Find the answer to the eighth grade (1) comprehensive learning and training questions.

Tang Wang Changling's Seven Songs of Joining the Army

There is a dark snow-capped mountain in Qinghai, with long white clouds and a lonely city looking at Yumenguan.

Yellow sand wears golden armor in hundreds of battles, but the loulan is not returned.

The second article

Great maternal love

In the silent night, the north wind roared, and the moon shone its dim light on the earth in a simple hut, and there was still a ray of light shining.

Meng Jiao can't sleep in bed. He will leave his mother who gave birth to him and raised him early tomorrow morning and go to Beijing to take the exam. Thought of here, his eyes could not help but shed hot tears.

In the dim light, Meng Jiao saw her old mother sewing that shabby cotton-padded coat for him with rough hands, and her thick maternal love moistened his heart.

The north wind is still whistling, like a wolf howling. Mother was shivering with cold, and her fingers were stiff with cold, like red carrots. She put down her needle and thread, put her hands together on her mouth, took a few breaths, and then rubbed it hard. Seeing this, Meng Jiao's tears poured out again. He really wants to rush up and hug her mother to keep her warm.

The relentless cold wind kept coming at the hut, and the lights swayed from side to side. The faint flame couldn't stand the cold wind and went out with a bang. Mother sighed and picked up the flint in the dark. Bang, the oil lamp went on, and mother continued to mend clothes. However, the relentless wind hit the hut again and again, and her mother lit the oil lamp again and again and continued to repair it.

Looking at her mother's back, Meng Jiao couldn't help thinking of a little thing that happened in her childhood. One day, Mr. Wang offered to buy a book, but Meng Jiao's family was too poor to even care about life, let alone buy a book. He didn't tell his mother. But it still blew into my mother's ear like the wind. Soon, my mother took a brand-new book to Meng Jiao. It turns out that my mother pawned her only dowry.

Mother is still mending clothes under the oil lamp. Suddenly, my mother's brow wrinkled, and a drop of bright red blood oozed like a pearl. My mother put her hand on her mouth and sucked, and then continued to make up as if nothing had happened. See here, Meng Jiao's nose is sour, tears can't help anymore, like a spring water pouring down, wet the pillow.

The moon put away the last ray of sunshine and the sun rose. When I came to the yard, my mother stroked Meng Jiao's head and reluctantly said, "Son, you must come back early!" "

Meng Jiao's eyes blurred again. Mother is like the sunshine in spring, shining on the tender grass. Her great love will accompany him through the storm, towards the distant.

Looking at the mother waving in the distance, a little poem flows in Meng Jiao's heart:

The thread in the loving mother's hand,

Make clothes for her wayward son.

She sewed it carefully, mended it thoroughly,

Afraid that the delay would make him come home late.

But how much love does an inch of grass have,

Make three spring scenery.

Tang Wang Changling's Seven Songs of Joining the Army

There is a dark snow-capped mountain in Qinghai, with long white clouds and a lonely city looking at Yumenguan.

Yellow sand wears golden armor in hundreds of battles, but the loulan is not returned.