Is this lilac? Is this the bitter clove lamented by the poet in Yuxiang? I marvel at my ignorance, and even more at how charming this white flower can be. Indulge in the campus garden with friends and enjoy the scenery of flowers in full bloom.
Begonia, Rosa davurica, Crataegus pinnatifida, Paeonia suffruticosa and Paeonia lactiflora compete for beauty. Only the whiteness and purity of lavender are particularly attractive ... A friend pointed to lilac and said, "Have you smelled her carefully?" I shook my head. I thought that every flower is fragrant, let alone a clove.
Pull out a flap and put it in front of your nose. "It tastes bitter," I said. My friend laughed and said, "Lilacs have bitter fragrance. Can't I afford it?" I am speechless.
Savoring my friend's words carefully, I think of the poem I read, and seem to understand why the poet in Yuxiang wrote the bitterness and beauty of acacia with cloves so touching and intriguing. It also seems to understand a truth: people are happy when they are in pain. We just seek happiness in suffering and turn suffering into happiness, writing and all walks of life.
What did you say?/Sorry? The golden tunnel is next to the dormitory and canteen forever, and it is full of winter jasmine. The yellow Lei Huang is colorful around us: the flowers slanting out of the road are like an extended eaves, under which we all bow when we come and go.
This is really like a golden tunnel. Isn't it? Dormitory is where we study and rest; What about the canteen? The canteen is like an oil return station of life.
How many stories can you tell by walking back and forth six times a day on this road ... If life is a silent struggle, then we must fight against nature, the objective environment and ourselves. When we come here to study, we have to face not only textbooks, but also a series of problems, as well as various tests of family, children, the elderly and our age.
As parents and children, our responsibilities and the role of life make us not only consider our studies, but also other things that we can't care about. Difficult, it seems just a square character that is not easy to write, but how difficult it is, only when you are in it, will you understand.
Unfortunately, quite a few of us are wandering in this golden tunnel. They regard sleeping and eating as the top priority in life, and come and go like walking dead. Is it easy to live like this? All production and life may be carried out in pain.
It should be said that the struggle between man and time is a cruel struggle. Although there is no sword and shadow in this struggle, there is no blood dripping. However, lost time will never be recovered.
Everything that wants to be quiet and comfortable is actually to escape difficulties. Only brave people can face life squarely and face life.
No matter how difficult the future is, as long as we cherish the present, there will be a future. Golden tunnel, the runway in my memory! The tung tree in front of the window is flush with the window. Last autumn, it covered with green leaves to shelter us from the wind and rain, and we felt its friendship very much.
No wonder, in the cold of winter, I stood at the window on the fourth floor, worried that snow would crush its branches. However, after several snows, it still stands high in front of our window. When spring comes, its branches change from gray to purple.
One day, I actually found snow-clear buds on its branches. In a few days, they suddenly bloomed and formed lavender clouds. Tung flowers are so chic, and there are strings of flowers on the bare branches, which are exquisite and elegant.
Standing at the window and looking at the beauty of the flowers scattered on the branches is really like reading a poem, which is full of interest. Probably only tung trees bloom first and then grow leaves. Plums don't shed their leaves, and figs don't bloom. Tung oil tree is unique in that it blooms first and leaves are exposed from its branches after flowering.
We often say: "Red flowers with green leaves", the beauty of tung flowers does not need any embellishment. Just like a noble personality, pure, simple and different.
Tung flower is not only elegant, but also has a pioneering spirit without hesitation. Its spirit comes from the strong trunk of the tung tree and its stalwart body.
Tung tree, the tung tree in front of my window. Willow on the wall There is a curved willow on the high wall, swaying in the wind, which worries me for a long time.
Every time I walk through this wall, I feel that my life is oppressed by willows and walls. I wonder how willows grow here. A closer look reveals its secret. It turned out that a short rain trough stretched out from the root of the willow tree. Over the years, the sink has rotted and broken, and the rain has flowed down, just passing through the roots of willow trees.
Because of the wall and water, this willow tree grows day by day. Looking at this willow tree, I suddenly understood that everything has its cause and its fruit. The existence of this willow tree is a miracle, and it also contains some truth.
But I am convinced that this willow will not grow into a big tree after all. Although it can flow so smartly in the wall, how much can it endure? 2 Campus Poetry So, I thought of an aesthetic problem, pure art, its vitality will not last long, and art for art's sake can only enter a dead end. Only when art is rooted in the earth and fertile soil can there be lush scenery. It is raining cats and dogs. Walking in the rain must be poetic, right? However, we live very tired, and we don't always have leisure and elegance. We walk in the garden in the rain, even if we don't care about our own state of mind, don't we consider other people's eyes? It's raining on campus today, but we must go for a walk. Although the rain is fierce and the raindrops are urgent, the green trees washed by the rain are so green that they are really worth appreciating.
