Six selected touching recitations.

Lang, that is, the voice is clear and loud; Reciting, that is, reciting what prose is suitable for reading? The following is a touching prose recitation I compiled. I hope you like it.

1: My father is the past of my life. Maybe my memory still exists, but I have become the past. The jasmine brought back from the street is quietly placed on my bedside table. I stared at it wait for a while, and my thoughts became very complicated and drifting. There are many things in the world that can be replaced, but life can't. There are still some memories of the past, even in the darkness of the stars and moons, it is inevitable that it is a bit sad. Many times, I just don't let the tears flow.

I live in empty nostalgia. I began to hang my white soul on an invisible tree. I made this choice in order to escape the secular attack. I want to turn off my cell phone, close the security door and live a quiet life. In the dead of night, I feel lonely, confused and confused. I'm a quiet person, so I'm always alone at home, very quiet. I like the peace in front of me, but this peace will soon be broken by the hawking in my yard. Just like the sunset in the river was broken by a stone.

I thought about the feeling of this life, but did I? Settings? The status in reality and the order of life have not changed at all. When I stared at this bunch of jasmine flowers with a faint fragrance on the counter for a long time, I felt that the soul of the flowers attached to the molecules of the air and filled my heart. I began to understand that I have no reason to hurt my soul. I saw my father's smile and many things I should see, and I began to re-examine the value and courage of life.

I have been looking up at the sky all spring, looking at a white cloud or a blue sky in the distance. This kind of looking up has become my daily need, and everything is so peaceful and quiet. I like this kind of meditation in life. In this silence, I suddenly remembered a passage my father told me? People come into this world with a lot of debts. ? Thinking about my father's efforts to volatilize his industrious energy all his life, I realized what is hard work and what is best effort. When my father talks about debt, it is generally a person's social responsibility.

I love literature, but in my yearning for literature, I think my father is great. I need to read more books. But my family is really poor. Every time I ask my father for money, my eyes are full of tears? Dad, I want to buy books. ? Father always smiles and says? Let me sell you some food for money. ? Looking at my father and sick mother all the year round, tortured by embarrassment, guilt and depression, a hot liquid will come out. I know this hot thing is nothing but my tears.

I am a very stubborn person. I read and write. 1989 winter, finally one day, I suddenly broke into my house with a copy of Xi 'an Workers' Literature and Art, pointing to a poem and saying? Dad, I published it. ? My father smiled at me and I smiled back at him. Looking at my father's smile, I always think of that long literary experience, and my father's figure will emerge in my mind. I know that my responsibility as a son and my father's happiness and happiness is that I have been going on, and that is my diligent pursuit of literature.

I crawled on the steps set up by books, and my father's smile has always been my spiritual watch. I've been making an evolution with words. I saw my father's smile. This is a pair of expectations, and it is very warm to think about it. I shed tears while recalling, and I filled my memory with tears. It was in the past of my life that one relative expressed his affection and warmth to another in a unique way.

My father is the past of my life, and so am I. The existence and significance of fatherly love has influenced me in a subtle way, making me learn to be grateful, take on life with gratitude and enjoy life. When I am exhausted and really want to sleep, I still have the last consciousness in my mind. I saw my father still smiling at me.

Touching prose recitation 2: Yes, he is back. Yes, he came back, he came back.

A grasshopper stopped firmly on the windowsill outside the window, so it stopped firmly, stretched its legs occasionally, and then stopped again. I know, this is a grasshopper in summer. He said. He loves midsummer, cicadas in midsummer, heat in midsummer, and cool thin ice.

But in his favorite summer, he died. People say that he went to another place, that place, there was no fight, no fight, no verbal confrontation, and even no white eyes. So he went there and never came back.

June is still midsummer, and the hot weather seems to have drained people's sweat. He came back, he came back. In the spring of March, he rushed the grasshopper in midsummer and came here eagerly from the distant future. On that day, the abnormal heat was the abnormal heat in spring. It's hot, but it brings grasshoppers and green clothes in midsummer, which seems to look down on a midsummer. However, he came back, he came back.

He often says to us: I will always be with you, no matter past, present or future. But in a midsummer, he left in such a hurry that he didn't even say goodbye to his beloved students. In the mountains, only a group of children were screaming at the top of their lungs.

But someone came to teach us. In the first class, he opened his textbook and said, Let's talk about a new lesson, a night-mooring near maple bridge by Zhang Ji. He began to read aloud and asked us to read after him. However, in the silent classroom, nobody followed him.

? What happened? Reading. On a frosty night, Jiang Feng sleeps in the fishing fire, and the bell rings at midnight at Hanshan Temple outside Gusu. ?

? On a frosty night, I'm sorry Jiang Feng caught fire and worried about sleeping. Sir, this lesson has already been told. ? The big monitor said, her voice was calm. But from his emotional tone, I seem to hear the deep cry of Pluto, who was kicked out of the ranks of the nine planets from the depths of the universe.

On a frosty night, Jiang Feng vaguely remembered the day when the flowers bloomed, and he was going back to the city. The teaching task has been completed, and everything here has nothing to do with him. However, he is reluctant to leave, reluctant to leave this classroom about dreams and ideals.

However, he had to go. There is a woman as beautiful as flowers and pure as jade waiting for him in the city.

So on that starry night, in the middle of the night, he left. He is afraid, he is afraid that he can't stand the repeated detention of students.

He has to leave. No matter how many dreams are recorded here, he will go and find a home in the city.

