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Prose Poem Describing Spring
Spring Zhu Ziqing

Looking forward, looking forward, the east wind came, the footsteps of spring are close.

Everything looks as if it has just woken up and opened its eyes gladly. The mountains are moist, the water is rising, and the sun's face is red.

The grass peeked out of the ground, tender and green. The garden, the field, look, a large area full of. The first thing you need to do is to sit down, lie down, play a couple of rolls, kick a couple of balls, race a couple of times, and play a couple of times of hide-and-seek. The wind is light and the grass is soft.

Peach trees, apricot trees, pear trees, you do not let me, I do not let you, are full of flowers to catch up. The red ones are like fire, the pink ones are like the sun, and the white ones are like snow. Flowers with a sweet flavor; closed eyes, the tree seems to have been full of peaches, apricots, pears. Thousands of bees buzzed under the flowers, and butterflies of all sizes flitted about. Wildflowers are everywhere: a variety of samples, named, unnamed, scattered in the grass like eyes like stars, but also winking.

"Blowing face is not cold willow wind", good, like a mother's hand touching you, the wind with some of the heart turned over the smell of the soil, mixed with the smell of grass, and a variety of flowers, all in the slightly moist air brewing. Birds will nest in the flowers and young leaves in the middle of the happy, call friends to show off the crisp singing voice, singing a melodious tune, and the wind and running water to echo. The short flute of the cowherd boy on the back of the cow is also loud and clear at this time of the day.

The rain is the most common, one is three or two days. It's not a good idea to get annoyed. Look, like a cow yak, like a flower needle, like a fine silk, densely woven diagonally, the roof of the house is covered with a layer of thin smoke. The leaves of the trees are so green that they shine, and the grass is so green that it forces your eyes. In the evening, on the lamp, a little yellow light, baked a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, there are people walking slowly with umbrellas on the paths and by the stone bridges, and there are farmers working in the fields, wearing hats. Their houses were sparse and silent in the rain.

There were more kites in the sky and more children on the ground. The city and the countryside, families, old and young, also rush like, one by one all out. Shuffling the muscles and bones, shaking the spirit, each doing their own a thing to go.

Spring is like a little girl, blossoming and smiling as she walks.

Spring like a robust youth, with iron arms and waist and feet, leading us forward

Green leaves spit and swallows return, the campus is the most characteristic of a few clusters of Tibetan spring flowers, yellow flowers from the ground all the way to the top, they seem to be about as if they were together to show you a smile, smile is so bright, yellow color warms the heart, and sometimes think of the people are not even as good as a flower, the flower. The flower's life is so happy, and how many happy days in a person's life?

Spring always sees many things drilled out of the ground, remembering Wu Jun's poem "Gift to Wang Guiyang": the pine was born a few inches, then for the grass did not. I have not seen the cloud-covered heart, who knows the negative frost bone. A kind of sigh, a kind of bravado, the future is bright. When we were young, we were such a small pine, and all of us had the dream of being scientists under the words of adults. Every time you say up suddenly tall, proud of their own ambitious ideals, and now adhere to their dreams and how many of them? Always inadvertently let the water of the years washed away we wear a red scarf in the red flag under the dream, to be found when it has been too late to catch up, it is early to not know to that corner of the corner of the not to be sensationalized.

Are you the keeper of your own dreams? But I myself know that my dream has never been lost, just can not be realized. Perhaps it is because of the dream many people say I am different from others, aesthetic, outlook on life is different from others, every one with me at the same table said I have not grown up. My dream was never to become a scientist or a billionaire, I have been looking forward to a wheat field, and I am the keeper of the wheat field, and so many years have passed, I am living in my parents' dream, gradually their dreams into my life, and I actually also with them to suffer.

Preface to "Autumn in Spring" By Bakin

Spring. The yellowed wilderness turns green. New green leaves grew on the dead branches. The sun smiled gently on everyone, and the birds sang and flew. Flowers opened, red flowers, white flowers, purple flowers. The stars shine, red stars, green stars, white stars. The sky is blue, the wind is free, and the love is dreamy and beautiful.

Everyone has spring. Whether it's you, or me, everyone can have laughter, love, and intoxication in the spring.

Autumn, however, cries in the spring.

This spring, in the ancient city of the charming south, I sent away a period of my time.

Autumn's rain fell, but then it gave way to spring's winds.

On a sunny day after the rain, I walked with two friends through muddy roads. Walked over stone bridges and down paths along the banks of fields to visit a woman from the South, a crazy lady I had never met.

