China's famous prose

Excerpts from sentences and paragraphs in Bing Xin's beautiful prose

1. In my opinion, winter is the least romantic season, especially in the south. It can't see the snow and ice in the north. There is no Wan Li desert in the west, and there is no sound at all. Winter in the south is always just a depressed color. It was cold, but it didn't bring a trace of moisture. The cold of bone marrow seems to have taken away all the warmth of the body, leaving only a loose and cold mass between the chest and lungs.

In this season, people's thoughts will be frozen, and even emotions and romance will be forgotten in an instant. Under such circumstances, it is difficult to put forward a good interest, even if there is an occasional wish, it will soon be thrown into the corner of memory.

2. Standing outdoors, take a breath gently, and a mass of white fog is wrapped in a warm curl and lifted off, stretching out in mid-air, dense and merged into the long-lost dry cold air. The hope that had just been ignited was shattered, quietly and quietly disappeared, as if it had never happened, and it was particularly wet in a trance.

The young tree grew into a big tree and became an old tree in winter. The branches of the old tree are staggered, and only a few scattered leaves are dotted with traces of life. The bark is slightly brown, as if it had been baked on the fire for a long time, and it has lost its spirit, half curled up, as if it would fall to the ground at any time.

At this time, the summer leaves in the lotus pond are only withered stems and leaves. I've long lost that bejeweled charm. The cold wind shakes the dead leaves, as if quietly telling the beauty of the past, and as if quietly crying for today's decline. If there is another cold rain, it will make the flowers fall even worse. This is Li Yishan's mood of staying in the rain.

The mountains in the south are never so tall and majestic as those in the north. In winter, they have lost the charm of the past, leaving a slightly gray figure standing quietly between heaven and earth, silently guarding the silence. If there is a heavy snow in the north and the mountains are covered with an endless layer of white, it will be a magnificent picture and there will be new hope among the mountains.

Unfortunately, there is no snow in the south, like scattered hills on the vast Jianghan Plain. Only the green shadows of pine and cypress are left in the mountains, but they are as green as a layer of frost, with a faint gray in the light green. From a distance, it seems to be covered by flying dust.

5, the distant mountains are continuous, not in the morning fog, so light that I don't think about anything. There is only one light blue mountain peak across the sky. Smoke from people's kitchens in the canyon comes out pound by pound in the valley, just like Yun Qi. The morning sun shines brightly on the endless clean and green fields. After washing and dressing, I stood by the window for half an hour. In this solemn and great environment, I can only silently bow my head and praise the creator of omnipotent wisdom.

6. The scenery outside the window, immersed in my tired heart, makes me carefree and intoxicated. Sometimes I will see the river and sail for a while. Under the dawn, it is very clear and beautiful. I used to like the scenery in the north, so I had to fall in love with the elegance and gentleness of Jiangnan. Tonight the night is as cold as water, and there is only myself under the lamp. It's raining in Mao Mao outside the window. As of this writing, I can't hold back.

A cool breeze blew gently and the ship was sailing on the ice. After crossing the Korean border, the sea is like a lake. Blue is extremely green, condensed into one. The golden light of the setting sun, like a long snake, goes straight from the horizon to where others are standing. From the sky to the water in front of the ship, from light red to dark green, it becomes dozens of colors and overflows layer by layer. Children, I hate that I can't draw. Words are actually the most useless things in the world, so I can't write such an ethereal and wonderful scene!

7. I'm leaving-leaving my parents, brothers and all my dear people. Although the time is short, I am already very sad.

If you can think of a warm and loyal friend overseas in Wan Li, in windy morning and rainy evening, in annoying and sad weather, at his father's mother's knees, in his sister's lines, you can't enjoy such rich blessings alone, and your innocent pity glance gives me great happiness and comfort from the spirit of the universe!

? Write mother's famous prose.

1, paper boat-send mom

Author/Bing Xin

Bing Xin (1900- 1999) is a famous modern poet, writer and translator in China. He is the author of a collection of poems "Stars in Spring Water", a collection of essays "For Little Readers" and "Little Orange Lantern".

I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper.

Save it forever.-Save it,

Folding into a very small boat,

Throw it into the sea from the boat.

Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,

Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.

I still fold every day and never give up.

I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go.

Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,

Don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason.

This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.

Wanshui Qian Shan, please let it go home with her love and sorrow!

Written in 1923

2. Oh, Mom

Author/Shu Ting

Shu Ting (born in 1952) is a famous contemporary poet in China, and a representative poet of the misty school. He is the author of a collection of poems, Double Mast Boat, Singing Iris, and a collection of essays, Heart Smoke, etc.

Ah, mom.

Your pale fingertips touch my temple,

I can't help acting like a child.

Hold on to your skirt.

Ah, mom.

In order to keep your fading figure

Although the morning light has cut the dream into smoke.

I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.

I still cherish that bright red scarf.

Afraid that cleaning will make it

Lose your unique warmth

Ah, mom.