There is no umbrella, no rain gear, my hair is wet, my thin shirt is soaked, and the footsteps of walking aggravate the urgency of the rain. The raindrops jumping on the lawn are constantly changing, and the fresh veins make people feel that the world is really happy.
The rain kept falling, and many beads of rain were strung on the branches, and the buds fell one after another. Unfortunately. The first rain of this new year washed away the residual dust of a winter and knocked down countless budding new cuisines.
Without this rain, many new buds will grow, but without this rain, no new buds will grow. This is the law of nature. It seems a bit wrong to comment on rain utilitarianism.
How can everything be perfect? No matter how good things are, no one will achieve the final satisfaction. Wishful thinking sometimes inevitably hurts each other.
2. Poetry describing the campus "Campus Scenery" Author: Mountains and rivers near the campus. My steps are like fallen leaves. A green head is moistened and dyed with the juice of the sun, and the nursing earth looks for some clear lines, distant light and flowers. At this time, we are relatively silent, but we are still happy in our own way. You take a bite in the simplest way. Nurturing my growing childhood, I lifted you above my head with my eyes and crossed the river that kept changing roads at the head of the village, but I never lost your ripples. I still feel my warm and warm desks and chairs, and those old friends are still unfamiliar and familiar, and they are still childhood nicknames of those simple desks and chairs. Some earthy nicknames ran wildly on the desktop, and the flowers opened and cried. Love has grown up. A blackboard that hangs silently and points to the pointer. Some familiar voices came from my ears. Words with vague and clear directions return to the original. They are anchored in the depths of details and become scars of life that cannot be erased in time. Our time is a bullet wound that has experienced wind and rain, hurting our thin years into a deep imprint. We can't forget it, and we dare not forget it in memory. Tap the baptism of steel tempering, and the words will turn into the spirit of bathing fire, soothing our whole injured land. Half a piece of rubber eye touched the dead bird and climbed the old windowsill and the silent desk and chair. A leaf falls to announce that it has completed its return. A group of butterflies redeems themselves before the season changes. A small eraser can polish and decorate life. Beautiful as yesterday's wedding dress, the grass heart has grown to the middle of the waist, and some flowers have also polished the sun. Under the guidance of the wind, we are doing familiar broadcast gymnastics. Our posture is elegant and beautiful. A hen gathered a flock of chickens on the grassland, tirelessly calling for a language we didn't understand. The lens of time is also shifting and sometimes focusing, and the thinking of flowers is sometimes elongated. In the world, your posture is still lush and beautiful, and the leaves are sitting devoutly on my poems. Every time I read, my temperament is like a flower. Yes, even a piece of glass thousands of miles away can't stop the sun. Please open this window, don't be afraid of the wind and rain, including a little sadness. As long as you have a heart full of sunshine, you can laugh too much. Just smile and the sunshine will wash your face. Fly in the campus. Bright, you and I reached out our fingers at the same time, and a naughty touch released one dream after another. Most importantly, the bright lights in front of teachers' midnight windows are like sleeping poems, and they never try to read them attentively. They always throw away their youth like glass beads and look back at the lawn of youth. Naughty fluorescent lamps are everywhere, which makes our dreams more sad. It was that young time that only allowed us to dream in a hazy pattern, which ushered in the sunshine from the fragrant campus. I gently waved to you at the school gate, and my youth began to sail separately. I looked at your back, and that poem was scattered on your way home. The most beautiful thing is that you smiled and looked back at your long hair in the corner, flying like wicker, and waved your hand for the last time to write a poem without an ending sentence. You and I never looked back! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! If there are many flowers outside the star, it is the original aphorism. Pomegranate tree, looking for the bud of image, shows a flaming smile, a budding spirit, like a pair of expectant eyes. The messy and dusty manuscript paper on my desk is like an orphan girl in the Song Dynasty. I need a geranium bird to guide or wake up the shy cloud full of girls in the sky, which is bright all around. I vaguely heard the sound of the horn of endeavour 2. Corner: Green Campus: The wings pursued by the green campus thought, the golden garden with endless truth, and the morning dew-like Haruka, with the light of dawn flying in the hearts of boys and girls.
The window open to the sun was covered with blue-purple curtains, which connected his eyes. The boy, with sad eyes, is by the window.
In doubt, I opened the curtain and looked out of the window. However, the days are too short to bear the sadness of the whole day.