At the gate of a not-so-small manor house, we stood still. A little girl speaking a language I didn't understand opened the black wooden gate for us, which was nothing like the one in my novel. This was the home of a rich local.

In a shadowy room, I saw our host. A wide frame bed with a wide cooler and a thin quilt. She sat up and I saw her upper body. It was a wench in her blooming age.

The three of us sat on a bench across from her. A friend explained the purpose of the visit. She just laughed silently, as much as she cried. I looked at her silently for a few moments. Then I realized everything that my friend had told me. In the half hour or so we stayed there, we talked less than a dozen or more words and saw her laugh more than a dozen times in the fall.

Farewell she came out, and I came out with a heart of fall pain. I remembered where I had come from, my desire to help her, and I almost cried.

A wench, a wench at the age of blossoming ...... For the first time in my life I knew the meaning of madness.

My many years of endeavor, my books written in blood and tears, my life's goal is none other than this: to help people, so that every human being may have a spring in his step, every heart a light in his step, every life a bliss, and every development a freedom. I have aroused in man a longing, a longing for light; I have placed in front of man a cause, a cause worthy of dedication. Yet all my endeavors were destroyed by another power. Having awakened a young soul, only to leave him or her to more embarrassing ravages and torments.

So the wench went mad. Unreasonable social system, not free marriage, traditional concepts of bondage, family tyranny, I do not know how many blossoming young souls destroyed, my twenty-eight years, has piled up so many, so many shadows. In that autumnal laugh, like a weeping -like laugh, I saw the corpses of a whole generation of youth from the past. And it was as if I heard - an agonized voice say, "This shall end."

Autumn in the Spring is more than a story of gentle weeping; it is an appeal to an entire generation of youth. I will take up my pen as a weapon and charge for them, sending my resolute cry of "Je accuser" to a dying society.

May 1932 From "Preface and Trees"

<<Spring Melody>>

The water of the Mae River, the Iren stands, what is the beauty of its realm? The picturesque Tujia town on the shore of the Youshui River, at the foot of the Wufeng Mountains, is a landscape that will never leave my mind. The name of the town is the name of the river, the car wash river. Surrounded by green hills like a mother of the rich and beautiful embracing, the town is the poets pursued for thousands of years, inadvertently escaped from the "Book of Poetry" in the Irena, her hands rolled in the ribbon is the Youshui River.

From the age of fifteen to eighteen, I lived there for four whole years.

From the beginning it is said that it is a place of beauty, where the water, all seasons long clear. I don't know is a lot of girls' eyes into that a bright wave, or that clear bright river water into the girls' eyes, still remember, that river water every ripple is so bright bright, are so clean, at any time to pick up a handful of, into the mouth, are so cool and sweet, soak the lungs and the heart. At that time, the girls like to bathe in the bridge under the swimming, the bridge there are many hurried passers-by as well as leisurely cooler, for our game has long been commonplace, as if the face of the surrounding landscape as only as a familiar landscape. My partner has a water like the spirit of beauty and beautiful, delicate skin than the famous town of the four sides of the tofu brain, white and red face like a ripe peach, that tender, that delicate how to wash can not be washed fade. At that time there is no swimsuit, we are wearing self-love sewing small coats, generous with two small green peaches slightly raised chest, without fear in the water to wear water. Wear tired, swim enough, one by one walked ashore, sitting on a large chunk of green stone to do laundry, long black hair wet behind, all are water snake waist, all are moving mermaids, that laughter sunshine as transparent.

The town is a very quaint place, and the people are as simple as the clear fall sky without a trace of dross. The men's bathing place is very close to us, sometimes inadvertently a few naughty think they are not big enough little man from the bottom of the water into our camp. It was like spilling drops of water into a boiling frying-pan, and the shrieks and shouts of joy and the raised droplets of water went straight up into the clouds. But no matter whether they screamed or not, all the mermaids will be the same unprecedented unity, pulling the hand, catching the feet, scratching the armpits, scratching the heart of the feet, the intruder must be made exhausted and begged for forgiveness, and finally obediently rolled back to their own territory. This kind of game happens from time to time, but it has never caused a real war, we play a back to make a fuss, but also happily dispersed. In our hearts, no matter men and women body is not secret, beautiful is everyone's is also open.

