Every poem, like a cup of tea, is bitter when it is uncomfortable and sweet when it is happy. If you want to drink a good cup of tea, you have to enter your heart and savor it. Every time I taste Tang poetry, my mood will always be sad with the poet's worries and happy with the poet's joy. Learn to think in sadness and enjoy in happiness.
Wang Changling, a famous poet in the Tang Dynasty, loved his motherland very much. Since the Qin and Han Dynasties, foreign countries have invaded the mainland continuously, and wars have been very frequent. Many patriotic soldiers went to the battlefield before bidding farewell to their families, heroically killing the enemy on the battlefield and serving the motherland. They have been away from their hometown for a long time and the conditions are very difficult. At night, the bright moonlight shines on the frontier fortress. Soldiers who came to the frontier fortress from thousands of miles away to resist the invasion of foreign enemies saw all this, but they couldn't think of their relatives or their hometown. Alas, if Li Guang were still alive, tarkan would never be allowed to climb the Yinshan Mountain. With this in mind, Wang Changling wrote a poem-"Out of the Embankment" with indignation: The moon was off in Qin and the people did not return on the Long March. But Lu must be there, instead of teaching Xiuma to cross the Yinshan Mountain. When I read this, I hid my thoughts. The soldiers guarding the border are also flesh and blood, and they also have deep affection and love, but for the sake of national stability and people's peace, they would rather not return to their hometown for more than ten years, and their relatives are looking forward to their return. How can we understand the bitterness and bitterness, sorrow and sadness? How do they suppress their homesickness? How many hardships will you experience? That deep sense of sadness is sour. I know very well that I can't compare with them. I am ashamed, my cowardice.
Back to five years ago, when I was a freshman, I was so crying and fragile, just like flowers in a greenhouse, and I couldn't stand the wind and rain. Every time I go back to school for a few days, I cry like a crybaby, which gives my teacher a headache. During lunch break, the teacher asked me to jump rope on time. I can't dance well. Haven't jump a few times, just cried with a "wow-". I threw away the rope and just sat on the ground and wiped my tears. Many teachers thought I was wronged and gathered around to ask. I didn't notice. I didn't know how embarrassed the life teacher was at that time. All I know is that the life teacher picked me up and ran to the classroom quickly. At that time, I was really delicate. I didn't expect how bumpy the road ahead was and how many difficulties were waiting for me to overcome.
A poem is a piece of advice, and a poem is a bell that awakens a confused person and knocks on a bright future.