He also tried to forget and stare, only occasionally when his heart was cold, he opened the window and basked in the warm sunshine. ﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍65
3. Campus Life Four Seasons Lyric Prose Poetry Garden (Prose Poetry) 1 With the wishes of friends and family, with new expectations, we bid farewell to the warm harbor of our home and entered the warm and cold campus.
All the flowers here bloom once a year, year after year. A year's plan starts with spring.
This is a sowing season, and Xue Hai in Shushan is the land where students work hard. This is a beautiful season, and young girls are scrambling to put on gorgeous clothes before spring.
The beauty and vitality of their youth swayed under the campus sky, driving away the last chill in the chilly spring! This is also an affectionate season, and the campus is full of spring and vitality. In this season, the hearts of boys and girls are like a green grass, which inadvertently turns the whole sky green! Sophora japonica blooms, and summer is here.
For every member of the campus, the pure and warm Sophora japonica never stingy with her moving beauty. Summer campus, cool and quiet, is a pure land away from glitz and noise.
Here, there is only the sound of reading, and there is no free and fresh breath of impurities. Of course, there are cicadas, orioles, wild roses and Chinese rose.
This is a rare holy land and seclusion in downtown; But the restless thirst for knowledge is stronger than the rich fragrance of Sophora japonica! This season, it is always easy to remind people of many past events, and many details in the past events are always related to Sophora japonica on campus. Some people say that the strings of Sophora japonica are wind chimes left by lovers, which opens our pure first love and affectionate youth.
Perhaps, the meaning of Sophora japonica does not stop there. It may take us a lifetime to understand one thing! This season, people always feel contradictory.
Some people say that this is the harvest season, and freshmen are stepping into the long-cherished university hall to reap the success and joy of hard work in the exam; Some people say that this is the season of parting, because at this time of year, a group of young students bid farewell to their dear teachers and friends one by one, leave school and open up another brand-new and unfamiliar world. Therefore, in this season, many people are always deliberately avoiding those sad poems of Tang and Song Dynasties, always drinking injured beer but pretending to be heroic.
In fact, this season is the most colorful and the closest to the reality of life. Because this season, we flinched and struggled; There is gathering and dispersion; There are forgetfulness and unforgettable memories.
This is our college life, affectionate, mysterious, beautiful and pure! The campus in winter always makes people feel respected. Ten years of cold window, ten years of grinding a sword.
This is a test that every aspiring young man must pass. Real heroes often use their enthusiasm to penetrate the biting cold! The wise man said: a real cold window breeds real hope.
For heroic and withered young students, the wind and snow all over the sky are just youthful and chic poems; How can we freeze the endless thoughts and colorful dreams of youth in the nine days of freezing cold? What's more, the parcel mailed at home also carries the deep thoughts of parents and family, the encouragement and care of teachers and friends, and is the hot coal sent in time in the cold winter at the end of the year, burning with the warmth that you will never forget! Therefore, even if it is snowy and winter comes, I still like to walk around the campus, watch some snowflakes and write some warm and holy poems.
4. Praise the poetry of the campus. Praise the school poem. I hang your name on my chest every day. I can feel your great love. You will always be my forest. I am a small seed. My thoughts germinate under your care. Every time I look up at you, your shoulders are like a wooden house with blue sky and white clouds. I once imagined that we could stand together forever. All beautiful mornings and nights wake up silently at your feet and fall asleep again, until today I grow into a moving tree. Wen, the love you gave me, just like you, will stand in a corner of life at will and form a shady campus. The golden campus is full of people, and our young hearts are full of infinite expectations. We vent our fiery feelings and radiate the colorful green campus of life. Those ignorant teenagers are showing off the glory of life and enjoying the infinite fiery campus of knowledge. Those young faces are full of knowledge and look forward to the new school year. The campus of the four seasons is becoming more and more colorful year by year. In a blink of an eye, we grew up and left the reference materials silently:
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5. Lyric Prose Poetry Garden of Campus Life Four Seasons (Prose Poetry) 1 With the wishes of relatives and friends, with new expectations, we bid farewell to the warm harbor of our home and entered the warm and cold campus.
All the flowers here bloom once a year, year after year. A year's plan starts with spring.
This is a sowing season, and Xue Hai in Shushan is the land where students work hard. This is a beautiful season, and young girls are scrambling to put on gorgeous clothes before spring.
The beauty and vitality of their youth swayed under the campus sky, driving away the last chill in the chilly spring! This is also an affectionate season, and the campus is full of spring and vitality. In this season, the hearts of boys and girls are like a green grass, which inadvertently turns the whole sky green! Sophora japonica blooms, and summer is here.
