Zhu Ziqing s main content in winter, who is the author of Zhu Ziqing s Winter ?

The article gets straight to the point, pointing out the title "winter", and first describes the scene of the father and son sitting around the "foreign stove" and eating boiled tofu. The "foreign stove" erected high, the "small foreign pot" smoked black, and the "tender and smooth" and "hot" tofu are presented in front of the reader, highlighting the cold of winter and the warmth of father's love. In the second paragraph, the writer and his two friends boated on the West Lake on a moonlit night, the bright moonlight, the "soft water waves", the faint mountain shadow, and the shallow smile, all of this, although more than ten years have passed, only because of the preciousness of friendship, the author still remembers it vividly.

In the third paragraph, the innocent smile of his wife and children in the lonely mountain city is written, the author has been adrift all his life and has no fixed place, but even if he lives in a foreign country, lives in a lonely mountain town, has the innocent smile of his wife and children, and the winter is "always spring", and loneliness only belongs to the empty mountain town outside the house, not to the affectionate home inside the house. Finally, he summarized the whole text and pointed out that even in winter, "my heart is always warm when I think of this." The whole text is like a silent movie, simple and natural, and each close-up shot reveals deep thoughts and feelings - family, friendship and love.

In this "Winter", the author extracts three fragments of life: the father sandwiches tofu for his children, boats on the West Lake with friends on a winter night, and the family spends the winter in Taizhou. not only wrote about the father's love that he used to write, but also extended it to friendship and affection.

It not only reveals the beauty of family affection, but also shows the longevity of friendship.

Winter is an essay written by Zhu Ziqing. In this essay, the author describes three scenes: a father sandwiching tofu for his child, boating on the West Lake with friends on a winter night, and a family spending the winter in Taizhou.

They are all simple outlines in the style of white drawings, with a few brushstrokes, and the meaning is all out, just like three faint ink paintings, without heavy ink and color, but exuding a light fragrance and refreshing people's hearts. So that the author's heart is also warm in winter.

"Winter" is a lyrical prose of Shuhuai, and it is the lyrical of Zhu Ziqing's nostalgia for his family and friends.

Chinese name. Winter.

Foreign name. winter

Category. Prose.

Author. Zhu Ziqing.

Excerpt from. Zhu Ziqing's famous family lead appreciation".

Original text of the work. Speaking of winter, I suddenly think of tofu. It is a "small foreign pot" (aluminum pot) boiled tofu, which is hot.

The water is rolling, like a lot of fish eyes, and small pieces of tofu are raised in it, tender and smooth, like a white fox coat worn backwards. The pot is on the "foreign stove" (kerosene stove without gas), and the stove is smoked to black and black, and the whiteness of the tofu is revealed. It was night, and the house was old, and although it was lit with "foreign lights", it was still dark.

Sitting around the table were my father and my brother. The "stove" was so high that my father had to stand up often, tilt his face slightly, look at his eyes, reach into his chopsticks from the hot air, pick up the tofu, and put them in our soy sauce dish one by one. We sometimes do it ourselves, but the stove is so high that we can always sit back and enjoy it.

It's not about eating, it's just playing. My father said that it was cold at night, so everyone warmed up after eating. We all love this white water tofu; As soon as it was served, he stared at the pot, waiting for the heat, waiting for the tofu that fell from his father's chopsticks in the heat.

It's winter again, I remember that it was the night of November 16 of the lunar calendar, and I sat on a small paddle in the West Lake with Mr. S and Mr. P. Mr. S had just arrived in Hangzhou to teach, and he wrote in advance: "We want to visit the West Lake, no matter if it's winter."

The moonlight was so beautiful that night, it still seemed to shine on my body when I thought about it. Originally, the night before was "the head of the month"; Maybe there's something special about the November moon. It was past nine o'clock, and it seemed to be just us paddling on the lake.

A little windy, and the moonlight shone on the soft water waves; At that moment, it was reflective, like freshly cut silver. Only a faint shadow remained of the mountains on the lake. There is an occasional star or two of lights at the bottom of the mountain.

S Junkou accounted for two lines of poetry: "Count the stars and lights to recognize the fishing village, and Zhao holds the light ink and lightly depicts the distant marks." "We didn't talk much, just the sound of even oars.

Gradually, I fell asleep. Mr. P "fed" for a while, and then raised the tape measure to lift his eyelids and saw him smiling. The boatman asked if he wanted to go to the temple; It's Amitabha's birthday, and it's quite lively over there.

When I arrived at the temple, the lights and candles in the hall were brilliant, and it was full of the sound of the Buddha chanting the Buddha, as if I had woken up from a dream. This was more than ten years ago, and Mr. S still often communicates with letters, and Mr. P heard that he has changed several times and collected special taxes in a special tax bureau, and there has been no news since then.