Seek literary works, poems, and articles about home, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign.

It's nice to have a home.

Lazy afternoon sun, lazy me, lazy lying on the sofa. Everything is so comfortable, casual and uninhibited. I opened a collection of Haruki Murakami's anthologies and accidentally found a description of home:

Home is a big tree. It may not be able to give you a big and sweet fruit, but it will always be able to protect you from the wind and rain.

Home is a harbor. It may not give you a good catch, but it will always keep you out in the storm. Home may be humble, but it will always be the warmest. ”

I suddenly muttered, "It's nice to have a home......”

I remember when I was a child, I loved to play with my parents.

Sit on my father's shoulder and let him take me to the park to play. At that time, I held my father's hand and felt so big and warm. As long as I hold it, I am not afraid of wherever I go, and I often say to my father with envy

When will I have such a big hand as you? "I also love to listen to my mother's stories, lie in my mother's arms, listen to it and fall asleep. At that time, I thought that my mother was so great, I knew so many stories, there was a big bad wolf, there was Little Red Riding Hood, and my mother became a hero of my childhood.

In their spare time, a family of three will sit together, draw some pictures that others can't understand, and sing some songs that others can't understand. But from each other's eyes, we can see that we understand!

Home is my childhood, full of wonderful memories.

As I grew older, my home seemed to be drifting away from me!

Dad can't carry me anymore, and I can grab a basketball anymore. On Saturdays and Sundays, you can go on an outing with friends without your parents. My father's hand was never shaken again.

I love to read Hugo and Hemingway, and my mother has forgotten the "Grimm's Fairy Tales" that my mother read with a strong vernacular. Parents seem to have become old-time people, saying that Coke smells of smoke and that skateboarding is too dangerous. Alas!

My parents came to talk to me, I'm sorry, I have too much homework today, next time! Hey, there's no next time!

Home, I felt insignificant until the day ......

I saw a neighbor's family of three traveling, and the laughter and laughter of children and adults spread all over the way. I suddenly remembered that my home was actually very close to me, and when I encountered a problem, my father looked for information and turned over the question bank, and there would be a complete answering process, and his old smile. When I stayed up late to review, my mother would wait for me and make me a snack, maybe just a bowl of wontons or a boiled egg, but my bloodshot eyes were full of warmth.

Home, everything makes me feel warm again!

Home, may be humble, but it is always the warmest, and it feels good to be at home!

Outside the house, there was a sound of the door opening, and Mom and Dad were back. "I'm back! "Affectionate shout. "Mom! Father! I put down my book, screamed happily, and walked out ......

1.Home is.

What is the home?

Home is a warm cottage in the wind and rain.

Home is a flask on a snowy day.

What is home, home is pots and pans, oil, salt, sauce and vinegar.

Home is a high hall and a red candle.

2.My home. Who will come to the deserted garden!

Dotted with spots, mossy on the path.

The golden wind sent the fallen leaves, floating to the window, like a debt collection.

The out-of-school lady shepherds and geese return, and the hard-working obedient picks wild vegetables.

Under the eaves sits a good wife, a needle for me to mend broken shoes.

The autumn flowers are red and beautiful, and the poor couple mourns everything.

3.My home is the star in the sky.

The streets of the city are brightly lit.

Neon flashes are not my home.

The homes in the community are brightly lit.

Warm and romantic is someone else's home.

The makeshift apartment is brightly lit.

Desertion is still not my home.

My home is the star in the sky.

The street lights are bright as they go home.

But I can only look back.

Look back at the star that came home.

Thinking about relatives finds sad words in the folds of feelings.

Elephant trumpet flowers travel on the mountain.

Blowing sad clouds.

One after another pounced on the top of the opposite mountain, the red bean lowered his face.

Selling among fossils.

There is nowhere to settle from the end of the world.

From that moment on, I tied the stars to my back.

Wearing the stars and the moon is all in the past.

I'm guarding the candlelight tonight.

In Begarth Pro.

Give me that thick country accent.

Like a wanderer, he can't do without his mother.

Home is an oasis of the desert, a long-lost hope for those who have been disappointed;

Home is a dark light that makes the lonely and helpless see the beautiful direction;

Home is an island of the ocean, so that the exhausted find a place to rest, home is the winter sun, bringing warmth in times of disappointment; Home is a sturdy boat that sails to the other shore in times of difficulty; Home is a spring breeze that brings hope in times of cowardice.

Hello, you can go to Poetry China, where there are many poems and essays about this.

Ba Jin's "Home", "Spring", and "Autumn"; Lin Yutang's "Jinghua Smoke Cloud".

This kind of research process and writing method that starts from the appreciation of concrete prose phenomena and prose works to enter theoretical abstraction and induction makes this prose stylistic research work embody a strong readability of combining theory and practice, and shows a kind of operability that integrates theoretical research with art appreciation and literary teaching.

Analogy: Home is an oasis in the desert, making the disillusioned feel the long-lost hope;

Home is a dark light that makes the lonely and helpless see the beautiful direction;

Home is a small island in the ocean, allowing the weary to find a place to rest.

Poetry: Remembering my brother on a moonlit night.

The drums cut off the pedestrians, and the sound of geese in the autumn.

The dew is white from tonight, and the moon is the hometown of Ming.

There are brothers who are scattered, and there is no home to ask about life and death.

The length of the letter was not reached, and the troops were not collected.

The Burrow Ming Mountain is not high, and there are immortals in the name. The water is not deep, and if there is a dragon, it will be spiritual. Si is a burrow, but Wu Dexin.

The moss marks are green, and the grass is green. There is a lot of talk and laughter, and there is no white ding. You can tune the piano and read the Golden Sutra.

There is no silk and bamboo, and there is no case. Nanyang Zhuge Lu, West Shuzi Cloud Pavilion. Confucius Yun:

What's the ugly one? The eternal saying about the family has been burning for three months, and the family letter is worth 10,000 dollars.

Where is the sunset township, and the Yanbo River makes people worried.

Raise your head to look at the bright moon, bow your head and think of your hometown.

Being a stranger in a foreign land, I miss my relatives every festive season.

In front of the window in the coming day, the cold plum blossoms?

Raise your head to look at the bright moon, bow your head and think of your hometown.

The content of the poem "Home":

Home Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi.

In Handan, it is the winter solstice, and the shadow of the knee-hugging lamp is accompanied.

If you want to sit at home late at night, you should also talk about travelers.

1. Translation. In Handan, it is the winter solstice, and the shadow of the knee-hugging lamp is accompanied.

When I lived at the Handan Inn, it was the winter solstice season. At night, I sat in front of the lamp with my knees crossed, and only the shadow kept me company.

If you want to sit at home late at night, you should also talk about travelers.

I believe that my relatives at home will be together until late at night today, and they should still talk about me as a traveler.

2. Appreciation.