This poem is one of the four poems written by Yuan Zhen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, and it is also my favorite poem.
Once I tasted the vast sea, I felt that the water in other places was pale; Once you have experienced the clouds in Wushan, you feel that the clouds elsewhere are eclipsed.
Hurried through the flowers, lazy to look back; This reason is partly because of the ascetic monk, and partly because of who you used to be. This was written by Yuan Zhen in memory of his dead wife.
When I first read this poem, I didn't really feel much. At that time, I was only in primary school, and I didn't understand the meaning. Later, I grew up in a poetry appreciation class, and the teacher gave a whole class, and I was fascinated. "People who have experienced the incomparably deep and wide sea will find it difficult to attract him by the water elsewhere; Clouds in other places are hard to see except Wushan, Xia Wei, where the clouds are flourishing. The original poem uses the water and clouds of the sea to compare the depth of love. I have seen the sea and Wushan Mountain, but the water and clouds in other places are hard to see. No woman can make me emotional except the woman that the poet has read and loved. " This is what the teacher told us, and I liked this poem very much at that time. I think this is the best way to describe love. Later generations quoted these two poems, which are more metaphors of loyalty to love, indicating that there is only Iraq, and love is not him. These two poems can also be simplified to the idiom "I have been to the sea", or they can be used to mean that I have experienced a big scene, my eyes are wide and I am well informed, and I don't pay attention to more ordinary things.
I believe that in everyone's heart, there is a person who has been to the sea. Ta is the sea and Wushan you have seen, and no one can replace this person's position from now on. This man used to be with you, singing about wine. However, when I look back, I can't find ta, only "I'm too lazy to look back at flowers, half qualified and half qualified".
What makes me feel is the sentence "I have been in the sea". The ancients' view of love is really the kind of love I pursue. I only love one person in my life, I just want to love one person, just enough to love one person.
I suddenly remembered what Su Shi wrote in memory of his dead wife:
"Ten years of life and death is incredible and unforgettable. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.
At night, I suddenly dreamed of going home, and the window of Xiao Xuan was being decorated. Care for each other without words, only tears thousands of lines are expected to break the heart, and the moon and night are short and loose. "
I still remember what Mr Mu Xin wrote:
In the past, the color of the sun changed slowly.
Cars, horses and mail are all slow.
Just enough to love someone for a lifetime.
These locks used to look good, too.
The key is exquisite fashion.
You'll understand when it's locked.
This is probably true love.
I hope everyone can find their own sea and Wushan.
My favorite sentence is that life is like the first time. I clearly remember the smiles of my new classmates at the beginning of each term. From elementary school to university, we have met many people. At first sight in the dormitory or class, everyone smiled at each other and then began to talk. At that time, the smile was the truest and warmest, full of curiosity and freshness.
Later, when we got along, some students got closer and closer, and some students got farther and farther. Because of personality, temper, dreams and so on. Later, we all came to different crossroads, and we still remember our smiles when we first met. Later, every time I recall it, it is still warmer than quarreling.
Every time I read this ancient poem, I always think of snow-white rice and the hard work of farmers' uncles. Last summer vacation, my father and I returned to our hometown. I harvested rice at my grandmother's house and experienced the hard and happy working life of farmers' uncles.
Every morning at dawn, the adults and children in the village get up. They hurried to the golden rice fields under the sunrise and began to work in a hurry. Suddenly, the "brushing" sound of the sickle cutting the wheat valley, the "buzzing" sound of the pedal stripper, the occasional laughter of adults, the crisp singing of children and the singing of birds converge into a touching symphony. I was intoxicated by the beautiful scenery and music.
Although the cool breeze blows gently, the busy farmers are soon sweating like a pig. They didn't wipe their sweat, but they still worked tirelessly. Children about my age, even younger than me, are picking up ears of rice in the field. I joined them and became their friends.
