After reading the Book of Songs, I feel 1000 words. When I was a child, I was very happy to stay in the bookstore after school and wait for my family to eat. Reading is not just a topic of study. The world of reading is quiet, and the expression of words is a pearl of human civilization. Now share the book of songs with 1000 words.

After reading the Book of Songs 1000 words 1, set foot on the road of cultural roots, wade through the long river of history flowing eastward for 3,000 years, go upstream, penetrate all the pages with deep eyes, hold your breath and listen. The voice is unpretentious, melodious and long, and it passes through the dust of the Millennium. It is a call from ancient times and originated from the origin of Chinese culture.

When Confucius compiled the Book of Songs, he once lamented: There are 300 poems, in a word, thinking innocently. Its essence is expressed in one sentence. The language of The Book of Songs is gentle, sincere and implicit, and it can be called the ancestor of Chinese culture. It witnessed the wonderful time when China children babbled, were simple, sincere and naive. Looking for the soul movement of the Book of Songs, listening to the affectionate singing of the Millennium, every grass and tree in the poem is a friendly companion of the ancients, and every sentence in the song sings people's best yearning.

Love is the eternal law of mankind. The steadfast love in The Book of Songs solidified the attitude of always watching love-waiting. It is like a wonderful flower that never fades, ignoring the boundaries of time and space and blooming in every corner of the grass. I clearly remember the day when you took my hand and said, "Life and death are rich, talk to Zicheng, hold your hand and grow old with your son." Now this gentleman is in service, and I don't know its period. But how can this break us up? Qian Shan, thousands of miles away, I am waiting for you to come back. Even when I am white-haired, I will not change my attitude of expecting your triumph and practice your original oath.

From the very beginning, The Book of Songs expressed people's sincere feelings in simple words. The mountains have no edges, the rivers are endless, there is Lei Zhen in winter and rain and snow in summer, but I dare to say goodbye to you. The attitude of pre-Qin people towards love is shocking. Love, just one word. It turns out that you can love so decisively. On the other hand, at present, love is rampant, desire is chaotic, and breaking up and divorce seems to be a common occurrence. I don't know whether we should properly slow down the high-speed pace of life, quietly experience the true meaning of love in the Book of Songs, and wait for the purest feelings at the beginning of people's hearts to return to the original beauty.

Love, never give up, quietly waiting for your return.

Guan Yu, in Hezhou, opens the front page of the Book of Songs, and Guan Yu's hoof comes at you. People's thoughts are rippling, and they suddenly fall into a vague and implicit mood. The river flows leisurely, the water shepherd's purse floats, the pigeons leave, and the song is euphemistic and melodious, which makes people roll. The confession in The Book of Songs, "My Fair Lady is what I want", is subtle and tactful, and never pretentious. But this is not cowardice. In the face of true love, even with a sandbar, a handful of aquatic plants and a curved spring, we should convey our inner feelings. Every word is subtle, but every sentence is true. It touched you and me. In every lush years with dreams, it turns out that lovers can be so free and easy, and being loved can be so real. There are thousands of jewels in Qian Qian and thousands of buildings in Qian Qian. Only this long river and slender aquatic plants have witnessed our love, but this is enough. Loving you is just a feeling. When I fall in love with this feeling, all external auras are irrelevant. I can't refuse your outstretched hand, because you have crossed my forehead.

The lost years can't take away the tenderness, watching the river drift away. In today's materialistic world, how many people can face their inner calls and be with the people they love, and how many people are loved because of pure love itself, rather than pursuing materialism. Is love still love when it can be measured by material and labeled with price? The same "peach flies" a thousand years ago, but it is not the same "burning its China" a thousand years later.

Did happiness abandon us, or did we abandon happiness?

I think the reason why we should seek for root culture and carry forward socialist culture is because of nostalgia. Perhaps in a busy moment, the once forgotten beauty will suddenly come to mind. We will miss the moonlight in the poem, people and thoughts generated by pure emotions. People in the pre-Qin period can express their touching feelings and philosophies with simple and almost rough words. "If you know me, I am worried; I don't know who I am, that is what I want; " I used to go there, Willo Yiyi; Today, I think of the sadness of rain and snow; The wisdom of "stones from other mountains can attack jade" passed through the smoke and dust of thousands of years, singing and singing, out of the east gate and up the ridge; Everything is desirable.

The ancients can express their true feelings with birds and fish, reeds and wild flowers, ebb and flow of tides, and full moon and loss of moons. It turns out that love can be so pure and innocent, life can be so quiet and harmonious, and man and nature can live in perfect harmony. Now I am in the jungle of reinforced concrete, as busy as a machine from nine to five. Modern people who want too much forget what they really want.

