Poetry or prose about the beauty of the motherland s good hometown

The moon that condenses 3,000 years of culture radiates the season that thousands of people yearn for, the golden autumn, the world-like world, brewing a bumper harvest of wine; The roar of the toast, drawing the splendor of tomorrow, gathering on the round cake, interpreting the happiness of the harvest; Reminiscing about the past: how many literati and writers raise their glasses to invite the moon to sigh at the worries of their family and country, and look at the present: the thoughts of our colleagues are more vast, like drunken and infatuated; We recall:

Reminiscing about the spring rain sown together, recalling the hardships of wearing the stars and the moon, and recalling the united and enterprising high wind; We imagine: imagine the grand cause that is about to burst out, imagine the colorful clouds that you chase me, and imagine the glorious red sun of you and me; Golden Autumn Haoyue: We love you forever.

Homesickness has not changed for sixty years, it is the faint homesickness, how many years of forgetting, is the desire to go home.

Returned, bringing with him the feelings of the wanderer's longing to return home.

I went back, and took away the loess that belonged to the motherland, the nostalgia, from the root in this land, the longing, the thirst for love from the heart, beyond the nation, across the river, love, that piece of loess, a piece of nostalgia.

Some people say that it is a constant stream of thoughts. Confusion of sorrow.

Some people say that it is a constant love, and the expectation is in my heart.

Homesickness is rain, homesickness is sorrow, longing comes from the homeland, and longing comes from homesickness.

Love will understand in the depths that longing is a knife, but no matter how sharp the knife is, it will not cut the nostalgia.

People who leave home are deeply nostalgic, nostalgic for their homeland, nostalgic for their feelings, and all the thoughts come from the inner wanderer's heart, always with the desire for the homeland, with that light.

A song that my mother sang when I was a child.

Accompany me in bathing in tenderness.

I sat at the head of the bed very young with mischievous in her arms.

I see, no.

I think of this song when I grow up.

to be the source of my glory.

Mother's tenderness flowed from her ears again.

It flows to my heart.

Woo. A large river with wide waves.

The wind blows the rice and flowers on both sides.

Familiar melodies are planted in the heart.

How many years have I grown up.

This is where I grew up.

How could I forget.

A song that my mother sang when I was a child.

When I grew up, I remembered this song.

Mother's tenderness flowed gently through my ears again.

He: Naughty me in her arms.

I was young and ignorant.

Familiar melodies are planted in the heart.

The warmth of the song.

When I was a child, I listened to my mother's songs.

I had a firm idea.

To protect my motherland, clench your fists and feel it.

Roam the four seas.

Play this song when you grow up.

I still remember the gentleness I had.

Tumbling through those stories, the details are still the same from the beginning.

It's on my heart again.

Woo. A large river with wide waves.

The wind blows the rice and flowers on both sides.

Familiar melodies are planted in the heart.

How many years have I grown up.

This is where I grew up.

How could I forget.

The girl is like a flower.

How broad-minded the young man is.

Familiar melodies are planted in the heart.

How many years have I grown up.

This is where I grew up, how can I forget.

How could I forget.

How could I forget.

Although the bamboo shoot is tender, it is not afraid of heavy pressure, and dares to struggle and dare to take the lead.

The motherland is good, the hometown is beautiful, the poetry is beautiful, and the morning dawn is eastern.

The rooster of China is announced.

The moon is hidden in the West Sea. Everest.

On the shore of Dongting Lake. Luoxia and Lonely Bird fly together.

On Baiyangdian Lake. The morning sun accompanies the geese and rejoices.

The Yellow River is turbulent.

The Yangtze River is thousands of miles away.

The Qinghai-Tibet Mangyuan is wide.

The strong tide of Qiantang is surging into the clouds.

The compass leads the way.

Gunpowder induces flying dreams.

Papermaking writes the history of mankind.

Movable type printing civilization.

Han Fu Tang poetry has a long history.

Song Ciyuan has a long rhyme.

Chixian Kui is the leader of the four seas.

The champion of Qiankun is more than a thousand years.

Outside thieves and internal thieves plundered Middle-earth.

Fight the jackals one after the other.

Bloody rain for the first century.

Overthrow and bulldoze three mountains.

Red flag exhibition on Tiananmen Square.

The descendants of Yan and Huang stood with their heads held high.

Kyushu Ancient Country New China.

Carry on the past and forge ahead with a smile on your face.

Reform and opening up revitalization road.

Harmony leads to new directions.

The north and south of the river are connected by horns.

The Great Wall sings vigorously inside and outside.

The Three Gorges is embedded with pearls.

Soaring to the sky.

Shenzhou leaps into the sky.

Spread your wings and soar.

Olympic Beijing welcome.

The flame is on the five continents.

Kunpeng swayed the gold medal list.

Win the laurel fang.

Look at the world today.

Huaxia dragon takes off.

View the East of the world.

Spring is bright and auspicious.

Motherland, dear Motherland.

I'll sing for you.

Dreams are beautiful and sweet.

Because of the wandering heart in the dream.

Back to the sky of my hometown.

Tears that fall when you wake up.

Flowing with my sorrows.

Only the crooked moon.

Sprinkled with thoughts all over the ground.

A crystal clear river flows gently in front of Grandpa's house. The trees by the river, the emerald green leaves, also yellowed, full of vitality, reddish-brown on the top. The distant verdant mountains on the other side of the river took my mind to far, far away......

Last fall, my parents took me to my grandfather's house to play. On this day, the sky was so high and so blue. There was a trace of white clouds floating in the blue sky, and the sky was like a wash.

From time to time, flocks of birds circulate. Before we knew it, we had arrived at Grandpa's house. The charming autumn colors of my hometown are displayed in front of you.

In front of my grandfather's house was an orchard, with the dense branches of grapes facing all around, like a green pergola. The trellis was covered with large bunches of grapes. The red is translucent and the green is shiny, like pearl agate, shiny and shiny.

The heavy red apples, bending the branches, nodding to me incessantly in the breeze. The yellow oranges, five in a group, three in a group, head to head, face to face, as if whispering, as if to say: "Little master, welcome back, I thought you had forgotten us!"

I smiled and shook my head. In the orchard, the most mouth-watering thing is the yellow and clear duck pear, which has thin skin, juicy and sweet taste, and tastes sweet and sour.

Next to the orchard is a rice paddy field, and a burst of aroma wafts from a yellow field. The ears of rice are full of grains, and the stalks of Yad's rice can't stand up to the waist, as if thanking the earth for its nurturing grace.

A crystal clear river flows gently in front of Grandpa's house. The trees by the river, the emerald green leaves, also yellowed, full of vitality, reddish-brown on the top. The distant verdant mountains on the other side of the river took my mind to far, far away......

"Guilin Landscape", "Beautiful Little Xing'an Mountains", "Grape Gully in Turpan", "Rich and Beautiful Xisha Islands" and so on.