The story of Wang Chun's letter to his family is composed. Although a country is divided, mountains and rivers remain forever, and spring returns to green trees and grasslands.
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, Chang 'an City is empty, sparsely populated, and the vegetation is dense and deep. The first couplet focuses on the overall situation and is a tragic pen. A word "broken" makes people stunned, and a word "deep" makes people feel sad everywhere. The laws of nature will not change with the changes of the times. The contrast between personnel and eternal time and space makes the poet feel more desolate and lonely in his heart before he can see it. The vegetation is deep and there is no one in the Ming Dynasty. "This couplet is a description of the scenery, but it is actually lyrical, affectionate and attached to the scenery. In the Ming Dynasty, Hu Zhenheng's "Tang Yin Gui Qian" praised this couplet: "The antithesis is not precise, the vertical and horizontal changes, the more rigid, the more subtle, the more ingenious, and the hundred generations are not rebellious. "Petals fall like tears, and lonely birds sing their sadness.
Sentimental state affairs, in the face of flowers, tears can't help but splash, relatives are separated, birds are thrilling, and feelings increase resentment. Couplets start from a small place, and feelings are born of scenes, and scenes move with feelings. There are two explanations for its meaning: one is that it is a kind of comparative writing. The poet is sad for the broken country and the departure of his relatives, so he cries when he sees flowers and is shocked when he hears birds singing. It is all to show the poet's deep sense of time and yearning for parting, and its wonderful metaphor is really rare. Sima Guang commented in Wen Gong's Continued Poems: "It is more valuable than words, which makes people think and get it." After three months of war, a piece of news from home is worth a ton of gold.
The continuous war has lasted for more than half a year, and there is little family news. A letter is worth tens of thousands of gold. The first sentence in the necklace says that the war is long, and the second sentence says that the news is isolated. Although I was talking about myself, I accurately summed up the common psychology of my relatives in the war and showed humanity, so it later became the common language for people to express their hope for a letter from home in chaos. The fifth poem of Yu Dafu's "Gift" says: "A paper letter from home is worth a ton of gold, and Shaoling has this sense of language. From the November Anshi Rebellion in the 14th year of Tianbao (755) to the writing of Spring Hope, it happened to be two March, so it was called "March in a row". I stroke my white hair. It has become so thin that it can no longer hold hairpins.
Worried, I scratched my head and thought, my white hair is getting shorter and shorter, and my hair is falling off, so short and few that I can hardly insert it. The previous couplets are about my worries about the country and my family, which are profound and tragic. "Whitehead" is born of trouble, and "scratching" means trouble. Shorter means more and more worrying.
According to the composition of Spring Hope, write this article with Du Fu as the first person.
The Hope of Spring Spring has come, and I am still in Chang 'an. Why do you ask me so sad? What should I say?
You see, the houses not far away have long been deserted, leaving only the surrounding vegetation growing wildly.
Why is this happening? I looked up at the sky, ah, this Chang 'an has fallen.
Thick and deep vegetation covers the devastation everywhere, but the fragmentation of this country is a history that can't be covered by any means.
Well, why don't I feel sad? What's more, there is still no news from home.
I stood at the top of the mountain and looked into the distance.
The distant green hills still stand, and the clear streams still flow, reflecting dazzling brilliance. "Alas," when I saw the beautiful flowers and heard the euphemistic birds singing, I was never happy, but looked up at the distant sky and sighed.
Looking down, I thought of the rise and fall of the country, and the family was ruined. A feeling of sadness welled up in my heart, and tears quietly appeared in my eyes.
It suddenly occurred to me that the war seemed to last for half a year.
In the past six months, the war has been raging, and there have been countless casualties.
The war has lasted so long, I wonder how things are at home? No ... there won't be! I shook my head and tried to suppress my thoughts, but I couldn't help but walk past with anxious steps.
"What's the matter with relatives? There will be ... "Suddenly startled, and soliloquize, shook his head, stopped to scratch his head, but how also uneasy.
If someone is at the foot of the mountain at this time, please look up. At the top of the mountain, an old man was isolated here.
The old man's white hair is blown by the wind and fluttering. In a blink of an eye, only a few sparse but still white hairs are left, so short that they can no longer be combed.
Unfortunately, there is no one at the foot of the mountain, only me isolated at the top of the mountain. ...
It's too fast to write a composition of about 200~300 words with Du Fu's Spring Hope.
