told me that in Greek mythology, daffodils were regarded as the embodiment of beautiful men. Legend has it that he did not love any girl, but fell in love with his own shadow in the water. When he jumped into the water and embraced the shadow, the soul bid farewell to his body and suddenly became a beautiful daffodil. ...
I know that the "thin poet" is this beautiful daffodil. Ideal and reality are transformed into a wonderful poem. When he told the story, his shriveled chest fluctuated violently and his eyes sparkled with tears. Then he looked at me as if he had listened to my lecture carefully. I stared at the budding daffodils and looked at the grown-up students, but I didn't know what to say.
At that time, his grades were average, but he was obsessed with the muse, and his poems were constantly seen in newspapers. He is always absent-minded in class. Pure eyes often focus on the blue sky and white clouds outside the window. If a student is judged by his exam ranking, he is obviously a "poor student". Therefore, at the class meeting, I once asserted: What's the use of writing poems if you don't get good grades? The whole class burst into laughter, his face flushed and his eyes dimmed. He didn't argue.
After graduation, he worked hard and became the teaching backbone of a primary school. He persisted in writing, became a famous young poet and became a professional writer. He comes to see me every year. When he published his poems, he asked me to preface him.
At this moment, daffodils are in full bloom as scheduled, just like the innocent smiling face of the "thin poet". The flowers are as white as clouds. Huang Cancan is like the sunshine in the clouds. Like a fresh and elegant poem, it adds infinite fun and warmth to my winter.
It suddenly occurred to me, is it too impolite for me to look at such a pure student with a secular eye? When I reprimanded my students self-righteously, did I stifle their creativity and self-esteem? The "thin poet" has been taking care of daffodils for me for several years. Isn't he trying to tell me something quietly?
The ancients said, "Teaching and learning learn from each other." I have been teaching for more than 30 years, proud of teaching and educating people, proud of spreading human civilization, and feel good about myself. However, what I learned from the students and the sincerity I felt purified my life and shocked my soul. ...
Outside the window, snowflakes are falling. I can't help but think of a poem by Tagore: "On snowy days, my heart is pure." My eyes are a little moist. In the dim light, I saw daffodils smiling at me, just like the innocent face of a "thin poet".
I think we can't wait for him to go home this Spring Festival. I want to extend my sincere New Year greetings to him first. ...