What is a historical poem and what does an epic mean?

Poems that record certain historical events are different from narrative poems.

Epic, a genre of ancient folk literature, often refers to ancient long folk narrative poems with legends or major historical events as the theme. The epic mainly praises the struggle and heroic achievements of various ethnic groups in overcoming and experiencing various difficulties and obstacles in the process of formation and development, such as overcoming natural disasters and resisting foreign aggression. In the early stage of the epic, it was generally circulated in oral form among the people, and its content would be added or deleted with the change of time, and then it would be sorted out and processed by a special person in a certain period of time, and it would become a work with a fixed text.

Therefore, the epic is the crystallization of the collective wisdom of the people of a nation, the style is generally solemn and sublime, the expression is simple and natural, and rhetorical techniques such as exaggeration and metaphor are often used, and the image is rich and distinct. Among the foreign epics that have been handed down to this day, the famous ones are the "Homeric Epic" of ancient Greece, the "Mahabharata" and "Ramayana" of India. Because of the profound social significance contained in epics, long-form works of art that more comprehensively reflect the social outlook and people's lives of a historical period are often called epic works.

An imaginary diagram of the Trojan War.

Epic poetry refers to the long narrative works of ancient myths, legends and heroic deeds recorded in the genre of poetry in human childhood, which has a grand structure, full of fantasy and mythology.

Epic poetry refers to narrative works that reflect the historical events and multifaceted lives of the people in which all the people participated in a historical period.

Among Homer's epics, the two greatest are the Iliad and the Odyssey.

Chapter 1: History.

I flipped through my journal.

Pick up the pen and then.

Put all the bad intentions together.

Pour into the pen.

Draw it into a line of text and let it.

From this moment, begin.

Becoming History Chapter 2: Remembering History and Cherishing Peace.

This period of history, which has been inscribed in the artillery fire, is like a long river flowing in the canyon washed by the years, rolling up the little-known heroic deeds, flowing with the heroic pride of bloody battles, and striking the upside-down urgency of internal and external troubles.

This history engraved in the smoke of gunpowder is like a lonely and desolate recorder in the desert of time, crying out for the inseparability of flesh and blood affection, wailing the ruin of the country and the loss of the family, resisting the bullying of the enemy's iron hooves, and advancing the unity of the people who defend the family and the country.

This history that has been reviewed in peace is like a bronze mirror polished by the skillful hands of time, looking at the dusty past, looking at the reality in the confusion, and looking up at the dream future.

History cannot be changed, history cannot be escaped, history can only be remembered, let us cherish that eternal peace.

Chapter 3: History.

Countless minutes, seconds, and seconds.

A flash of eyelids.

How much excitement and sadness were splashed.

Tired of becoming a long day.

Flashes one after the other.

A mighty torrent was formed.

A flood of dreams.

Sometimes a flash.

A powerful swirl is formed.

Spin in the brain.

Sometimes almost neurological epilepsy.

And then slowly.

The sea and the sky have become white clouds and blue sky.

After a long time, I occasionally opened it.

Form a magnificent picture.

You can't help but exclaim.

A flash of streak of countless people.

Countless classics.

Condensed into a sky full of stars, twinkling and twinkling.

It has been a long time to form countless galaxies in an effort to swell and swell.

Rising to the limits of the universe.

Later, people became full of footprints.

Searching for and looking for but never finding the beginning of humanity.

Or even find it.

I also melt into the stars again.

I don't know.

Which space do you belong to?