Essay fragment 5 on writing about homesickness

The poet Immortal Taibai's "Silent Night Thoughts" is very familiar.

Thinking about the bright moonlight in front of the bed at night, suspecting that it is frost on the ground, raising his head to look at the bright moon, bowing his head and thinking of his hometown.

and Wang Wei's.

September 9 recalls the Shandong brothers.

Tang) Wang Wei.

Alone in a foreign land as a stranger, every festival is full of relatives.

The remote knowledge brothers ascended to the heights, and there was one less person in the dogwood.

Fifteen nights looking at the moon.

Wang Jian's white arboreal crows in the atrium, cold dew and silent wet osmanthus.

Tonight, the moon is bright, and I don't know whose house the autumn thoughts are.

Qiu Si Zhang.

Seeing the autumn breeze in Luoyang City, I want to write a book.

The fear was said in a hurry, and the pedestrians opened it again.

The autumn wind leads Liu Yuxi.

Where is the autumn breeze?

Xiao Xiao sent a flock of geese.

Towards the courtyard tree, the lonely guest is the first to hear.

Sauvignon Blanc Nalan sexuality.

A trip to the mountain, a trip to the water, the body to the side of Yuguan, a thousand tent lights in the middle of the night. The wind is changing, the snow is changing, the dream of the broken hometown cannot be realized, and there is no sound in the old garden.

Tianjingsha Qiusi.

Ma Zhiyuan, withered vines, old trees, faint crows, small bridges and flowing water, ancient roads and west wind thin horses.

The sun is setting, and the heartbroken man is at the end of the world.

People think about it every day. Xue Daoheng has only been in spring for seven days, and he has been away from home for two years.

After the people return to the geese, they think in front of the flowers.

Hometown Outside the window is cotton.

the drizzle of baimian; Tonight the wind is beating again

Looking at my window lattice, my homesick heart is like a soaked seed, swelling up for no reason. After wandering for many days, the dream vaguely climbed the winding path in the village. Who is that, playing that homesick song on a flute on a moonlit night, and the melancholy tune inadvertently fills the wasteland of my heart; Who is reading the ancient poem of homesickness every night, and the sad peace drips with the boundless and quiet nostalgia.

At one point, I thought I was used to living an 8-to-5 life in this strange city.

Moonlight lyrics and songs: Xu Leile.

Arrangement source: Xu Leile, Ge Leming.

BAI Recording: Geng Shiqi Du

Mixing: Ge Leming.

Producers: Zhi Ge Leming, Xu Leile.

Recording Studio: DAO Kaibo**.

Copywriting: Weiwei.

Cover**: The King.

Cover Design: Weiwei.

Photo: Duan Wei.

Acknowledgment: Kaibo Liu.

A child in the eyes of a loving mother.

Alone in a foreign land, he lived.

He returns in a dream.

The road is so far away.

The moonlight shines on the heart.

Homesick but sad.

The road to my hometown is far away.

Mind it in your heart.

Moonlight Moonlight warms my heart.

Moonlight Moonlight illuminates the direction of home.

Christmas flowers are as red as blood.

Thousands of miles away in the city.

The air became gloomy and cold.

In the early morning, my mother's ** called, a few words of advice, old and warm, warm and frozen memories.

The city is bustling and empty, swelling with vain happiness, and I, full of desolation, looking for strange familiarity.

When your hand reached out, the pain and weakness I had endured were revealed.

You say, it's time to go home. Although it is a bustling place, it has never belonged to us.

The local voice curled, tearing down the tears in my eyes.

No one wants to be like a wandering spirit.

Floating in a foreign land.

Let us think about the home of the twilight, more and more barren and decadent, like the old man's sigh and tears.

We are also arrogant and arrogant, and we are unstoppable. But there is always an innate wound in my heart, which hurts when I touch it. The sad thing is that we grow up in the same land under the same blue sky, but that soil has advantages and disadvantages.

There was a period of time when the heart was simple and clear, with a faint blue. There is a period of pure happiness that sustains the tiredness of day after day.

Maybe when we grow up, everything has changed, and if we see more clutches, our hearts will be wrapped into hard as iron. It's just that in the dark, quiet, inch by inch, all that peels off are the corpses that are missed.

The path in front of the door, the bamboo forest behind the house. The rooster crows in the morning, and the peasants return home at sunset. The playmate next door, the boy at the same table.

There is also ignorant and shy love.

There are some things that have passed and left traces, become years, and become memories. Although there is a little pain, dull and dull in the heart, I will occasionally ignore it, but I will never forget it.

There are some emotions, like the simple heart of a teenager, and the thoughts that have been experienced like a catastrophe will reveal a faint blue.

