Country song prose

Early in the morning, I walked out of my long-lived home and went for a walk on the Yuan Ye in the suburbs. The breeze blows on the face, with the fragrance of earth, fresh and cool. These trees stand upright. On the green wheat leaves in the field, crystal dew is shaking.

I stood still. Vilen is very quiet. The wind doesn't seem to have the heart to blow the transparent dew on the fallen leaves. The grass worm is silent. I dare not sigh my helplessness and loneliness. Close your eyes and let your thoughts wander in Yuan Ye and swim in the breeze.

When I opened my eyes, I found that the fog had slowly enveloped the countryside behind me, and it was getting thicker and thicker. In a short time, the whole village was hidden in thick fog. The trees in front of me, vilen, are gone. Only this little bit, wisps of thick and light fog, like white ribbons, are flying, winding and flowing.

Staring at the looming countryside behind me, my thoughts slowly turned into surging poetry in this warm and graceful atmosphere. I am like a lost child, standing on this Yuan Ye in the year of my life, pursuing the charm of a leisurely white cloud floating in the blue sky; Pursue the green meaning of a clear water; Pursuing the spring of bees and butterflies. Then, pick up a mellow fragrance and put it in your heart to feel the deep countryside; Feel the pulse of farming civilization; Feel the most simple and vigorous cry in the countryside; Feel the massiness of this land under your feet; Feel the blood and sweat of this land; Feel the simplest persistence and perseverance of farmers; Feel the pain and helplessness experienced by farmers.

The countryside is an era. Time is like a song.

When we make gestures, we tend to be humble supporting actors, look up to happiness in the most humble position, cherish the present, and be sincerely grateful for everything we have-the modest farmers who are as gentle as jade in this world! Even if you raise your hand, the elegance and brilliance between your gestures are dim like fireflies and beans, and they are not integrated into a flashing neon, but should be like Bai Hong and spring breeze. Even if we live in a corner where the sun can't penetrate, we will be tenacious, tenacious and unyielding, fighting until dark, wildfire never quite consumes them; Drought will not die; The flood is endless; Ice and snow are indestructible. This is the essence of farmers. The nature of this silent trace often makes my heart have an indescribable throb; Often let me have a deep respect for lower life! Our life is ordinary, with Kunlun Mountain, surging Yellow River, leisurely breeze and bright moon. Can you witness it?

This dull life and carefree attitude are as light as the breeze. The yellow face fluttering in the breeze is an ethereal country song, right? I am pursuing the pace of vicissitudes in the countryside, and the beauty in my heart is the essence of being at a loss! How can my heart touch your skirt?

A fallen star cannot dim the brilliance of the night sky; A flower withers, and the whole spring can't be deserted; A water disappears, but the whole river will not dry up; The traffic in the city is not rural; Bridges and flowing water in the south of the Yangtze River are not villages; The vast snowfield in the north of Saibei is not a country; The long sandstorm is not a country in the western regions; The vicissitudes of the East China Sea are not villages; The countryside is a clear spring flowing quietly in a mountain stream. Let it be green, let it be indifferent, and the country plain shirt will remain unchanged.

The countryside is an era. Time is like a song.

In my ordinary life, I sang softly with a bamboo pipe in my hand. Mountain is the root of the mountain, and water is the water of forgetfulness. Wherever my body drifts, my heart will accompany this country. The country is the eternal warmth in my heart, which makes me indifferent, happy and complacent in the impetuous world of mortals. I just want to float in the country with the oriole hovering in my dream, and I don't want to be tired of fame and fortune, trapped in desire, just like the calm and far-reaching sweet water. I want to touch the skirt of the country, but I touch the clear, clear and soft water at my fingertips. It's so delicious!

The sun finally stumbled up. The fog began to gather slowly. The sun scattered through the clouds, and the right temperature warmed my heart. The countryside behind him gradually became clear. Staring at it, this charming home is like a beautiful and pure poem. I don't know how many seasons the bluebird has flown overhead, but it is always as quiet as the sunshine in front of me.

The countryside is a clear spring in the vast desert, which gave me hope when I was desperate!

The country is a warm and graceful ballad that gives me spiritual comfort when I am disheartened!

The long-term drought in the countryside has nourished my spirit when I was pessimistic and disappointed!

In the countryside, when the wind is whistling around you, you just think it is a breeze.

In the countryside, when the rainstorm pours in front of your eyes, you just think it is a drop of water on the roof.

In the countryside, when lightning rages overhead, you just think it's a passing firefly.

In the countryside, you always stand in simplicity and quiet, and never bow before adversity and arrogance. You don't have the prosperity of the city, wash away the complexity of the world, stand quietly in this noisy and lonely world, and bow your head as humbly as I do, and stretch out your hands. This is a humble and submissive gesture, but it is also a warm gesture with noble humanity like a gentleman. In the direction pointed by the finger, there is a pure blue sky, like a mirror on Van Gogh's canvas; There is a gorgeous flower sea like oil painting; Golden sunflowers, nourished by the sunshine, grow the seeds of hope, tilting their heads, but carefree.

The countryside is an era. Time is like a song.

I don't know, is there a scene, a memory in everyone's heart, which grows quietly in the years and turns into a song from the bottom of my heart, or relieves the melody, or is it sad? But in my heart, the country is a melodious song. When I am in the world of mortals, when the dust settles and the countryside sings in my heart-

That's enough. This little pearl memory is enough to prove how happy I am living in the countryside. I think, what I want is this little happiness that I can stare at gently in my hand.

The countryside is like a door left unlocked, people standing outside! Do you think it is stupid, vulgar and cold? Walking in, you will find it as gorgeous as a meteor across the sky and as beautiful as a Datura flower.

By the time the memory of the years is no longer clear, leaving people sighing and smiling, I have put all the details about the countryside into my heart. Even if the memory turns yellow, this country still smiles in my heart like a spring breeze!