Childhood ideal ancient poetry

1. Ancient poetry dreams about childhood dreams in primary school classics

dream

Make a cloak out of winged ribs and chardonnay.

Dancing in heaven.

Happiness goes with the wind with sleeves.

Smile, as beautiful as a flower

dream

This is a bird flapping its wings.

Pick a piece of blue on your chest and chase the playful clouds.

Guess where the hometown of the stars is?

Ask the axe hand of the Moon Palace, will you?

Leave the towering trees to the birds to nest?

dream

No birthplace

There is no stumbling, and the road is rugged.

Without me

No more crying in the afterlife.

Life is enough!

dream

Wandering in the wind

Melt in the warmth of the sun

Green blood integrated into the earth

My childhood dream of flowing into a mountain stream

The lark's noisy sky

But I can't see the dazzling sunshine.

Submerged feet

Brush off layers of spray

A crooked hand supports a lazy skull.

Staring at the drifting boat not far away

Giggle.

Two-handed ring

Shout to the old man shaking his oars

Hey * * * * * * *

I am recalling my childhood.

childhood

Childhood, June 1 slowly came to us.

I thought, what is childhood?

It runs like a puppy.

Like a pig rolling.

Or climb like a little monkey

In my early childhood, I had some front teeth.

Thrown on the roof like seeds.

Absorb enough water to grow into tiles.

And the core of longan fruit.

Slip into your stomach, ready to take root from your feet.

A big tree with many fruits grows on its head.

My childhood, rolling in the dirt, grew up slowly.

What was my childhood?

Open your eyes and stare at a box that can pronounce.

Round and round, strangely enough.

I can't find the speaker in the box.

I rubbed my stomach with my little hand and wondered to myself.

Why can't I touch the candy mom said was inside?

Later, I entered school as a child.

I'm sitting in the classroom with people inside and my heart outside.

Watching birds fly by, dreaming of flying.

After school, take a group of partners and be teachers.

Relish and tell long and smelly stories.

I had a fight with Ling because she said the fairy in it was not beautiful.

Childhood grows with hair and stories.

Oh, childhood, a wonderful childhood.

Teeth have come out, but there are no fruit trees overhead.

I haven't bought the white shirt I've been waiting for again and again.

That beautiful dream became an unforgettable childhood.

Now I don't need a radio. I type and sing on the computer.

I also take a group of dolls all day and listen to the laughter of my childhood.

dream

Love the flowers in the soil

Wet spring mud

Wet fallen flowers

Who will cry in a dream?

Fog and frost?

love you

It is the soil facing the branches and flowers.

Time is not old, mud is not old.

Protect your fascinating life cycle

have neither complaint nor regret

Looking forward to the Millennium is fate.

When you get tired of charming spring scenery

When you wake up, show off your summer injury

Waiting for you to bow your head and shift the direction of love.

Pretend to be me, in your heart.

Waiting, autumn

Autumn rain stained with frost and falling flowers

Brush away your hazy fatigue

Hold you in my arms

This will be the most beautiful paradise there.

2. Poems about childhood and ideals are written by classmates themselves. I don't know if they are suitable for you ~ Thirteen-year-old days, thirteen-year-old eyes and thirteen-year-old hearts can't hide loneliness. Yesterday's diary didn't pretend to be there, just like today's footsteps are thorns. The sunshine at the age of thirteen is blue. We open our hearts and open the door to youth, ignoring piles of homework. I don't care what time it is until we go home. Let's make trouble. Play, even if it's raining, hiding under a handful of flowers is really frustrating. I forgot my home and laughed until I was thirteen years old. How worried are we about thirteen-year-old children? We are not afraid of wind and rain. Let's just-make fun of it. Let's play before we grow up at the age of thirteen. The seeds of youth have sprouted. Who says there is no gray in thirteen eyes? Who says thirteen's heart is not lonely? Today's diary never imagined where the flying dust and horseshoes rang like yesterday. Thirteen-year-old leaves are on our shoulders. We close our eyes, sigh our melancholy dreams and ignore the hazy boundaries. I don't care if I only live for thirteen years. We just need to-wait. Let's hope that even if we really quarreled for a long time before we burst into tears and were really uncomfortable, we should try our best to get back to the front. I'm afraid of clenching my fist and not falling down. I'm a little worried about my idea of thirteen. We just need-wait, let's hope to keep it before it grows up. We can't stand it for many years. We have blossomed.

3. The ideal ancient poetry of youth 1. If young people don't work hard, old people will be sad.

2. May the sword be placed and the Loulan cut.

People with ideals can see hope in adversity and light in darkness. (Roland)

The highest ideal of life lies in the pursuit of truth.

After obtaining a government degree,

Tang mengjiao

In the spring breeze, this proud horse runs at the speed of two beats. I visited all the sights of Chang 'an gracefully in one day.