I miss the ancients because they are too sincere or because we are too complicated.

Perhaps the most important thing for The Book of Songs is not to shelve it as a classic. Perhaps the most essential significance of reading The Book of Songs is to teach people to feel the simple and sincere yearning of the ancients for life, to look at everything around them with a childlike and innocent heart, and to learn from the indomitable spirit of the ancients in pursuing the beauty of human nature.

After all, it's easy to miss being apart for a long time.

The singing of The Book of Songs drifted away, taking away the longing in the depths of time. Looking back from a distance, The Book of Songs is like a milestone, condensing the soul of the Chinese nation and radiating eternal beauty. Walking on the flowing water, listening to the call from ancient times, it seems that I have returned to those ancient days that have passed away:

"Jian Peijun Cang, the Millennium is frost; The so-called Iraqis are on the water side. . . . . . "

After reading The Book of Songs, there are 1000 words, but there is nothing to say —— Thoughts on Reading The Book of Songs Cao Feng Mayflies

Gently untie the white jade bead curtain and scatter the sunset outside the curtain. The teenager in front of him leaned back on the carved pear wooden chair, and his thick eyelashes covered his slightly closed eyes.

Suddenly, the breeze came and the cable of the old Tang tree rang under the courtyard. As soon as this was said, a piece of snow-white petals floated leisurely and fell into the moire jade cup in the hands of teenagers. The teenager suddenly opened his eyes, looked at the petals as thin as boating in the cup, smiled heartily, looked up with a frown, and drank semi-cold sake with the petals.

I cried, "Your Highness, King Xiqi has entered the south city of Dongling."

Yun Xiuyu nodded faintly: "In three days at the latest, Xiqiao's army can crush the capital of Dongling."

"No," I said, "the third prince and the fifth prince have fallen to the west. Tomorrow morning, Kaesong will see the king."

There was a flash of surprise in Yun Xiuyu's beautiful chestnut pupil: "Are the third and fifth brothers all down?"

I nodded.

"So, are you here to persuade me?"

I am noncommittal: "Stay green."

Yunxiuyu stood up slowly and poured herself a glass of warm wine. "Xiu Yusheng is the prince of Dongling, and I can't sit in Xiqiao."

I was silent for a while and said, "The city guarded by King An of Dongling has not fallen. If your highness abandons the northern city and goes to Ying Ning, he may get a chance to live. "

Yu Yunxiu smiled, and the egg-white cheek overflowed with a shallow pear vortex. "Court siu-tong flowers, the night is just right. Roll up the bead curtain for me. "

I went over, picked up the blue ribbon on the windowsill and plunged the bead curtain into it. Looking back at Yun Xiuyu, I saw that he poured another glass of wine and was savoring it.

"Mayfly feathers, clothes. Is the worry in my heart where I belong? " YunYu holding a wine lamp, looking at the siu-tong tree outside the window, eyes also don't know is dim or calm, "crane longevity chitose, swim with pole. Mayflies live and die, and they are happy. Sigh only sighs that I was unfortunately born in the emperor's family, which caused the misfortune of the prince. "

"It's a flash in the pan, what's fun, but it's so small in a flash." I said.

Yunxiuyu shook her head, and a faint bouquet of wine was scattered in the air: "Before it's too late. Qin Shihuang ordered an alchemist to pray for the continuation of life, and Emperor Wudi made Sendai immortal, but in the end he could not escape driving the crane to the west. How powerful is the destiny, why bother to compete with it? "

"Your Highness thinks he should be compared with ephemera?"

"Xiuyu is only one of the tens of millions of people in Dongling, so it is not a flash in the pan."

I couldn't stop laughing: "Your Highness belittled himself, but don't forget that your Highness was the emperor of the Tang Dynasty and shouldered the fate of the whole Dongling country."

Yu Yunxiu also self-deprecating smile, not language.

Raise a glass to drink again, and Yun Xiuyu's eyes suddenly changed, which I have never seen as his counselor. Under his long eyelashes, his eyes were blood red.

"Mayflies are short-lived. They only spread their wings for a moment and will be born with water overnight." 1 of "pa" soup, Yu Yunxiu fell the jade cup, I don't know when, hanging on the wall milling iron dagger has been in his hand.