It's spring, and there are many weeds.
The war took away happiness, prosperity and former prosperity.
My heart is burning, but I can't.
I am looking forward to hearing from my family, but I am full of sadness and can't feel tears. Is the wind and sand in my eyes, or sadness.
When I get up in the morning, I can't even compare with treasures.
The pain of national subjugation is heartbroken, and the sadness of leaving home is bald.
Hair is rare, but even silver hair is sparse.
Hair is falling off day by day, birds are singing and flowers are blooming. This is a good scenery, and the mountain is still there. I miss my family and feel homesick. I rolled up the dust all over the sky, confused and sad, and left my hometown to die. No, but the real spring hasn't come yet.
Helpless.
After March, the war continued.
The only thing left is helplessness, and things don't turn back; Alas, there are dusty leaves everywhere.
The cold wind crossed the border, but the bitterness in my heart made me cry. It's spring, but Chang 'an is desolate everywhere. ...
1 the country is ruined, and only the mountains and rivers are still there.
It's spring again in Chang 'an, but after being burned and looted by the rebels, it's already desolate, with deep and dense vegetation everywhere.
Although the flowers in spring are in full bloom, they are not pleasing to the eye, but make people cry, as if the flowers are also crying; Although there are spring birds and songs everywhere, I feel sad because I left my family. Listening to the songs of birds is not only unhappy, but also shocking.
The war has been going on for a long time, and there has been no news from home for a long time. A letter from home can be worth 12 thousand gold.
Because of sadness and worry, the white hair on my head is getting less and less, and I can't even hold the hair clasp.
The old country is dead, leaving mountains and rivers empty. Spring has come, and Chang 'an grass is deep.
Sigh the status quo, can't help crying when I see flowers, hate to leave, and can't help but be afraid when I hear birds singing.
War is raging, and it's late spring in March. Letters from home are precious and worth two thousand gold.
My white hair is getting shorter and shorter in pain, and I can't put it down.
The Hope of Spring (continued) Composition Spring has arrived, willow trees have sprouted and swayed in the breeze; Flowers also grow new branches and green leaves, one after another in bud. I know this is a unique feature of spring, full of hope and infinite strength.
In this season full of hope and strength, my performance is also different from the past. I have more expectations and unlimited strength. Every night, I break the silence at eleven o'clock at night. After lying down, I imagined a bright day and a bright tomorrow.
In the morning, as the sun rose, I jumped out of bed again.
Exercise, (after a week of exercise, the pain on my body is gone), feels as light as a swallow and wants to fly.
After the exercise, I came to the balcony and watched the morning sun burst out, emitting dazzling light, which made me feel the tenacity of life. I can't help shouting: "How great and strong life is!" During the day, my classmates and I compete with each other, help each other, encourage each other and make progress in the school garden.
Never bow your head because of temporary difficulties and setbacks, because I believe that in this spring full of hope and vitality, in this loving campus, we have no reason to give up, we have inexhaustible "energy" and inexhaustible time.
In this vibrant spring, my wish will come true.
According to the content of Hope in Spring, write a short article about Du Fu in my mind. Du fu (7 12~770) was a poet in the Tang dynasty. Originally from Xiangyang (now Hubei), he was born in Gongxian County, Henan Province. Because he lived near Shaoling in the south of the city when he was in Chang 'an, he called himself Shaoling at night. When he was in Chengdu, he was recommended as a diligent staff officer and a member of the calibration department. Later generations called him Du Shaoling and Du Gongbu. His father, Du Xian, served as Sima of Yanzhou and magistrate of Fengtian County. He began to learn poetry at the age of 7, and poetry attracted the attention of Luoyang celebrities at the age of 15. From the age of 20, his life can be divided into four periods. The roaming period was from the 19th year of Xuanzong Kaiyuan (7365,438+0) to the 4th year of Tianbao (745). Du Fu made two long wanderings. The first time was in. Du fu (7 12~770) was a poet in the Tang dynasty. Originally from Xiangyang (now Hubei), he was born in Gongxian County, Henan Province. Because he lived near Shaoling in the south of the city when he was in Chang 'an, he called himself Shaoling at night. In Chengdu, he was recommended as a clerk and a member of the collating department, and later he was called Du Shaoling and