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It expresses the author's praise for Xiaocao. Although the praise grass is small and insignificant, it asks for less from people and contributes more. praised Xiaocao's self-confidence, self-improvement, and positive spirit.
Bingxin (October 5, 1900, February 28, 1999), female, formerly known as Xie Wanying, Fuzhou City, Fujian Province.
He is a native of Changle District and a member of the China Association for the Promotion of Democracy (DPP). Chinese poet, modern writer, translator, children's literature writer, social activist, essayist. The pen name Bingxin is taken from "a piece of ice heart in the jade pot".
In the "Morning Post" in August 1919, Bingxin published the first essay "Thoughts on the 21st Hearing" and the first ** "Two Families".
Before and after studying abroad in 1923, he began to publish the general title of "Sending Young Readers" one after another
The prose of communication has become the foundation work of Chinese children's literature.
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"Little Grass" is a poem written by the modern poet Bing Xin, which mainly expresses the tenacity and vitality of Xiaocao, as well as the praise and awe of nature.
The poem describes the tenacious growth of the grass in the wind and rain, and the ability to stand up again even if it is trampled, showing the tenacity and indomitable spirit of the grass. At the same time, the poet also expressed his awe and praise for nature through the image of the grass, believing that although the grass is small, it has a strong vitality and will to live, and is an indispensable part of the natural world.
Overall, the poem expresses the poet's awe and praise for nature, as well as his praise for the tenacity and indomitable spirit of life.
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I Am a Little Grass".
I am a small grass, and there are not many brothers in heaven and earth, and there are not many without me.
I'm a little grass.
Although I can't choose to grow my soil, I can still accept rent and demolition here.
The embrace of the sun, the tenderness of the moonlight, the soothing of the breeze, and the moisture of the rain and dew.
It's also affordable.
Winds, torrential rains, thunder and lightning rage.
You can also listen to the true love, joys and sorrows of the world.
To this end, I am active, adaptive, integrated...
I'm a little grass, I don't.
Colorful, graceful appearance.
I didn't. Aromatic and refreshing charm.
Neither will I. Ambition.
I have that too. My dream, higher, stronger...
I'm a little grass, I can't live forever.
I can't escape the limitations of life, but I want to live my life.
Relentless pursuit, pursuit...
My dreams, she is far away, the road is very tortuous, I seem.
Seeing or hearing: she's approaching, approaching...
Even if. If you can't achieve it in a lifetime, you have to believe and be strong.
Even if. The whole life is the process of that struggle.
My heart is still full and beautiful.
I'm a little grass, since.
To share a blue sky and earth with all things, I want.
Confident, brave and confident to live, unyielding in this life.
I'm a little grass and I'm proud of me!
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Bingxin (Xie Wanying, October 5, 1900, February 28, 1999), a native of Changle, Fujian, is a member of the China Association for the Promotion of Democracy, a poet, a modern writer, a translator, and a social activist"Old man of the century"。
In August 1919, Bingxin published the first essays "Thoughts on the 21st Hearing" and the first "Two Families" in the "Morning Post Lu Xiao". In 1923, he successively published a newsletter essay entitled "Sending Young Readers", which became the foundation work of Chinese children's literature. In 1946, she was hired as the first foreign female lecturer at the University of Tokyo in Japan.
At 21:12 on February 28, 1999, he passed away in Beijing at the age of 99.
I'm a little grass under the eaves.
lingering and sending people to hide under the fence.
Inadvertently trampled on.
I'm in pain, I'm struggling.
For the meaning of life.
I want to stay strong.
I'm a little grass under the eaves.
Nature takes care of me.
God sprinkled the rain and dew.
It moistens the roots and tenders the branches and buds.
I try, I hope.
For the fruits of life.
Grief and tears were swallowed together.
I'm a little grass under the eaves.
There is no such thing as a tree.
There are no peaches and plums all over the world.
But I firmly believe that no matter how humble the grass.
Through perseverance and hard work.
It will surely bloom a bright flower of life.
The poem is beautiful, emotional, and poetic.
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