"YunXiuYu is willing to be a ephemera in this life. Now I am ordered by Xiqiao Guo Jun, and my family hates the country and hates it. " Yunxiuyu responded, took two ivory glasses from the case and filled them rudely. "You and I had a fight. There is no need to remonstrate today, and I wish to end the sunset. "

I looked up and slowly swallowed the wine. It is made of the best lotus flowers, and it is sour and astringent for some reason.

Put down the glass, Yu Yunxiu had already left, and more than two or three drops of cool drinks hung on the edge of the glass.

"Mayflies dig and read, and linen is like snow. The worries in my heart are mine. " I bowed my head silently. "I am weak, so I can't help your highness in his last effort."

The History of Dongling contains the seven emperors of Dongling, Yunxiuyu, the year of the total angle, good poetry and martial arts, and thirteen crowns burn the king. In the seventeenth year, King Xiqiao was stabbed in Cheng Nan at night, but he failed to hurt the king and stabbed himself at the gate. 10, the king of Xishu was killed on his way home.

"Mayflies have feathers and clear clothes. Sighing that life is short and my heart is full of sadness, how will I arrange the end of my life?

Mayfly flapped its wings in the air, showing off its colorful clothes. Sigh, my heart is full of melancholy, where will my life live?

Soft Mayflies just emerged from the ground, gently dancing white Marvin's clothes. Sighing that his life is short, I am full of melancholy. Where can I find my life? "

Then gently chanting, far away, the night is as cold as water.

Flies are flying and blindfolded.

"There is nothing to say about floating life, but I want to engrave the year of eternal joy."

After reading The Book of Songs 1000, I pursue the poetry of life in classic reading.

Everyone is poetic, sleeping on the slow reading road, waiting to be awakened. And The Book of Songs knocked on my door to the poetic world.

The Book of Songs is like China's Bible. Although it is only a few crosses, it carries a profound literary connotation and can stand the scrutiny of time. Wang Xiaobo said: "It is not enough for people to have this life, but also a poetic world."

The first time I met The Book of Songs, it was because of a TV series whose title had been forgotten, but Guan Ju, the protagonist he recited, was deeply imprinted in my mind.

A handsome boy paced up and down on the bridge, holding a folding fan, wiping his forehead and laughing, shaking his head and chanting, "The pigeons off the bridge are in Hezhou." The beautiful and virtuous woman is a good spouse of a gentleman. "Laughter intoxicating, as if touching the willow branches of the spring breeze intoxicating. The scene, hazy, made my pen feel a little picturesque.

Farewell to the Book of Songs, in a Chinese class, the teacher explained that "the field of life and death is wide, and you can tell your son to hold your hand and grow old with your son." In a word, sixteen words, and vows, I vaguely saw the frosted flowers on my temples, snuggling up to each other, so beautiful and charming. At that moment, it was clear and clear, which added a touch of poetry to my words.

Today, my intimate acquaintance with the Book of Songs was when I recited "I love to remember poems" and met "Peach Blossoms fly away, burning their glory. When my son returns to China, he should stay at home ... "The short poem is full of deep wishes, which moved me. The true feelings of the ancients are so simple and elegant.

So, I bought a Book of Songs and read it in my spare time. After reading it, I found that most of the authors of The Book of Songs are anonymous. Why? Doubts swirled in my mind, prompting me to infer from this poem. ...

"I left yesterday, willow, a.. Today, when I think about it, it rains. " I seem to hear a drunken roar from a battle-hardened and riddled soldier. ""QingQingZi article, leisurely in my heart. Even if I don't go, I'd rather not send a message? "Let me seem to see a woman standing by the wall, dressed in plain clothes and dancing her hair. Through the autumn water, I can't see the right person, whispering" I haven't seen you for a day, it's like March ... ""July filariasis, September clothes ... "Let me appreciate the hard work of a genre painter, and their tired expressions seem to be crying about a heavy history. ...

From this point of view, at that time, no matter the status, anyone could express his feelings through poetry. Now, where are our poems?

In this corner, most people are holding mobile phones, and in that corner, most people are typing on the keyboard. They are all immersed in busyness, busy pursuing the life intoxicated by money, busy catching the hustle and bustle of feasting, abandoning the poetry that should be in their bones and getting lost in the fast-paced life.

I wonder if I can calm down and read the Book of Songs slowly and listen to the stories of unpretentious workers since ancient times. Labor and love, war and corvee, oppression and resistance, customs and marriage, ancestor worship and feasting are all sung in the Book of Songs.

May the fragrance of the Book of Songs soak every reader's soul, and always look forward to Poetry and Distant Distance, seeking poetry in life.