So he left. He left when the mountains were blooming all over Yuan Ye. In the middle of the night, the sky was full of stars, and he quietly left.

After climbing two mountains, it was dawn. He turned around and looked at this place that gave him too much joy. He seems to see the children's eager eyes again.

However, he must go to town to see his fiancee.

At the moment when he looked back, the sun came out from below the horizon and filled vilen with golden light.

Camellia is in full bloom in the mountains, but he is leaving.

Will you leave me? He prayed silently in his heart that if a student stood up and said, "teacher, don't go, we need you." ? He will stay. However, at this time, there is only one figure accompanying the sun on the January night.

? Teacher, don't go! ? He seems to hear the students say.

? Teacher, don't go! ?

The voice sounded in the mountains. He wondered if he heard it wrong, but the voice was too familiar. It should be apricot.

? Teacher, don't go! ? This is the voice of peaches. He looked back eagerly with tears in his eyes.

Soon after, his beautiful wife came from the city. ? Don't worry, I'm not here to force you. I just want to know the answer. Who's important, me, these students? With tears in her eyes, she seemed to accuse him.

His Adam's apple moved and he couldn't speak. The last sentence is:? Students are very important. They are everything to me. ?

? what about me

? I also give you a choice, stay, go away and never come back?

A few days later, it was the cold war. Finally, she stayed.

That day, it was the most beautiful day for mountain flowers to bloom in the mountains.

Today, a long time later, we still remember that day, the day when camellia bloomed most beautifully. People will never forget it, just as they can't forget the life that died mercilessly at a young age.

When the boat of life sails in the sea, people never know how far and how long it can sail. However, when the boat of life capsizes, countless people will shed affectionate tears for him. I think this kind of capsizing is the most worthwhile.

He left. Finally, he couldn't resist the trick of fate and left forever.

After playing white gauze all day, she packed up and came to school. From then on, this is my home. She stayed. Just like at the beginning, he decided to stay forever.

Later, I recruited another teacher, who was also very young. The first category is night parking near Fengqiao.

? On a frosty night, does Jiang Feng catch fire and sleep? In the silent classroom, there was silence.

It's still spring in March and he's back. He is back, and the grasshopper outside the window is reporting the news of his return.

Touching prose recitation 3: A maple, whether it's the silent spring flowers or the snow covered with boots, I can always think of that green maple at some time. In the light and heat of summer, in the rain and wind of summer, it spreads its branches and leaves heartily, absorbs showers, grows heartily and exudes vitality. Sometimes a bird sings on it, sometimes a breeze blows over its face, and sometimes raindrops are sprinkled on it.

Sometimes, we naughty children will climb on his shoulders.

That is a maple tree planted in the campus. In summer, everything is green. No one knows what it is thinking, no one knows what it wants to do, it just stands in the wind and watches us sing under the tree.

The sky on campus is always quiet and blue, and the blue sky is like a huge piece of glass. How happy that maple tree is when a bird flies in the sky or a white cloud floats by!

It held its head high and let its branches and leaves sing tireless songs in the wind. It held its head high and looked at the clouds and birds flying overhead. Birds are angels on the earth and companions of trees. When this tree is loneliest, birds will fall on it, whisper to it, tell it stories that happened on the horizon, and the secrets of clouds and the sun.

The sound of reading in school is often loud, and the sound of children's reading echoes in school for a long time. I think that tree should be a little dark after listening to our reading sound. If this tree has a soul, it should compose a modern poem with the words it has learned.

What should come will come eventually. For example, it is undoubtedly an event at the entrance to life and death for the maple tree. My family will pull a wire wrapped in fine wire and pass by the maple tree. The wire wrapped in wire is so tightly pulled into its body, but it is still alive. The wire was pulled straight by the locomotive, and when it passed the tree, it was pulled into its body without hesitation. Then, under the drag of the locomotive, it cuts open its skin, its meat and its blood and pulls it into its body.

I've been worried since I was in class. I am afraid it will break and end the glory of my life, but, you know, it is not dead. After class, I took a quick look. I saw the thick wire being pulled deeply into its body, and I seemed to hear it groan in pain.

The strangulation, just under its crown, next to the crown, the wire has been pulled into its body. If it has blood, it should shed thick blood!

I felt sorry for it, but I didn't say it. After many years, I opened the photo album of memory again, and its green image is still vivid. For example, yesterday, I looked at the fuzzy numbers in the photo album, only it was so clear.

After graduating from high school, I finally came to the big city and saw the scenery different from the mountain village. I breathe the air full of copper smell, walking in the busy but seemingly empty streets. All this disharmony will remind me of the maple tree that was pulled into my body by wires.

I miss it, but my maple, you are far away, will you miss me? I miss you like my mother in my hometown, but my maple, have you ever thought of me tenderly on a sunny day?

I suspect that something called responsibility is calling me back to the place where I was born and raised, because my roots are there. There are my maple trees and my folks.

But, can I go back? I can only work hard in the city, in order to survive, for the meager salary. I am as busy as a top, and I can only be like a top, otherwise there is no place to stand.

This is a tree without flowers. It looked at me in the wind, looked at me, and watched how I went upstream to find the meaning of life.

After I got married, I returned to that small mountain village. I saw a long-lost familiar face, but what I longed for most was the maple tree, which was pulled into my body by wires. I stayed on the hillside of the mountain village for the last period. I see a tree with a shade. It lives so smartly and comfortably.

That's a tree in the mountains, that's a tree that has taken root in my heart. It is calling me, calling me, I will come back, I will come back, my maple.

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