At that time, people didn't understand my inner happiness at this moment, thinking that I was learning from young people and taking advantage of the good opportunity to steal.

Life is not lacking, and the flowing water in front of the door can still move westward. (Su Dongpo's "Huanxisha Tour Qingquan Temple")

You' nanting

Xie Lingyun in the Southern and Northern Dynasties

In the evening, the sky is clear in Wan Li, and the clouds go to the west.

The dense forest is bright, and the far peak is hidden.

After a long sleep, the hotel overlooks the suburbs.

Eupatorium adenophorum was gradually swept away, and hibiscus started late.

I am not tired of youth, I have seen Zhu Ming move.

Feeling sad, the stars are gray.

The poison bait stops, and the decline is sudden.

When you die, wait for autumn water and rest on the old cliff of the scenic weir.

Who am I interested in and who is smart? Only feast on conscience.

Xi Huayin

Tang Baojun emblem

Flowers on branches, flowers on people, poor color is youth.

Yesterday, I saw flowers burning, but now I see flowers falling.

Instead of waiting for the spring breeze to blow away, it is better to spend all this time playing.

Ying Ge danced with butterflies for a long time, and the red stove was cooking tea and flowers.

Dressed up and singing freely, I sent the fragrant branches back to the bridal chamber alone.

Qiu Jin

Tang Bai Juyi

The wind is cold and the sky is dusk.

There are hibiscus flowers in the atrium, which set in the morning.

Autumn has fallen, and dusk has come.

I'm sorry that I have no color, but I sigh without hesitation.

I feel this is because I missed him and talked to him.

Men are always rich, and women marry later.

Only when the head is white can you succeed, and when the color is weak can you convince people.

If you don't find yourself in the future, you will be as safe as youth.

Send a friend away

Dondum

After ten years of fame and fortune, everyone is struggling with life.

Youth can't stay, but white hair is born naturally.

Night rain drips homesickness, and autumn wind leaves parting feelings.

Fifty miles across the city gate, running horses and chasing chickens.

Send Li Qinggui to Huayangchuan.

Tang Libai

Bo Yang Xian Jia looks very young.

Xia Yun died in the secret cave of the Sun and Moon.

Turn your mind and cultivate your nature, and hide for a few days naive.

Not after a thousand years, back to the new city.

Give Guo Xu a horse

Tangli section

Youth is the most romantic, and when you are 20, you will worship Hou.

The golden distance of cockfighting crosses the garden, and jade spurs the horse out.

Xiang Xun has little pity, but Fu Fenhe Lang is puzzled.

At dusk, the flute is played on the willow tree, and passers-by give directions to Fengtai.

Go to the palace in March

Don

The canal is full of red walls and the wind is petite.

The curtain can be locked for thousands of years.

The title of the play is for two boys.

Don Liu Changqing

Frequently born in a foreign land, how many joys and sorrows are in the body.

I want to be ashamed of my white hair, and I think of my youth every time I watch a children's play.

I don't know who deserves the Lord, and I don't want to be separated from others.

I'm glad I didn't get married until I was old, but my family is relatively covered with towels.

Persuade sb. to study

Tang mengjiao

If you hit a stone, there will be fire, but if you don't hit Yuan, there will be no smoke.

It is unnatural to learn without learning.

Everything has to be his own luck. He has to be my sage.

Youth must be early, how can we grow into teenagers?

Become someone else's topic

Tangzhenggu

Tears are wet and lonely, and I feel dizzy in the mirror. Only recently can I cherish my youth.

Apricot blossoms and willows are good every year, and I can't bear to look back at old photos.

On the topic of eating new water pavilion to send doctors to South Zhangzhou

Tang Zhu Xuan Jing

Dan threshold initial structure, solitary crown Qingchuan.

The court is close to the trees in the valley, and the eaves fall down and the springs rise.

Twilight hangs the waning moon, and the night sound is complicated.

Youth is like water, when will happiness return?

Golden thread robe

I advise you not to cherish noble Yi, and I advise you to cherish youth. When the flowers should be folded, we should fold them quickly, and don't wait for the flowers to wither before folding one.

Yao Shi was sent to Jiangdong to carry out the mission of the imperial court.

Song Wenzhi

The emperor worried about heshuo and sent Hailingcang south. Sit and sigh at the farewell of youth, and the water is long.

4. With regard to the expression of childhood dreams that have only just begun to be practiced, the poem is sad [author] Du Mu [full text] is down and out in the south of the Yangtze River, with a broken back.

Yangzhou's ten years, like a dream, wake up, but in the brothel women this is a fickle reputation. The first two sentences of the poem are memories of Yangzhou life in the past: down and out, with wine as a companion; Qin Lou Chu, a beautiful girl, leads a romantic and dissolute life.