For every member of the campus, the pure and warm Sophora japonica never stingy with her moving beauty. Summer campus, cool and quiet, is a pure land away from glitz and noise.
Here, there is only the sound of reading, and there is no free and fresh breath of impurities. Of course, there are cicadas, orioles, wild roses and Chinese rose.
This is a rare holy land and seclusion in downtown; But the restless thirst for knowledge is stronger than the rich fragrance of Sophora japonica! This season, it is always easy to remind people of many past events, and many details in the past events are always related to Sophora japonica on campus. Some people say that the strings of Sophora japonica are wind chimes left by lovers, which opens our pure first love and affectionate youth.
Perhaps, the meaning of Sophora japonica does not stop there. It may take us a lifetime to understand one thing! This season, people always feel contradictory.
Some people say that this is the harvest season, and freshmen are stepping into the long-cherished university hall to reap the success and joy of hard work in the exam; Some people say that this is the season of parting, because at this time of year, a group of young students bid farewell to their dear teachers and friends one by one, leave school and open up another brand-new and unfamiliar world. Therefore, in this season, many people are always deliberately avoiding those sad poems of Tang and Song Dynasties, always drinking injured beer but pretending to be heroic.
In fact, this season is the most colorful and the closest to the reality of life. Because this season, we flinched and struggled; There is gathering and dispersion; There are forgetfulness and unforgettable memories.
This is our college life, affectionate, mysterious, beautiful and pure! The campus in winter always makes people feel respected. Ten years of cold window, ten years of grinding a sword.
This is a test that every aspiring young man must pass. Real heroes often use their enthusiasm to penetrate the biting cold! The wise man said: a real cold window breeds real hope.
For heroic and withered young students, the wind and snow all over the sky are just youthful and chic poems; How can we freeze the endless thoughts and colorful dreams of youth in the nine days of freezing cold? What's more, the parcel mailed at home also carries the deep thoughts of parents and family, the encouragement and care of teachers and friends, and is the hot coal sent in time in the cold winter at the end of the year, burning with the warmth that you will never forget! Therefore, even if it is snowy and winter comes, I still like to walk around the campus, watch some snowflakes and write some warm and holy poems.
6. Write a prose poem about campus life. The restless fields are filled with wild breath, and the golden dead leaves are flying in the sky.
The lingering shadow of childhood can't hold a moving body, and the sunset at Yamaguchi has become fiery red. We played under the catkins and rubbed the delicate stamens in our hands.
We sing on the river and write poems to express our excitement. I really want to turn myself into a fairy tale and have a sword to cut off my sadness.
The confusion of adults burned our eyes, and the ignorant romance ignited our hearts. Put on your personality vertically, and cut your hair to color your hands and face.
Let idols stick all over the room, also called the declaration of stars flowing in your heart. However, the school has stumbled; However, parents are blocking; We are so busy that we always want to change secretly.
I don't care that the flying silk of the spring rain wets my skirt, and I don't care that the spittle of blame overflows my face. When we bite our youth with false teeth, we secretly hum love songs.
7. campus prose poetry /more22.asp? funo 1=22
There are many campus essays in it.
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There are many prose poems in it!
Campus prose poetry
Pink pen
Children in the mountains are innocent and pure. Thousands of filters crystallize into a gentle spirit. No matter where it floats, it can't change the nature of the rock.
Slender and strong, not curved. Grind yourself down bit by bit, and let those thirsty souls and tired thoughts rejuvenate.
White is often accompanied by black. Without a blackboard, how can it have fine functions? How can you write freely without the blackboard? We must work together in everything, but can a successful person go it alone? Modesty and justice. Every stroke and painting objectively shows the writer's mental journey. The ambition of a loyal minister and a good general, even if imprisoned in the darkness of the prison, will eventually shine with the sun and the moon and warm the world for thousands of years. The false letters of traitors and thieves, even if they hang high in the sky, can only be cloudy for a while and will eventually disappear into the world.
Away from the mountains, the texture remains the same. No matter where you write it, no matter who writes it, every stroke runs through the writer's heart and soul. Seriously, go calm down. Into dust, fluttering, without a trace.
blackboard
Black is pure, black is warm. The clear spring moistens the tenderness of all beings and wipes the chaotic soul.
Black and clear, black and clear. Just like a cheerful stream, it always writes its feelings on its face. Black is really not beautiful, but it is never unreasonable to admire white. If white is dazzling and you can't figure out the depth of talent, it's not as reassuring as black.
Absorb dust without regrets, turn spring breeze into rain, and moisten things silently. When the black paint on his face faded, his fiery and pious heart calmed down.
