The beautiful sentences about homesickness are as follows:

1. There is a continuous drizzle outside the window; the wind is beating on my window lattice again tonight, and my homesickness is like a soaked seed. Inflated for no reason. The dream that had been wandering for many days vaguely climbed up the winding path in the village.

2. When the geese flying south can no longer be seen in the sky, when the leaves on the sycamore trees turn yellow and green, my unchanging homesickness still plays like this. Just like the distant sound of the flute in my hometown, it is endless; it is also like Li Houzhu's "leaving hatred is like green grass, walking farther and returning to life".

3. The memory of my hometown gradually becomes less clear in my mind because of the gentle breeze of time. In the memory, only my mother's earnest eyes remain. It's just that this kind of longing, deep in my heart, will not be slowly forgotten just because I have been away for a long time. I have never been able to forget, I have never been able to forget. I am a wandering kite. No matter how far or high I fly, that thread, that thread, the tough thread, the warm thread, the thread that maintains my hometown and family ties, is held in my mother's hand. What is inside is held in the hands of my hometown.

4. Hometown, how many nights have I been lying on the bed facing the west, looking up at the night sky, longing for my hometown, thinking that there is a smiling face hidden in every star, which makes people want to see it and feel it.

5. That "Wangxiang Terrace", the Wangxiang Terrace for overseas travelers! Standing on this shore and looking at the other shore, standing on the other side and looking at this side, every place is a hometown that is connected with the heart and affection, and it is a home that cannot be let go!

6. Hold the railing and enjoy the beautiful scenery of the rushing waves of the river below and the green mountains in the distance. However, the familiar image of the two-story building in a foreign country vaguely appeared in front of him. I am reminded of Tang Dynasty poet Liu Zao's Qijue "Traveling to Shuofang": "It has been ten years since I left the guest house in Bingzhou, and I remember Xianyang day and night when I return home. I cross the Sanggan River for no reason, but I look forward to Bingzhou as my hometown." Could it be that I, like Liu Zao, am in In the past ten years, has "Bingzhou" in a foreign country actually become "hometown"?

7. A sudden rain has wetted all my memories. Nostalgia is like a garden full of leeks; when they grow, they are cut; when they are cut, they grow again. Everything about my hometown flashes in my memory. Thoughts are swimming like fish in my lonely soul.

8. I was once immersed in the frustration of life, but the mountains and rivers, the simple people, and the unchanging posture of my hometown were interpreted in poetry and faded into a wordless song. A blank verse.