Your sorrow lurks in the mottled shadows of the old house, and all around, the grass is already desolate. The young face reflected by the pond is innocent and happy. And now our hearts have flown too far.

Broke the thread. It hurts every inch.

You say that even if life is evergreen, there will always be a day when the leaves will fall back to their roots.

When I get home.

We're all in this together. There are many holy monks under the tree, and each flower is a Buddha. There is no shadow of time, no sound of water, no stumbling of branches and leaves.

The most classic is the nostalgia in the afterglow.

Everyone has a hometown, and everyone's hometown has a moonlight. Everyone loves the moon in their hometown.

My hometown is in the great plains of the northeastern and western parts of the mountain. When I was young, I had never seen a mountain, and I didn't know what it was. Therefore, I was in my hometown of Mochizuki and never had contact with the mountains.

As Su Dongpo said, "The moon rises above the East Mountain, hovering between bullfights", which is completely unimaginable.

As for water, my hometown village has a lot of it. A few large reed pits occupy more than half of the area of the village. In the eyes of a child like me, although it is not as magnificent as the "August Lake level" of Dongting Lake, it is also quite a bit imposing.

In the summer, after dusk, I lay on the ground in the yard by the pit, counting the stars in the sky. Later, I walked to the edge of the pit and looked up to see a bright moon in the clear sky, overflowing with clear light, reflecting the moon in the water. Although I didn't know what poetry was at the time, I was quite happy, and something was sprouting in my heart.

Sometimes I play by the pit for a long time before I go home to sleep. In a dream, I saw two moons stacked on top of each other, and the clear light became even clearer.

I only stayed in my hometown for six years, and then I left my hometown and wandered the world. In more than 40 years, I have traveled to nearly 30 countries in the world, and I have seen many moons. I have seen the moon on the beautiful Lake Lerman in Switzerland, in the vast desert of Africa, in the blue sea, and on the majestic mountains.

But, when I saw them, I immediately thought of the little moon above the reed pit and in the water in my hometown. In contrast, in any case, I also feel that these big moons of the vast world are in no way comparable to my beloved little moon. No matter how many thousands of miles I left my hometown, my heart flew immediately.

My little moon, I will never forget you!

The Langrun Garden where I live is a Yanyuan resort. There are mountains, water, trees, bamboos, flowers, birds, every time you look at the night, a round is in the air, the moonlight shines on the blue waves, the upper and lower are ethereal, a blue is several acres, and the lotus fragrance is overflowing, the birds are singing, it is really impossible not to say that it is a resort to enjoy the moon. The wonders of the moonlight on the lotus pond are right outside my window.

However, every time I am beautiful on such a beautiful day, I still think of the ordinary little moon in the reed pit in my hometown.

Seeing the moon and feeling homesick has become a frequent experience for me. The disease of homesickness cannot be said to be bitter or happy, among which there are memories, melancholy, nostalgia, and regret. The time never comes. There is sweetness in the slight bitterness.

The moon is my hometown, when will I be able to see the moon of my hometown again! I looked at the southern sky, and my heart flew to my hometown. (Ji Xianlin).

Think for yourself, otherwise what about the exam.

Homesickness is a kind of nostalgia, and homesickness is a kind of gentle feeling, just like the curling smoke on the plain being pulled by the wind to the endless horizon.

Every time I go out to study in a different place, I can't stop the tears in my eyes and say goodbye to my family. Partner, with a heavy bag on his back, stepped back on the road of the long journey. Gradually, the familiar town blurred, and then vanished. I saw a big tree outside the window, its branches pointing to many paths.

And there is only one starting point and only one end, and everyone who leaves their hometown takes away a green leaf, but leaves a root. When the moon is bright, I will think of my parents and the cottage full of memories. My father picked up the dead branches, as if to embellish those broken days, and then handed the warmth to my hands, as if I saw the white dim flame lit by my mother in the kang stove in winter, burning in my heart.

This faint longing is so warm and kind.

It was another moonlit night, I lay quietly in the bedroom, surrounded by countless mountains of books and questions, and I held the diligent oars and struggled in the ocean of knowledge. The wind outside the house was blowing mercilessly, the rainstorm formed a rain curtain outside the window, I huddled in the corner of the bed, I felt countless colds surrounding me, tears overflowed my eyes, I had an indescribable sense of loss, I wanted to hug into the warm arms of my parents, but I couldn't, homesickness was inevitable, I had my own dreams to pursue, I could only put away my feelings.

Outside the window, the rain was still pouring on the ground, and the water curtain was still falling. Nostalgia falls in the book, falls in the heart......

You have to express your true feelings.