Yu Xiuhua wrote a poem "Wheat is Yellow". Coincidentally, a little-known poet named Li Shangchao also wrote a poem "Wheat is Yellow". His "Yellow Wheat" has only four lines and 31 words, while Yu Xiuhua's "Yellow Wheat" has 17 lines and 284 words. Both poems are excellent, but I prefer Li Shangchao's Wheat is Yellow.

I have a soft spot for wheat. The wind blows the wheat waves, which is still the largest and most beautiful scenery in my eyes. Whenever the wheat is about to ripen, my mother often assigns me to see how long it will take for the wheat to ripen.

When I was young, I rode my bike through the wheat fields. The wind swept across the wheat fields and rolled up waves of wheat. At that time, the wheat had already bid farewell to weakness and became very strong. This makes the wind blowing very seriously and cleverly. On the vast Yuan Ye, waves of wheat are surging and rushing, like a horde, uniform and tireless.

like an adult, I grabbed two ears of wheat, put them on my palm, rubbed them hard, and saved my breath. My loyal shell of wheat was scattered with the wind.

On the palm of your hand, the light green, full-bodied wheat grains are lying in the sun with a faint luster. Put it in your mouth, chew it lightly, and the full juice and faint fragrance instantly occupy your mouth, and then drive straight into your heart and spleen, making people fascinated.

Wheat in the mouth, together with teeth, tells me quietly when they are far from maturity through "chewing strength".

The wheat is finally yellow, which indicates that the wheat is ripe: large tracts of wheat fields are neat and high, as far as the eye can see, like soldiers being inspected, like gifts returned by the earth to the sky. My hometown in Hebei basically finished harvesting wheat in ten days, which is called "wheat ripening". Countless huge and full ears of wheat droop in a moment, and Huang Chengcheng land, like a flame burning on a straw, ignites the eyes of farmers.

? Let's look at Shangchao Li's The Wheat is Yellow: The wheat is yellow/the wheat is really yellow/they are standing neatly in the breeze/not afraid of knives at all.

I have lived in my hometown for 17 years, and I have seen 17 crops of wheat. Every crop of them is wonderful, every crop is strong, and every crop is like what Li Shangchao wrote in his poem: "Standing neatly in the breeze". "Neatly", how wonderful these four words are, and how appropriate it is to describe the wheat in my hometown. Neatly is a magnificent sight, a gesture, a spirit and a sign of dedication.

the moral of this poem is many times higher than we thought. The wheat here can be a student who has just stepped out of the ivory tower, a beautiful teenager who has grown up, any industry, anything and anyone.

"I'm not afraid of knives at all". Wheat is ripe and needs to be harvested to realize its own value, so I'm not only not afraid, but also calm and free to stand in the breeze. After reading this, I feel distressed, pity and admiration for these wheat standing neatly in the breeze.

Let's read Yu Xiuhua's The Wheat is Yellow again:

Let's hold a lamp to see the wheat field behind the house.

Let's take a look at the wheat when the rain is heavy.

Last year's promise and noise are still in your stomach. You need to be careful when you walk.

Turn on the flashlight. We cross the awakened green snake, cricket and floating flowers.

. Look at the yellowing process of wheat.

Sit down next to wheat, and a wheat is sheltering us from the rain.

Say, say how much you love me, such a rainy night and a wheat field that doesn't cross the border.

The boat that survived came ashore in the dark.

We dug the bottom of the boat and drank water to keep warm.

The wheat changed overnight, and you pinched my hand until it hurt.

My uncle is still scattered. Silly sister is terminally ill

Let's beat her into a small wheat grain

and then put her into our stomach. Every time her pain

will depend on our nearest place

Before that, she will turn into eighteen years of sadness in every lightning

What will the dawn look like tomorrow

Did you hear the roar of the wheat wave < Like spirits, when you open the lid, you can feel a rush, which makes people look down upon it and neglect it. This poem is no exception.

The theme of her "Wheat is Yellow" is love, and the brushwork is delicate: the wheat in her works is both sad and strong. In the first half of the poem, I wrote "scary" love and love promise, and wheat is the pledge of promise. The middle part writes about the sweetness and pain of love, and wheat is the witness of this sweetness and pain. The second half focuses on the ending of love, and sadness conveys strength.

"What will the dawn look like tomorrow? Did you hear the roar of the wheat waves? "This is the crowning touch and climax of the whole poem: no matter what kind of night you have experienced, dawn and light will come; No matter how crazy the wind is and how sudden the rain is, it will be sunny in the end. And the roar of the wheat wave is a kind of strength, an unyielding and unstoppable force.

Both poems describe the similarities of wheat and the spiritual quality of wheat from their own perspectives, fully expressing their inner feelings. The differences are as follows: Yu Xiuhua pays attention to loving children, while Shangchao Li's "wheat" is richer in connotation and wider in pattern, which can give people more emotion and strength; Yu Xiuhua's poems are sad and heavy, while Shangchao Li's are more powerful and light. Yu Xiuhua's poems use many "raw materials" such as green snakes, crickets and rain, while Shangchao Li's only uses wheat, wind and knives ...

Standing on the vast and bumper Yuan Ye, people will be touched by the gift of the earth. If it's me, it must be Shangchao Li's Wheat is Yellow.

read it again. Good poetry is like delicious food and beautiful scenery, which makes people reluctant to part.

The wheat is yellow

Shangchao Li

The wheat is yellow

The wheat is really yellow

They stand neatly in the breeze

They are not afraid of knives at all.