Du Gongbu. Life: Du Fu grew up in Confucianism. His father, Du Xian, served as Sima of Yanzhou and magistrate of Fengtian County. He began to learn poetry at the age of 7, and poetry attracted the attention of Luoyang celebrities at the age of 15. From the age of 20, his life can be divided into four periods. The roaming period was from the 19th year of Xuanzong Kaiyuan (7365,438+0) to the 4th year of Tianbao (745). Du Fu made two long wanderings. The first time was in. Rowing in Tunxi River until the foot of Tianmu Mountain. In the 23rd year of Kaiyuan, he returned to Luoyang to take the Jinshi exam, but he was not admitted. The following year, he began to roam Qi and Zhao for the second time. In his later years, he recalled the scene at that time: "Qi, Zhao Zhiye, Qiu, Ma Zhiye." (Zhuang You) During these two wanderings, he saw the beautiful and magnificent mountains and rivers of the motherland, absorbed the cultures of Jiangnan and Shandong, and broadened his horizons. Maybe he married his wife Yang at this time. Tianbao and Li Bai met in Luoyang for three years. They traveled to Qilu, visited Taoism to find friends, talked about poetry and papers, and sometimes talked about current events, and formed a profound friendship. The following autumn, Du Fu will go west to Chang 'an, and Li Bai will revisit Jiangdong. They broke up in Yanzhou and never met again. Du Fu wrote many touching poems in memory of Li Bai. He has been to Jinling, Suzhou and Zhejiang. Rowing in Tunxi River until the foot of Tianmu Mountain. In the 23rd year of Kaiyuan, he returned to Luoyang to take the Jinshi exam, but he was not admitted. The following year, he began to roam Qi and Zhao for the second time. In his later years, he recalled the scene at that time: "Qi, Zhao Zhiye, Qiu, Ma Zhiye." (Zhuang You) During these two wanderings, he saw the beautiful and magnificent mountains and rivers of the motherland, absorbed the cultures of Jiangnan and Shandong, and broadened his horizons. Maybe he married his wife Yang at this time. Tianbao met Li Bai in Luoyang for three years. They traveled around Qilu, visited Taoism to find friends, talked about poetry and papers, and sometimes talked about current affairs, and formed a profound friendship. The following autumn, Du Fu went west to Chang 'an, and Li Bai was ready to revisit Jiangdong. They broke up in Yanzhou and never met again. Du Fu wrote many touching poems in memory of Li Bai.
Du Fu's Spring Hope is about 600 words long. A group of soldiers came up to me, and I remembered that An Lushan's army was not far away at the gate of the enemy.
Our emperor, at this time, made the most famous choice and ran away.
When he left, he was so flustered, so big a palace, dull and flustered.
Too many misfortunes have been pressed into this deep palace compound, as if they had experienced life and death, prosperity and decline in an instant.
Everything was looted, leaving only mountains and rivers.
It is difficult for people to live and work in peace and contentment. Why subvert this hard-won happiness? Looking at this divided and harmonious land, the sun is shining, the spring in the city is thick, the willows spread their graceful arms and sway with the wind, and the peony is still so full and bright, which deserves to be called a rich man among flowers.
It's a pity that they can't take on anything, think about things and worry about people for us. All love can't get rid of the confusion in our hearts. They are so carefree and comfortable.
But when people go to the city, the vegetation is messy.
I reached out and touched the cold stone wall. I leaned against the stone wall and listened, but I heard the ending of clothes and feathers.
"Kill ..." I seem to feel the soldiers roaring in this bloody land, their eyes are red with blood, and their anger is burning in their hearts. One soldier fell and countless soldiers stood up.
Fight, fight again, this eternal action, will it continue forever? I have never seen with my own eyes how an arrow penetrates a person's body. I have never stained my hands with blood, and I have never felt the sense of killing. I don't want to, let alone, play the game of betting on other people's lives. I don't want the joy of victory. I don't want it! Will they be happy with innocent blood on their hands? Will you be awakened by the dead in the middle of the night? Won't they be disgusted with what they have done? The night was shrouded in her tenderness, and the flowers buried their heads. Is it because they saw a mountain of bodies? Flower essence can't bear to cry after reading it, otherwise how can there be tears on the petals in the morning? Sad tears are bitter, and their tears are miserable.
When the sun goes down, tired birds return to their nests. In this silent moment, their cries seem so sad, just to mourn the dead. They will certainly carry those dead souls to the distant sky with their wings.