Black is a pure reflection of the soul. Black is the identification code of nature.
Not ashamed of ugliness, but proud of black. What is purer than your black? What's darker than your black?
Speech platform
It's only three feet, but you must never underestimate it. Although not as talented as Yan Zhaowang and Huang Jintai, the evaluation and grading of the actors in front of the stage are accurate.
Bow your head in front of people who are willing to turn themselves into a wisp of white smoke, and that is the ladder. You can reach the moon, and Yun Fan will help the ocean.
Look down on your bones: if you are a monk for a day, you will talk about it in Kan Kan, like withered seeds scattered in fertile fields, making autumn cry.
Worship preachers who learn to pour out their feelings and give lectures; I have great respect for those who are willing to work hard for Ganniu. The food of knowledge gradually enriches the malnourished body, and the essence of wisdom is orderly, enlightening the ignorant mind. There is a tacit understanding on stage and off stage.
The three-foot platform is too short, but I look up and listen, and I never slack off. Weigh the weight, be objective and fair. Boiled and boiled, completely different. Don't you see-the pious man is plucking hair from the corner of the table, and the blasphemer falls off the table.
8. Praise campus poetry or prose 1. Praise you, campus.
Praise you, campus! You are a red sun; You are a hopeful ship; You are the temple of knowledge; You are the cradle of college students.
You are the hope of the villagers. Under your training, students' beautiful ideals can be realized and their sweet dreams can be rounded.
You are fertile land, and young plants grow into trees; You are a brush like a rafter, and your pictures are praised!
From several houses to high-rise buildings; From abacus calculation to computer operation; From studying hard under oil lamps to being accompanied by fluorescent lamps. You have experienced a lot of ups and downs, but you have become more mature and stable. You are slim and graceful, just like a beautiful girl, which is enviable.
You have the warmth of spring, the brilliance of summer and the maturity of autumn, but not the cold of winter. You opened the door of Tsinghua campus, and the Weiming Lake of Peking University obeyed your call. Great, campus, you have a great responsibility! You should push the wheel of history and climb the peak of science!
How beautiful the future is and how brilliant tomorrow is! Let Lang Lang's reading sound resound through the sky! The advancing campus will live up to expectations, just like a bright pearl!
2. Ah, campus
When I was a child, on campus.
Hanging in the high blue sky
See her, hear her
just as
Embrace the stars all over the sky, all the stars
something i need
Admission, campus
Squeeze into my heavy schoolbag
Love and hate her.
just as
Following a long stream makes me happy.
It confuses me.
Graduation, campus
It grows on a lush tree.
Taste her.
just as
Farewell to first love, even let me
Feel depressed/depressed
Now, the campus is finally
Paste it into my wonderful life picture.
No matter how close to her, no matter how far away from her.
It's like
Hold high the sail of mature love, towards that
The fiery red sun is flying.
9. Sunshine campus prose poetry, the much-needed dream is a magical river, which makes the waves of time go back.
Occasionally you will rush back to the past, in a dream.
Childhood in books, in laughter, in sky blue and light green lyric songs, the life of teenagers is indeed a dream world.
Ring the bell. Chaoyang. Go to school. Campus. By the window. Wild flowers. Stream. Fangcaodi New Year card. Pure and clear friendship. Beautiful and clear mind.
Memories flashed before my eyes. At that time, when we talked about life, there was no lack of simple philosophy in innocence. We admire heroes through the ages and those charming poets.
At that time, we walked out of the swords and shadows of martial arts novels, into Tang poetry and Song poetry, and into the poetry garden, immersed in the colorful fog of mathematics and physics.
At that time, we hoped that the sun on the horizon would be at eight or nine o'clock in the morning. The cock crow is magnificent, and the early spring is full of vitality.
At that time, the teacher said that we were birds, and we should fly to our own sky with full ideals and smart wings.
At that time, we said that life is the sea, hope is the beacon, and will is the rudder, so we won't lose our way in the stormy waves.
Now, we are out of the school, with the conviction of the year, with the friendship and blessings of our classmates.
Teachers are like a big tree standing in front of the school, giving us green spring and sending us on a journey.
Although, we like to pack up our poetic and romantic bags, play the guitar, and sing while walking, as if wandering freely on the coastline of the world, singing the long years into a song, writing the notes of spring flowers and autumn moon brightly and shining into the diary of youth.
But our steps will be vigorous and solid, moving towards today's reality and the fantasy of that year.
Picking a petal from memory is full of fragrant emotions, and we will never forget a string of flashing "that time" on campus, which will always be the initial scenery on our life road and a warm post station in our hearts.