After visiting many cities, I realized that children in small towns are the happiest. In the city parents again and again cautioned children not to bathe in the river, but the town's mothers are often those who are still toddling babies into the embrace of the river. In the town, I almost never heard anyone tell their children not to bathe in the river, the river is their paradise, but also their paradise, from the end of each year until October in the late fall, the town's children have been soaking in the clear water. And living there for so many years, I have seldom heard of any children drowning. This may have something to do with the pattern of the town's pressure, and the habits of the town's people. The town is built on two rivers, all the houses on the waterfront have a foot wall built up from the river, above which there is a big footstool sticking straight up to the river. There are countless eyes in the hammock that focus on the river at every moment, and if something happens to a child in anyone's house, the eyes on the hammock will see it most clearly. The deepest memory of a rescue activity is to save Mr. Ai's only daughter Aiyun, I do not know how, Aiyun often love to go down to the river alone, unknowingly became a small weight in the water, so that those who found her children issued a mountain of cries for help. The cries for help in the creek, the pots and pans in the hammock will follow the sound, the speed of the speed I think it must be better than the ancient wolf smoke, better than the anti-Japanese war when the message tree. In the twinkling of an eye, there are men, gently and skillfully swam to the side of the Aiyun, lifting up the Aiyun who is spinning on the whirlpool of the deep pool. This is always the time for the men to show off their composure and competence, and it is also the time when the eyes of the women in the hammocks are the most colorful. I was in a hammock to witness this wonderful show, the whole rescue time adds up to less than two minutes, although the time is short but seems so thrilling, so many years later I have not been able to forget. Remember that the first swim to the side of the big ugly Aiyun, because the two brothers look very thin, with the monkey skin like, people are accustomed to call them big ugly two ugly. But this time his movements are very beautiful, gently open the water, small barracuda generally into the water, a blink of an eye in the work of the people up. Many women who usually do not even look at him in the eye this time in the eyes of a more appreciation and respect.

In that particular era, the people in the town were really poor, and even the money to buy salt was often in short supply. But in the creek was rich. I don't know where the river was so many fish, shrimp and crab, how to catch them all year round. Once the water rises, we put a handpan or other tools in the river, we can get a lot of fish and shrimp. At that time we did not know to put fish medicine to poison the fish, touching fish and catching crabs is our greatest pleasure. It was quite an adventure. Once, I put my little hand into a deep hole and caught a soft thing thinking it was the tail of a big fish, and dragged it out to see, oh my, it was a flowery water snake! At that time, I had watched other people deal with this kind of scene quite a lot, and I also had some experience, so I quickly threw out my arms and drew a few graceful circles in the air, and the water snake probably didn't understand what was going on, and flew from the cool nest to the hot hillside. After all this training, I also practiced the boldness of a farm boy. Later in college, when I saw those girls who grew up in the big city shrieking at the sight of a caterpillar, I found it hard to believe that they weren't being pretentious.

What is richer than the creek are the mountains that surround the town. In the spring, there are prickly moss, sheep grandmother, Mao Qian'er, tea bubbles and March bubbles, in the summer there are dragon boat bubbles, and in the fall there are August melons, Yang Peach wild jujube wild pear. I have always suspected that these are the only things that grow in the mountains, read so many books, some of the East has not been seen from the books. For example, tea bubble it, it is like a colorful light bulb, not hot when it is red, cooked white with a little light green, some white face and a few black mold points, eat up tender and crisp, sweet and pleasant, the book has not been written. And March bubble, it looks very similar to the current strawberry, but more than strawberries to show much, delicate, crystal fresh, small particles but the flavor is sweet and fragrant, the book also seems to be less mentioned. In addition to these wild fruits, is the mountain fungus. Into the city to realize that people call them to do mushrooms, all year round as long as it rains, we can eat the fungus, that is almost a small town people table a main dish. And the most delicious to count the fir fungus, two hair a year, spring fungus golden, autumn fungus purple, fragrant, not only can eat fresh, you can also use the oil into the fungus oil as a noodle to eat fried vegetables as ingredients, make fungus dishes throughout the year, is a rare mountain treasures. In addition to this, there are many rare animals in the mountains, every time after the fall harvest, people will begin to go to the mountains to catch the war, up and down the wild boar, white noodles, muntjac flavor is particularly delicious. Some people can't get enough of the wild food, so they hang it on their beds and smoke it as a precious gift to their friends and relatives in faraway places.