The sun climbed overhead and roasted the rice fields severely, and everyone was soaked. The adults told the children to go back, but they still insisted on working. A cart of rice from Huang Chengcheng was transported to the threshing floor, and the pole was bent. The voice of "creaking" seems to say, "At noon on the day of weeding, sweat drips down the soil, and every grain of Chinese food is hard"!
Under the scorching sun, the farmer's uncle sweated and hoed the ground, lamenting that food was hard to come by, and indirectly telling people to cherish food.
What I miss most is
Just around the corner.
Revolutionary feelings of blindly eating a handful of melon seeds with them
After working for a few years, I resigned and went back to the school dormitory downstairs, thinking of my college days. People in our dormitory went to work part-time and were taken to a county town. One night, we handed out the leaflets in our hands and bought a pack of melon seeds in the canteen.
We were all tired and didn't talk much. The point is ... we had an argument in the process of handing out leaflets. But we ate all the melon seeds silently.
This feeling, nostalgia.
Actually, this is my signature. This is a poem that belongs to the four of us. Do you agree?
What I like best is how many flowers fall in my dream.
I read an article in middle school about a girl who pursued a boy selflessly for many years and finally failed. I cried for a long time after reading that article, and I can't get it out of my mind. The title of the article is a dream for many years.
Later, I also fell in love with a girl. I can do anything for her as long as she is happy. From high school to college, from college to now, I have never got it, but I feel lost thousands of times!
Since I fell in love with her, my screen name has been called a dream for many years.
I don't know when my dream will wake up and how many flowers will fall in it.
My favorite poem is "Can't you see me?"
I was there "—— From Cangyang Jiacuo's To Look or Not to Look.
Cang Yang Jia CuO wrote 50 or 60 love poems in his life, with beautiful language, which expressed his greatest affection and nature. The famous "That Life": ... In that life, I went from mountain to water to stupa, not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road.
Another example is:
I'm afraid my affection will damage Sanskrit.
I'm afraid I'll miss the whole city when I enter the mountain.
The world is safe,
Live up to the Tathagata.
The leisurely catkins fall silently, which is where the god of the world takes you.
In fact, giving poetry a beauty contest is as tangled as choosing the most beautiful actress today. Poetry, like beauty, is fascinating and has its own merits. If you have to pick one sentence you like best, it is this sentence: silent spring tears, clouds are shy. The silent falling of catkins is the tears of spring, and the shadow cast by clouds is the shy face of the moon.
Although it is too sad, I think the beauty of poetry lies in leaving sadness. On the surface, the poet wrote about nature, but in fact he wrote about feelings. Moving people's feelings into "falling flowers and catkins" and "flowing clouds and flowing water", while "tears" and "shame" show the depth of the poet's parting grief. In other words, the separation of the two has deeply touched nature. These two sentences turn grief into tears, which can be described as an unfathomable artistic realm.
This word comes from Wu Wenying's Huanxisha. Wu Wenying is a famous poet in the Southern Song Dynasty, with more than 300 poems, of which love poems account for a large part, which is as famous as Li Shangyin. Some people have commented that Meng Chuang's words are flowery, dense in images and tortuous in meaning, forming a dense and profound language style. But when there are too many carvings and paintings, sometimes there will be piled up and obscure diseases. This word doesn't have these shortcomings. The whole word is elegant, just like whispers between lovers. It just turns the real scene in the eyes of ordinary people into illusion, turns the nothingness in the hearts of ordinary people into reality, and creates a dreamlike artistic realm through strange artistic imagination and association.
Next, let me enjoy Wu Wenying's "Huanxisha" with you:
The door is separated by flowers, and the dream is old, and the sunset is silent and sad. A faint fragrance wafted, and her delicate fingers gently pulled open the curtains of Mix.
The leisurely catkins fall silently, which is where the god of the world takes you. The east wind at night is colder than in autumn.
Translation:
I always pursue your picturesque smile in my dreams,
In my dream, I came to the yard at that time.
Deep flowers cover the courtyard door.
The sunset is still silent,
The returning swallow seems to be full of sadness.