"Chu people have a thin waist and a light palm", using two allusions. Chu waist refers to the thin waist of a beautiful woman.

"King Chu Ling's waist is thin, and there are many hungry people in the country" (Han Feizi's handle). The palm refers to Zhao Yanfei, the queen of Emperor Han Chengdi, who is "light and can dance on the palm" (see the legend of Feiyan).

Literally, these two allusions praise the beauty of prostitutes in Yangzhou. However, if we carefully consider the word "down and out", we can see that the poet is very dissatisfied with his situation of being a servant and relying on others, so he does not have a pleasant feeling when recalling his dissolute life. "A dream of Yangzhou in ten years" is a heartfelt sigh of the poet. Seemingly abrupt, it is actually consistent with the above two poems.

"Ten years" and "one sleep" are relative in one sentence, giving people a strong contrast between "a long time" and "extremely fast", which shows the poet's deep affection. And this feeling comes down to the word "dream" of "Yangzhou Dream": In the past, I was debauched and bohemian; The prosperity on the surface and the depression in the bones are painful memories and sadness after awakening.

This is what the poet gave. Ten years later, Yangzhou was just a big dream.

"Brothel with a fickle place of interest"-finally, even the brothel that I once secretly loved blamed myself for being fickle and ungrateful. The word "win" contains bitterness, self-mockery and self-blame.

This is a further negation of Yangzhou Dream, but it seems so relaxed and humorous. In fact, the poet's spirit is very depressed. Ten years is not short in a man's life, but he has accomplished nothing and left nothing behind.

This is a poem that reveals pain. If you don't recite it repeatedly, you can't understand the feelings that the poet intends to imply. The predecessors' evaluation of quatrains is: "Three sentences are the main sentences and four sentences are thoughts" (Hu Zhenheng's Tang Yin Gui Qian), and Du Mu's quatrains can be said to be profound.

This quatrain begins with reminiscence, the first two sentences are narrative, and the last two sentences are lyrical. Of course, three or four sentences are the original intention of "mourning", but the first sentence "being down and out with wine" is the reason for mourning and cannot be easily let go.

In the past, the comments on this poem were completely focused on the author's "waking up in a busy dream and lingering in repentance", which was not comprehensive. The poet's "Yangzhou Dream" life is related to his political frustration.

So this poem, in addition to confessing the accident, is full of dreams and unbearable memories.

5. Use ancient poems to express the ideal. The old man rides a horse and aims at a thousand miles (Cao Wei's "Although the turtle is born"). I will ride the wind and waves one day, and and set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea (Tang Libai's "It's hard to get to the sky"). (Don Du Fu's "Looking at Yue") Why don't people take it and accept the 50 States of Guanshan. (Tang Lihe, "South", I hope that all the people will be warm and tired, and I will go out to the mountains. (Ming Yuqian's "Coal Fu") Falling red is not heartless, but turning into spring mud to protect flowers. (Qing Gong Zizhen, "Ji Hai Shi Hua") The country will live and die, why not avoid it because of disaster? (Lin Qingzexu's "Going to the Garrison to Show the Family") A cavity of blood is diligent and valuable, and it can still transform Bi Tao. (Modern Qiu Jin's Drinking) The full text of the spring water of the stars-The star (1) The author Bing Xin flashes a star-how can you hear them in the deep blue space? In the silent dim light, they deeply praised each other's second childhood. It is the truth in the dream, the tearful smile in the memory, and the trembling of 30,000 hectares-the moon on the dark island has come up with the source of life and the place of death! Fourth brother is the first! Three bright and happy stars in the soul, gentle and unspeakable children in the depths of the soul! How to describe darkness? The depth of the soul, the depth of the universe, the rest place under strong light, and the reverse side of six mirrors feel unnatural. Why don't you turn over? Only lonely and angry people are awake! Listening to the fortuneteller's gong beating the fate of the world, eight residual flowers dotted the branches, birds flew away and scattered all over the floor-life is also such a glimpse. Nine dreams are the most hidden! I have clearly and honestly told you the secrets and worries in your own soul. Ideal is definitely not the kind of degenerate product in the picture of a full moon and a boring era, which can satisfy my heart with high-top leather shoes and castanets on my fingers. I gave it back to Gavagni, a poet suffering from chlorosis, his beautiful woman in the hospital, because among these pale roses, there is no red ideal like me. This heart is as deep as a ravine, Lady Macbeth. What it needs is you, evil soul, Aeschylus' dream in full bloom in the wind, or Michelangelo's daughter's great night. You made a strange gesture frankly, and the charm just corresponds to the smell of Titan (5). Peony has no ideal portrait of vegetation. It grows in spring and turns yellow in autumn. It turned out that it was gradually silted up for real sediment and turned into a dirty pond. A man without an ideal is like an empty house without a master. It closes the doors and windows tightly, the walls of life are full of dust, knocking at the door outside, and there is no sound inside. Then open it, and life is crying: let an elf invade his heart from an evil distance and torture him enough, because he saw heaven on earth. According to its logic, you can't reach your destination more and more. Ah, ideal, what a wonderful feeling, but when it flows into the real ice cave, what you see is the wasteland in the north, which makes your rich heart lose everything. "I am the most reasonable idea, I am built on solid soil", but the reality is sinister quicksand, which only muddy feet can pass through. "I pointed out the lofty road to people, and then I followed her, like chasing a jack-o'-lantern, not knowing where I was going. I think-I dedicate myself to people with ideals in the world. Some people say that an ideal is a utopian dream. Some people say that ideals are the deception of schemers. Some people say that ideals are the shield of losers. I want to say: you have become a godless tramp. I want to say: you have become a small wooden sail floating around. I want to say: I have become a self-prisoner in the decadent stage. Ideal: I need diligent people to irrigate persistently. Ideal: I need the test of frustrated people's will. Ideal: I need the fearless courage of those who cut through thorns. Ideal: I need calm people to be patient. God said: Ideal is everyone's crown. God said: Ideal is everyone's file. God said: Ideal is everyone's spaceship. God said: Ideal is everyone's temple. Sunshine is as ideal as sunshine and water. The transparent body is charming. It begins with a book, a casual look and a bizarre story, and the obscure cause. The snow has melted, and the singing of birds in the sky is no longer interrupted. Qingquan is still a faint youth. It responds to the call of human mind with green water. The ideal sunlight is reflected by water and water body, and then it hangs upside down, which is like a truth. Things are connected with another story, forming a person's body and world. When the desert retreats, let the condensed clouds and unprovoked feelings drift with the wind, let the fearless spirits of the earth play holy and lasting music, and let the acacia and consciousness that go deep into fate point straight ahead. The ideal sunshine is hidden in the blue sea water, and the deep implication is that it is meditating from far and near to near and far, and is approaching the nonsense of truth and illusion step by step, those eyes of greedy dreams, conscience and ignorance. Forgotten words move again and again. All those words of love must also be the feeling of sunshine that ideals bring to life. Thoughts lurking in the soul are like words from ancient times this spring. How to touch and read with the hand of the soul, so that the dull and chaotic emotions can pass through the misty illusion, and then be suddenly enlightened.