Girls can't go to the mountains to catch the war, but all year round we stay in the water, is to stay in the mountains. We are a group of small women who have a child king, her name is Hong'e, on the mountain picking tea bubble, picking mushrooms, collecting firewood, as long as Hong'e yells, on the cottage down the cottage - the children of the whole town will flock to go. In the mountains, Hong'e was very good at taking care of everyone. I was a latecomer, coming here after elementary school with my mother, who had moved to work. I was the one who received the most care from Hong'e. Every time I collected the least amount of firewood, it was bundled so loosely that I couldn't carry it back. When Hong'e called out, "Bring me a cane," someone brought it to her, "Who has more firewood?" Someone added two more handfuls of firewood to my pile, and Hong'e quickly re-bundled it for me. Unfortunately, I was not good enough to get out of the pile of firewood, but I would cry out that I couldn't carry it any further, and every time, Hong'e would run up to me, put her own firewood on the pile, and then come back to pick me up. Later, I got into college, red e also got into a provincial city with a famous school, from then on, we left the town. We still traveled together on the way to and from the town, and I knew that she was still very good at college. The first time we met, many Changsha children looked at her dumbfounded: Xiangxi really have such a beautiful woman? After graduation, we are on different sides of the less some contacts, the day before yesterday, only to know that she has already put their own company to the provincial capital and the state capital. The first time I saw this, I was in the middle of a long conversation, and I went back to the town of Wufeng, a picturesque town on the banks of the Yangtze River, where I was in the middle of a long conversation.

The town, Izzy, goodbye?

Our Season - Spring

Spring, flower season, rainy season - our season.

White dandelions float along the roadside, willow branches spit by the stream, and the hills are covered with pink orchid peach bones ...... They tell hidden secrets in a special floral language. Sunshine, rain and air, mixed with the scent of the earth, bury the seeds and sprout in the spring ......

"Last night, a sudden rain, the sky will be Suqun things. What is the most prophetic? The grasses in the virtual garden scramble to emerge." The winter snow melts, the brook gurgles, the tender willow springs to life, and all this conveys the breath of spring! Ah! Spring, our season!

The rain, like the six-stringed zither, in the spring breeze, ding dong dong, is so melodious! The shadows of the trees, like the forest of dreams, lead me into, the colorful mystery. It's really mysterious there: it's full of spring, full of the fragrance of the flowering season, full of the freshness of the rainy season, because it's our season!

Spring is like Sunday morning, spring is like a purple dream, spring is like eyes that love to talk. She embraced the wind, sprinkled the rain on my beautiful heart, cleaned me to sprinkle, from now on there will be no worries; spring wind full of my yellowed laughter, flying to the sea, flying to the blue sky, flying to the world! Bring the laughter, put the ideal fly!

Going together to see the flower season, the rainy season, spring - our lovely season, the colors are full of the sky and the earth, chatting spring into a topic; going together to see the flower season, the rainy season, spring - our lovely season, the fragrance is full of the sky and the earth, closing our eyes and sucking them in, stretching out our arms, embracing spring, embracing the world. arms, embracing spring, embracing nature!

Spring, curving the corners of the mouth, without warning, smiling at us; spring, surprisingly, the first to our lovely group of flowers to show goodwill. Oh! It turns out that the splendor of the blossoms need the nourishment of the spring breeze and spring water, and also need the cultivation of the gardener!

Retaining the spring (prose)

A small pine tree reluctantly landed in the street on the green space. At first, the little pine tree still feel a little fresh, hasty passing pedestrians hustle and bustle, Mercedes-Benz and the car through the drill, but also from time to time honked the horn. Gradually, this noise and clamor, the little pine tree is really difficult to endure. It shook its body vigorously, really hate to be able to give birth to two feet, so that we can quickly leave this annoying street downtown.

But it was all in vain, the pine tree got tired of shaking, and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. It remembered its life in the nursery, where the air was so fresh and quiet all day long, unlike here!

At that moment, a small voice called out to the pine tree. Who is calling me? The pine tree opened its eyes wide and looked around, and it finally realized that it was the grass under its feet that was talking to it: "Pine tree, you are homesick, aren't you? Don't be discouraged, the environment can be changed!" The optimistic words of the grass made the pine tree feel much lighter. "Little Grass is right!" Peach and cherry tree advised together, "Our own green leaves can not only absorb dust, but also eliminate the noise, let's **** work together!" The pine tree no longer complained about anything, began to seriously absorb nutrients.

A year passed, two years passed ......