Your white fingers are slender,
When the fragrance floats again, gently open the small curtain.
Long catkins fall silently,
It was sentimental spring, and we were sad together.
Moonlight is gently covered with clouds,
It is because of shyness that I stopped my sad tears.
The cold spring cold invaded the thin shirt,
It's like being alone in that bleak autumn.
There is nothing to do, flowers bloom and fall, and it seems familiar that Yan returns.
I believe many people, like me, like this ancient classic sentence in Huanxisha written by Yan Shu, a great poet in the Northern Song Dynasty, and can recite it freely:
A new word, a glass of wine,
The weather was bad last year.
When will the sunset come back?
There is nothing to do. Flowers fall,
Deja vu, Yan returns.
Wandering alone in the small garden, fragrant path.
The artistic conception of this word is very melodious and deep. The whole word is very popular and simple, but it gives people a fresh and unique impression and an elegant and implicit feeling. It is really exciting to read, full of emotions, thoughts, treasures and endless aftertaste. I can't help but marvel! This song "Huanxisha" deserves to be a classic famous phrase, and every word is really touching and sympathetic.
Favorite poem:
Once I tasted the vast sea, I felt that the water in other places was pale; Once you have experienced the clouds in Wushan, you feel that the clouds elsewhere are eclipsed.
Last time, I was lazy to review, and I was semi-qualified and semi-qualified.
The meaning of this poem is roughly: I have seen the sea, so I won't be surprised to see ordinary water; I have seen the clouds in Wushan, and ordinary clouds are hard for me to be tempted. Even if I wander among the flowers, I'm too lazy to look back, because I met you in practice.
This poem by Yuan Zhen, a famous poet in the Tang Dynasty, expresses his deep love for his beloved wife and his loyalty to his own love.
One of my favorite words-
"In February, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willows on the embankment are drunk with spring smoke."
Every time I read this poem, I seem to have returned to a spring when I was a child, and the east wind ten miles away, Ziyan murmured.
The whole poem is as follows:
Cunju
"The long grass warbler flies in February,
The willows on the embankment are drunk with spring smoke.
The children came back from school early,
Dongfeng is busy, flying kites. "
This was written by Gao Ding, a poet in Qing Dynasty.
The most beautiful thing is that the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the willow smoke curls up.
In February in the south of the Yangtze River, miscellaneous trees bloom and warblers fly around. The willow is green at the beginning, and the yellow and green are uneven.
When I was a child, my teacher taught us to draw a willow tree, first draw the trunk, then draw a few sparse and drooping lines, and symmetrically place some slender points next to the lines, which are just exposed willow buds.
However, we can't draw the appearance of the breeze, nor can we draw the appearance of the willow blowing on the embankment as green as smoke.
The most beautiful thing in spring is the first warm moment.
I like the hazy and cautious temptation when love is budding.
Wild plum trees are full of buds, dense and in bud.
Peach blossom has already set off a pink cloud, as beautiful as Tang poetry and Song poetry, and like the bride in the Book of Songs, burning its brilliance and burning its brilliance.
Magnolia can't wait, the trees are full of flowers, either as white as snow or as red as chardonnay.
The drizzle is like weeping willow smoke.
The beautiful day was postponed and the white day became longer.
The sun was still high when the children came back from school.
The spring breeze is warm, kites fly in the air, some like birds, some like butterflies, swaying against the blue sky.
The children are chasing in the spring breeze, running on the grass, holding kites in their hands, laughing as they run.
When I was a child, spring came and the weather was fine. I often ride my bike and take my little yellow dog for an outing.
I rode a horse, sang songs, rang the bell with a smile, dropped a string of stinging notes, and the little yellow dog followed happily and ran desperately.
Running, my little yellow dog became rhubarb dog, rhubarb dog became an old yellow dog, and the old yellow dog gradually disappeared, disappearing at the end of his life.
And the little girl who laughed like a wind chime and rode a bicycle grew up gradually, and finally said goodbye to her childhood with tears and grew into a deadpan adult.