6. Poems about childhood dreams Childhood dreams You can't see larks in the noisy sky, but you can't see dazzling sunshine. My feet were buried in the water and layers of water were thrown out. I stared at the lazy skull supported by bent hands, and the boat floating not far away gave a silly smile. My hand shouted at the old man rowing. * * * * * * * I am recalling my childhood, and I am slowly approaching our thoughts with June 1st. What is childhood? Does it run like a puppy? Do you roll like a pig or climb like a little monkey? In my early childhood, some front teeth were thrown on the roof, soaked by water like seeds and grew into tiles. A longan stone slipped into my stomach, ready to take root from my feet and grow a fruit-laden tree from my head. My childhood, rolling in the dirt, grew up slowly. What was my childhood? I opened my eyes and stared at a box that could pronounce, and walked around. Strangely, I can't find the speaker in the box rubbing his stomach with his little hand, wondering why I can't touch the candy my mother said was inside. Later, when I was a child, I walked into the school and sat in the classroom. People are inside, and my heart is outside watching birds fly by. After school, I fantasize about flying with a group of partners. When I was a teacher, I told a long and smelly story. I had a quarrel with Ling, because she said that the fairy in it was not a wonderful childhood, as my hair and story grew longer and longer. Beautiful childhood teeth have grown up, but there are no fruit trees on my head. I didn't buy that dream again and again, and it became an unforgettable childhood. Now I don't need a radio. I type and sing on the computer. I take a group of dolls all day and listen to my childhood laughter and dreams. Who cries in the dream of wet soil and wet spring mud falling flowers, and then condenses into frost? Loving you is the soil facing the branches, and the years are not old. Soil protects your fascinating life cycle. I have looked up for thousands of years without regrets. It's because I'm waiting for you to get tired of charming spring scenery, to wake up and to see things in a blur. Xia Shang is waiting for you to bow your head, shift the direction of love, and wait in your heart. Autumn rain and autumn rain stained with frost brushed away your hazy fatigue and held you in my arms. This will be the most beautiful paradise. The dream is to make clothes with ribs and chardonnay in heaven, dance happily, smile with sleeves and be as beautiful as flowers. Ask the axe bearer in the Moon Palace, can you leave towering trees for birds to nest? Dreaming that there is no birthplace, no stumbling road, no afterlife, it is enough to cry again! Dreams drift with the wind, melt into the warmth of the sun, melt into the earth, and green blood flows into a mountain stream.