The third spring finally came. Thick and dense lawn like a green velvet carpet, the small pine tree has grown tall and big, beside the peach, cherry blossoms bloomed extraordinarily delicate, they smiled and thanked the small pine tree: "Because of you, only set us off so beautiful!" The little pine tree hurriedly waved its hand, "I should thank you all, without everyone's encouragement, I wouldn't be living here so happily."

A group of schoolchildren ran over and stood in front of the little pine tree, and the little boy captured the moving moment with his camera, preserving the smiling faces of the pine tree, the pittosporum and the grass, and preserving the spring!

Dating Spring (Prose Poem)

Waving goodbye to last night's cold winter, and giving wings to the hibernating heart to go on a date with spring.

Dating Spring. The first thing that woke up the hibernating heart last night was the spring bird, which was the first bird to wake up the hibernating heart last night. Rubbing sleepy eyes, I heard a gentle knocking sound. The doorway is filled with the warmth and fragrance of tea, and I can't help but feel that I've been blessed with the warmth of tea, and that I've been blessed with the warmth of tea.

Opening the door and pushing open the door to my heart, the warmth of the sunlight jumped and danced into the room, shining brightly on my long-drawn-out heart. The first thing you need to do is to get a few birds to talk to you, and then you will be able to get a few birds to talk to you, and then you will be able to get a few birds to talk to you.

Taking a step forward, a foot just out of the threshold, I found the green grass from my threshold, along the path to the spring. Was it leading the way for me?

I guess, spring is waiting for me anxiously! I can't afford to neglect Spring, or what will I do to comfort her if she gets angry and ignores me? And she already has a steed ready for me. Listen, my horse is calling me softly! So I rolled onto my horse's back, rode on the wings of the wind, and galloped away. Along the way the clattering hooves of the horse, gently smoothing out the remaining traces of my last night's heartache, and the sound of comforting voices, accompanied me throughout the journey ......

There it was, there it was, the promised Garden of Eden.

She is welcoming me with her shyness. Her young eyes are hiding under her flowing black hair, looking at me fondly. But, the long hair could not hide her light smile and faint blush.

Here, my long-awaited swallow has also returned south, and she is murmuring a familiar language, a language that only I can understand. In this place of appointment, the shy buds, peering into my devout eyes. The little trees, too, peeped out their little green heads and peeped into my young heart. The brook originated from my feet, and was singing joyfully far away, taking my young heart to wander far away ......

In this place of appointment, the clear sky bloomed with white clouds for us. The lightly gliding white clouds must be the wings of the sky. I asked the blue sky, the blue sky held out the blue smile, nodded to me in silent response. So, I found the wings of the sky!

Under the clear sky, in the land of my date with the spring, planting the seeds of dreams, and the young heart. In my heart, I also planted spring. In this way, it will sprout in a misty spring rain, nourished by sweat, growing in the four seasons ......

Spring is coming, unknowingly get to come. The trees have not yet bloomed new buds, and the withered grass is not dotted with new green. But what came to my face was a gentle spring breeze. It is like a life in its infancy, growing gently and powerfully in slow motion. At this time, hopes, dreams, love, friendship, and vitality are all vaguely caught in the spring breeze. The long winter is coming to an end. In the winter, I have forgotten the change of years, the change of seasons, the heart of a thick callus, silent hard work, the world around me has long been familiar with. Struggling, carrying out silent plowing without seeking success, facing the pursuit of the future and the ideal of the treacherous road.

But spring is here, and there is a gentle sweetness in the air, and vaguely you can feel the birth and rhythm of everything in the world. Further on, the sun will gradually warm, and the air will slowly fill with sweetness. Trees will become green, grass will receive the end of the sky. Soon, flowers will open everywhere, and the willows will begin to cause sorrow. On the streets, colors will become bright, the sun will climb on people's faces, and there will be laughter everywhere. Nature is a miracle. Life is also a miracle, where it comes from, and where it goes, and the cycle repeats itself, like a deep and beautiful melody, beating endlessly.

If life is a song, the four seasons is a song, then this breeze at the beginning of spring is the moment of silence before the tune, the moment of breathless brewing and waiting, the subconscious outpouring of the throbbing melody. The chapter of the four seasons is about to unfold, and the great vitality and overflowing love will write the beautiful mountains and rivers. After a long wait, spring is about to erupt, a moment of silence, yet unquiet, yet deep and powerful. You can feel it, my friend, if you pay attention and listen. Spring is here, and a gentle spring breeze greets you.