Five year lesson plan after class two ancient poems 10

The leaves of the trees turned yellow, and they were ruthlessly blown away by the harsh autumn wind. The poet Zhang Ji, who lived in Luoyang City, couldn't help but think of his hometown when he saw this bleak scene. He wanted to write a letter to his family, but when he was about to put pen to paper, his heart was full of sorrow.

Far from my homeland, how many things I want to say and how many things I want to write! How much does he want to talk about living alone for a long time, take this opportunity to write everything he wants to say! The poet thought about it again and again, and finally put pen to paper, telling the story of his parting from his family and his heartfelt words.

The letter was finally written, but the poet's mood could not be calmed for a long time. He carefully sealed the letter and told the sender to make sure that it was delivered to his family in good condition. But when the messenger was about to leave, the poet opened the envelope again and read it carefully several times, lest he miss a word.

The messenger finally hit the road, and Zhang Ji watched him until he disappeared into the sky. Later, Zhang Ji wrote this famous poem that has been passed down through the ages - "Autumn Thoughts".

Zhang was born in a humble background. When he was young, his family was poor, and when he was very young, he was far away from his hometown until he reached twenty.

When he was five or six years old, he had already experienced a life of wandering in prison. Running around all year round, wandering in a foreign land.

On a quiet night, Zhang Ji finished dinner and sat in the small courtyard admiring the bright moonlight, the round moon hanging high in the sky, adding infinite vitality to the dark earth.

He watched and watched, and suddenly a gust of autumn wind blew, Zhang Ji shivered with cold, he had to go back to the house and find an old cotton jacket that his mother sewed for him when he left.

He looked at the padded jacket and remembered his elderly mother, so he took a brush and wrote on the paper: "Mother, how are you doing?" As the weather gets colder, you need to dress extra to avoid catching a cold.

Please don't worry about me, I'm doing well. How is the harvest at home this year? ......It seems that there is a lot to say, but I don't know where to start.

The next day, as soon as the sun climbed the mountainside, Zhang Ji handed the letter to Wang San.

When Wang San was about to say goodbye to him, Zhang Ji took the letter back, opened it and checked it repeatedly, and added: You should live every day happily, don't be unhappy for a little thing......After writing these, Zhang Ji handed the letter to Wang San, who rode his horse and galloped away.

Zhang Ji looked at Wang San who was far away, and his heart was both happy and sad. Happily, my mother can see her letter; Sadly, I don't know when I will be able to return to my hometown.

People are idle and osmanthus falls, and the night is quiet and the spring mountain is empty.

The moonrise startles the bow bird, and the spring stream is singing.

In the silent spring night in the mountain forest, the four seasons of osmanthus fall silently, suddenly a bright moon breaks through the clouds, the soft moonlight sprinkles all over the mountain forest, the mountain birds awakened by the moonlight, chirp in the mountain stream, it looks particularly crisp. The poet uses the sound of falling flowers, moonrise and birdsong, which is very vivid and vivid and meticulous to express the quiet and demure of the moonlit night in the spring mountain.