"Dad, there you are.
"I looked up and saw the bodies and smoke not far away. It was a long road and a point of no return. How many bodies passed by, leaving traces of bones, and no one cried, because they died in a long sleep on the battlefield and got a short peace.
A girl about three years old came into my sight. "Dad, why did you fall asleep? Wake up, mom's here. It's too early. I have to go back to dinner. Mother cooked a lot of food. You haven't been back for so long. Look, mom is crying. Wake up, slacker ... "I turned around and saw the girl's mother. She is already crying, but she doesn't want her daughter to know that the young child will be forever.
"Mom finally choked back crying," mom, lying down, dad is still here, how to get there? I will wait for my father and stop eating.
"The little girl muttered," Go home, dad will be back soon, go home and wait ... "The girl left, her childish face full of incomprehension, and she didn't know what death was. I hope she never knows.
The laughter of the rebels in the distance added a trace of heaviness to the air here.
"Kill, kill!" Killing is to celebrate the glory has not been shattered, but if there is no killing, no war, I think it will be more touching.
Mother and daughter walked away, surrounded by the setting sun, mother gave off a sacred light.
My mother, she must be crying, too. Have you seen my mother, Guinan Goose in the sky? Will you bring me a letter from home full of maternal love and encouragement? Mom, the goose flew away. I received your words.
It's just mom, you're far away. Are you okay? "Let's go, let's go. Why don't you go? " The officers urged me and bowed their heads. My eyes were full of tears. I don't know when it has slipped into my mouth and tasted it. It's bitter.
The dancing footsteps seemed to be shattered, and a low wail was issued. The crash of chains accompanied me to the distance, leaving this war-torn Chang 'an in the distance.
Du Fu rewrote "Spring Hope" into prose. The Watch of Spring rewrote it. The mountains and rivers remain the same, and the land remains the same. It's spring, but Chang 'an is desolate and overgrown with weeds.
The war took away happiness, prosperity and former prosperity.
All that is left is pale and dusty leaves everywhere.
The cold wind crossed the border, rolling up the dust all over the sky, and my eyes were confused. I didn't feel tears. Is the wind and sand in my eyes, or sadness.
Early in the morning, birds are singing and flowers are fragrant, which is a good scene, but the pain in my heart makes my tears shocking.
After March, the war continued and I was homesick.
My heart is burning, but I can't.
Looking forward to receiving letters from family members, even treasures are not comparable.
The pain of national subjugation is heartbroken, and the sadness of leaving home is bald.
Hair is rare, but even silver hair is sparse.
My hair is falling off and I can't get it in.
Spring has come, but the real spring has not yet arrived.
Helpless, helpless, things don't look back; Alas, alas, leave home and die; Look, look, spring will come soon.
...
Tears, feelings and worries The sky is overcast with clouds, and the weather seems to be comparable to frost, throwing gray heavy rain spots at people's heads.
Standing on this bare hill, I saw the scene in front of me-it was so gloomy and cold, as if people felt that there was only endless emptiness above the gray sky.
So, I bowed my head and sighed, but I saw a listless wild flower, bowed my head, bent down, shed tears and sighed.
The soil on one side is as dry as pine bark, but it is still struggling on the edge of the endless valley of death.
Why are you crying? Why fight? Just because the country has been scattered, I feel that I am crying because of current events! I want to block my ears! Because I don't want to hear birds singing with nowhere to run. It was a sad and mysterious sound, like the bell of death ringing, with a sense of rhythm and urgency.
A cool breeze, like a low tune, tore all my emotions. The wind, whether you have heart-rending pain or screaming at the top of your lungs, is gnawing at it and seems to destroy everything I have.
My relatives and friends are far away, thousands of miles away from me. Can they hear the cruel howling of the wind? Have they received my letter from home? Perhaps, the letter from home has drifted to the boundless sky with the smoke of war, or it has been bitten by the ruthless wind and refused to let go.
However, why doesn't it also devour my bitter emotions? So that I can indulge myself in this desolate and sad early February spring.
The maple forest is dyed and the autumn leaves fall.
When can I see my relatives and friends? I'm afraid the mountains will stop us.
Sorrow is like late autumn, and sorrow is like thick hair, which is countless.
Now even the hair is shaved short, and even the hair clasp can't be inserted.
...
Please indicate the source for reprinting. Author and Introduction of Hope in Spring