The Book of Songs, the national style, the prosperity of Nan Zhou Guanluo, and the white dew frost. The so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
People who know me in The Book of Songs, National Style and Qin Feng make me worry; If you don't know me, what do you want? Who is this? "The Book of Songs, National Style, Feng Wang and Su Parting" uses Xiao, but it doesn't appear for a day, such as Xi. The Book of Songs, National Style, Feng Wang and Caige is graceful and graceful.
"The Book of Songs, National Style, Zheng Feng and Ji Zi" I passed away in the past, and a bright future has emerged. Now think about it, it is raining and snowing. The Book of Songs, Xiaoya Cai Wei, is the stone of other mountains, which can attack jade. (The Book of Songs Xiaoya heming) Hold your hand and grow old with your son.
"The Book of Songs, National Wind, High Wind and Drumming" is twinkling, and I have no food. When I was three years old, I was willing to take care of you. When I die, I will find my daughter and live in a happy place.
(Feng Wei said).
2. How to write a composition with the most classic passages in the Book of Songs?
On this side of the long years, on the night when the spring rain is falling, I turned on the orange light, opened the picture scroll of ancient poetry, untied the mooring line under the ancient trees on the lonely lake in the Book of Songs, set sail offshore, and traveled through the Millennium storm to find the hazy figure of Little Three in Tsing Yi in the Book of Songs, which made me feel sad.
The mainland in the river under the waning moon, lingering and green Ruyan Liu, vaguely like a dream, comes lightly, like rain hitting my quiet heart pool. This is a poetic cry. Looking back at the depths, endless lovesickness and nostalgia always wander in the chirp: My Fair Lady. This beautiful poem is the sail that every lonely watchman waits for.
The sun shines on the mountains, undulating and winding. I tied the reins in the shadow of the big tree and let the grass talk to the tired horse softly. A horn cup with bright stripes, filled with thoughts that I can't hold in my heart. In the wind, my chapped lips sipped sadness full of wind flowers: I love, I am a horse, I care about him, but I will never be hurt. This kind of sadness has crossed the infinite time and space and filled my chest.
Taoyao, burning its China, its Ye Zhenzhen, poetry and painting. Such a beautiful scenery, such a beautiful life, let the melancholy eyes turn into the spring water of Ying Ying, with tender feelings. Peach blossoms are like people, people are like peach blossoms, and falling petals are dotted in the favorites of memories, so that peach-like thoughts linger in dreams. Green leaves are exquisitely soaked in honey-like sunshine, and golden veins flow happily in the bottom of my heart like streams. Life used to be as beautiful as peach petals, but poetry was as fragrant as green leaves.
When the fog cleared and the wind blew gently, the girl who used to be in the corner of the city smiled like a sunflower. The wind and frost of three thousand years is only light on her charming face, and the beautiful charm remains the same. Her gentle love makes me ecstatic. The delicate and slender red tube grass and rosy stripes shine on my heart like a girl's love. It is a love story, and the flute rhyme of acacia is pure and flawless, otherwise it is not an emerald diamond ring, but it is better than an emerald diamond ring. Give me a peach and return it to Qiong Yao. I repay her with a beautiful heart, and knowing her is my blessing for a thousand years. I would like to take her boating, fold a book of songs into a paper crane and fly with her in the morning light of 2 1 century.
Love is an eternal swimming, and it can't stop. Love is the tacit understanding of the soul, always wading away. For my dream, I keep my promise. Reed will grow old, but acacia will not grow old. The white dew is frost, and the so-called Iraqis are on the water side. Reed testifies, Bailu testifies, looking through autumn water like a fossil, life is still waiting without regrets. Tracing back from it, the road is blocked and long. Tracing back from it, it is in the middle of the water. I can't feel your orchid-like breath, but I can see your beautiful image in the hazy moonlight: "The moon is bright, people are beautiful, Shu Yao corrects me, and I am tired." In the sultry moonlight, your graceful figure makes my yearning heart restless, like the surging river in the moonlight for thousands of years.
Love is like the four seasons, flowers bloom and fall, green and fat are red and thin, autumn is full and winter is dry, and the four seasons change colors. Vicissitudes make love rich and beautiful: spring spreads, summer grows, autumn matures and winter is calm. In the past, I was gone, and Liu Shu was Yi Yi. Today, I was thinking that it was raining. This desolation of falling snow, who can solve that helplessness and loneliness, and how can it be carried by shallow acacia?
I can't sleep on the night of spring rain, and the shallow rain is beating on the poem and wetting my dream. So, in the orange light and shadow, I untied the cable and rowed upstream to find the back of Acacia in the Book of Songs. The back is like a flute, sorrowful and blurred, which is the immortal soul of the Book of Songs.
3. Composition of the Book of Songs Write a composition of 1500 words on the title of the Book of Songs and cross the river of the Book of Songs.
Guan Guan Sui dove, in Hezhou. When I open the first page of the Book of Songs, the river always blocks my way, so that I can't really enter the life behind the words. This is a river without a name, which records ancient love and farming. The waves more than two thousand years ago splashed my mossy sandals. Who ever approached the water's edge, singing and crying-how to explain these lost shadows and keep the free soul? Ladies and gentlemen, husbands and passers-by, mothers and children, and even time and memory face each other across the same river, forming a day and night cycle. Now, with the help of thin paper, it interrupts the singing of the ancestors and the listening of the younger generation-this river is related to blood, tradition and China people. The milky way on earth. This shore is a city with high-rise buildings, gear etiquette vehicles and brightly lit lights, and the other shore is a village girl who gathers roses and prays for rain, and a scattered tribe who lives by fishing and hunting. ...
Song of elegance. Fu Bixing. The Book of Songs will bring you into a densely populated area, and the diffuse water mist will come on your face and blur your glass lens. The Book of Songs itself is a river, a river of words. Reading under the lamp, would you like to be a snorkeling fish? Oh, swimming in the palm print of the Book of Songs. The ancient floating clouds and the sound of waves are inherited in our veins and have formed a tributary of that river. Because of time, we will always live in the lower reaches of the Book of Songs, feel its fragrance and accept its nurturing. This is a river without a name, which can't be verified on the map, but the plants along the river are extremely famous. His name is Jia Jian. This is a plant related to love. We must not forget it.
We can't go back to the era of the Book of Songs, the era of men plowing and women weaving, and the simplicity and innocence of the ancients. It was human childhood-so the Book of Songs echoed with children's voices as bright as silver bells, which could not be imitated. In the reality full of desire and loudspeakers, this belongs to nature. It is happy to be an audience of nature. The ancients knotted the tangled music melody into notes, and the pastoral songs made by rough hands whipped our sophisticated souls: where should we graze our lost childlike innocence? We are empty-handed, have nothing, and have lost our original romance and * * *. The river in the Book of Songs has been flowing for more than 2,000 years, and countless readers along the coast are drinking water and thinking about the source. This folk river.
"Kan Kan cuts sandalwood, the river is dry, the river is clear, and the blue waves are rippling." The woodcutter on the shore, with a vague face and his back to me, is engaged in an eternal career. I only noticed a shiny axe raised above my head. The whole Book of Songs echoed with the sound of an axe chopping down trees. Tonight, the ancient axe struck my numb eardrum again. This reminds us that in the long river of years, there are still a group of people sticking to it. ...
4. If there is a book of songs in the composition, who will think of writing a sentence in the book of songs?
When reciting these poems, I was surprised to find that they have never stopped living a beautiful and elegant life. I found myself at a loss when my soul communicated with them affectionately.
It records all the vicissitudes of life. With her beautiful face, she has precipitated almost all China's poems-The Book of Songs, which contains so many essences.
The Millennium is frost. The so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
Guan Heming's osprey, accompanied by the small continent of the river. A beautiful and virtuous woman is a good spouse of a gentleman.
How many husbands have this generation of beautiful women caused to sleep? Beauty is like words, just like Wang Guowei's evaluation of good words, "bone show" is also "divine show"
Looking back, she witnessed all the parting and pain. Who would have thought of this injury?
Recalling the original exploration, the wind in Yang Liuyi was blowing in the wind; Now back on the road, snowflakes are flying everywhere. It rained when I thought of it today.
The woman sighing beside Chai Fei's hometown is still waiting for her husband who has not returned from the Long March. Facing the pain of the past, she entrusted everything to me. And I have a deep pain-how many people are willing to listen to her now, scoff at her sigh, but flaunt their personality in the red lips of the street.
Every time she chats with her friends, she laughs at the unnecessary sentimentality of The Book of Songs and is deeply intoxicated with vulgar love. I don't understand, can't we be proud of this language and culture as Chinese people?
I was fascinated by the simplicity of Chinese, and she integrated all the ultimate beauty into the Book of Songs. Did her lotus-like purity and deep feeling of adding fragrance to tea surprise you and comfort you?
I don't care that The Book of Songs blooms but doesn't bear fruit. I only care about the life released when she blooms * * * This is a brilliant portrayal of my desire.
Let the flowers be beautiful forever.
'
I don't know where to help me write a composition about the Book of Songs.
Cut to your topic. Running water, piano music, canoe
And the swish of birds. slip
Whose loneliness is covered by green and white water plants?
I seem to be only one paddle away from you.
But I can't draw a melancholy spring.
The wind has been blowing for three thousand years, blowing away generations.
Some dust and robbery! Cross the river,
How many women are there?
When your sleeves spend the night
I finally can't sleep. An uneasy sofa
Shake down with the wind and float to the bottom of my heart.
Sit and see where there's less water—
There is also a wave of bells and drums.
◎ It has nothing to do with Ge Tan.
Before, we didn't talk about women.
Always talking about orioles, why do you want to be surnamed Huang?
Some people say that its head is yellow;
Others say it's because of Huang's minions,
And any yellow organ you can think of.
In fact, they are all very wrong.
That's fucking yellow. They are all yellow.
The oriole got into the bush.
Cover yourself with Ge Ye again, and we won't be able to see.
Those dirty stories. Fortunately,
Although the yellow body is lost.
Yellow jokes, but still screaming.
Yellow saliva flows far away.
The first line of spring water is flooding.
Pick one's ear
It is said that a leaf represents a yearning.
If you collect every leaf, you will miss it.
Without pity or restriction.
Heap at the top of time.
Now, I want to pay attention to all sentient beings.
Think about their survival, the root of their survival.
I wonder, who will be the curly ear in my basket?
Who did I miss?
Maybe I'm just a dog's tail grass,
As time goes by, pose.
Then, cheat a sense of decline.
And send sorrow to the world.
The night didn't change, when I went to the window again
There are endless curly ears, clustered like plates.
6. I am eager for a master. How to write the Book of Songs about the composition of The Book of Songs.
The four seasons cycle, the flowers bloom, the new buds of Osmunda japonica have grown up, and the lights in the distance are still on. Every road leads to my home, but I can't go home. I fantasize about going back and blowing out its wait. I fantasized for a year! One year! I fought with you at the end of the world. In front of a busy killer, I never stopped, just to keep fighting with you.
Flowers bloom and fall, winter goes and spring comes. The delicate Osmunda japonica has just put out the tender green buds, trying to penetrate the hillside of the field and the frozen stream. A light is still on in the distance, and a gentle killer is worried at night. Full of sad seeking eruption, muddy village, no touching pain, all the days are covered with thorns, xanthium and tears. The defense is like the sea, and the tide rises and falls. I'm on a stormy ship, staring blankly. I have a swan goose delivering letters, and I don't know where to fly.
Osmunda japonica has long forks. You are sitting at the end of the corridor where I miss you, and suddenly you are covered by another October depicted by rain, snow and wind. The war in the kingdom riveted my feet, pressing them day and night, and my heart was vague and painful. I am afraid that the fire will go out and the flowers will fall, so I will let my youth be buried somewhere else.
In my sleep, I heard the sound of flowers blooming, Fang Fei Tang Dihua; Horses cross the cold river, the wind lifts their shirts, the stars roar, the sound of fire burning, the sound of city collapse, and the desolation and chaos of the years. Who can ask to live in peace? As long as I have a knife, I will let the attacker run away in rout.
China's car is slow, his armor and sword are full of grandeur, and he is always ready to deal with it. Chariots, horses, fish skins, rocket launchers, carved bows, and continuous beacon smoke. Guards with halberds never take off their armor. I waited coldly, the bonfire lit, the horn sounded and I was ready to attack.
Finally, I am tired, please allow me to stop running. I hold my brother. Do you still remember the willow in my hometown? Remember how many acacia tears fell on the land you stepped on? Remember where your blood was left in the mud? Do you remember? There are many people waiting for your return under the tree in the distance.
I rushed to the raft for thousands of days and nights, but I was already white-haired.
I remember when I left, the willow smile and the warmth of the sun touched by the breeze seemed like yesterday; Now I'm back, one foot is heavy, but the other foot is nowhere to be found, forgetting the broken dust and the residual flowers with blood and tears. Zero dew and bitterness, I came back, nothing, I stretched out my hands empty-
Let snow cover my heart.
7. Complete prose describing the combination of the Book of Songs. What I want to appreciate is "Jia Jian" in the Book of Songs.
From The White Dew is Frost. The so-called Iraqis are on the water side. "It can be seen that the author is particularly obsessed with" Iraqis ". As for the degree of infatuation, "back, the road is long; Swim back from it in the middle of the water. " . From this point on, the author began to pursue "Iraqis". As for who is the "Iraqi people"? Is it a man or a woman? Or a form or a spirit, we don't know. But in the author's eyes, "Yi" is supreme, and it is a spiritual substance that no one can replace.
From the first, second and third chapters, it is not difficult to see that "Iraqis" always stand out of the author's reach and keep a certain distance from him. So that the author always looks at "Iraqis" with a view of "looking at flowers in the fog and looking at the moon in the water". Blind pursuit, "Iraqis" are like flowers in the clouds, which makes people unpredictable.
"Sword armor" begins with "Sword armor, egret". This song "Jiaxu" blooms in autumn and is pale, which shows the depth and urgency of love.
The whole song "Sword Armor" revolves around the search for "Iraqis", which is always changeable.
The first chapter of Jia Xu is Ang Yun, the second chapter is I Yun, and the third chapter is I Yun. The whole article looks dense and orderly, and the "Iraqi people" in the article brings a dreamy feeling to the article.
I found that the format of "from top to bottom" is the same, but the number of chapters is different.
The first chapter of "Talk to the Top" is about I rhyme, the second chapter is about I rhyme, the third chapter is messy and does not rhyme, and the fourth chapter is about I rhyme. I found that the "superior" Otawa I rhymed neatly.
I also found that Guan Ju and Jia Xu are very similar, both pursuing the same thing, but one is just one person. For the "gentleman" inside, the woman she pursues is also her inner love. Similarly, Guan Luo and Luo Jian are also fascinated by the white color of Alan Yu. The official gongs are covered with white sandbars, while Luo Jian is covered with a plant called Egret.
The gentleman and lady in Guanju represent the taste of China people, and the orientals are always confused by love, but Guanju is so simple, which shows how simple and clear the ancient people's thoughts are.