Winter prose

Winter is beautiful. Although it is the cold season when flowers are withering, plum blossoms still smile to people. The clusters of flowers sway in the cold wind, exuding a refreshing fragrance. Let’s take a look at the prose about winter. Welcome to read and learn from it. Essay about winter:

Lying in the quiet and peaceful arms of winter, stepping on the first soft silver blanket in the morning, rubbing the body skin with the cold air, it feels particularly refreshing. This feeling of emptiness narrows the distance between the mountains and the busy city. The earth is so calm and peaceful, showing no trace of panic. It is quiet and elegant, with a graceful appearance, gentle and clean...

The feet are slow, lying in the open space and silence, the mind is refreshed, the heart is free from vulgarity, and there is a kind of joy that makes you want to travel a thousand miles without feeling heavy. Let your thoughts float with the air, and the charm is faint, in the solemn and thick winter clothes. Stretch your thoughts to your heart's content, steaming and soft, searching for thousands of branches and thousands of leaves, in an uproar, Ding Ling...

Where are the string of ellipsis left by the geese flying across the Yangtze River? It turns out that it stretches in a field of plains flying all over the sky. In the snow, and then walked into the solid winter palace, with an eternal and solemn expression, everything was peaceful and silent.

Listen to the morning wind, it fell asleep, still hiding in the collar of the night and sleeping soundly. , those naughty birds caught the first light of dawn, and the earth opened its hazy eyelashes, waking up a peaceful morning, and everything slowly faded away...

Where are those angelic spirits? , shaking off the thick feathers that are proportional to the temperature, swooping lightly, squatting on the bleak branches, licking the crystal dew like cotton...

I must be tired of the season, dormant. Everything is silent and quiet, curled up into a lazy and silent posture, breathing evenly, for fear that the slightest movement will twist the waist. The wind still spreads slowly in the winter morning, testing the earth's half-sleep state, teasing A few messy broken hairs picked up, hurting the stubborn dead leaves on the branches, and they fell.

The Ling Maple on the ground supported the last gracefulness, dripping with dampness and cold. The fragrant face is a bit haggard, but the pomelo yellow and vermilion clothes can't be taken off. They are embedded in the earth's broad chest. The excess is the most beautiful bookmark in the middle of winter, faintly gurgling, singing the most sad and solemn evening song in life.

Those willows, that green patch of green, looking around, wearing a cold shirt, standing proudly by the wilderness trail, still guarding the cold weather that changes day and night, silently and tenaciously holding on to the gift given by God. Mission, Tianran dresses up the twilight and desolate years, accompanying all things in this land that are playing and vicissitudes of life.

There are always some unique graces that are gorgeous and colorful. As for the jade soul and ice soul, it dances in the cold corridor, with plain sleeves lightly curled, scattering thousands of velvet flowers. Fairy grace, like goose down and warm fur, gently wraps around the neck of every cluster of cold people, covering the naked desolation. The fur is inlaid on the collar, sleeves and wrists of the pine and cypress green clothes, showing a luxurious appearance.

But in Jiangnan, there is no silence because of something extra. The thoughts that cannot be crystallized still shake the sadness in the eyes, and in a quiet night with no one, it falls from the eyes and hits the heart. The temples of the night were wet, and at the same time, a long string of past events was awakened.

In the dream, the boat rippling among the blue leaves and green waves gradually became a little more desolate, thinking about the March Willow. The curtain is warm and green, the boat's oar is slowly swaying, and the curtain of sorrow is opened with tender eyes, turning around in the prosperous place of the season, and occasionally looking back.

From fresh green to dark green, the south of the Yangtze River has never been quiet, swaying with the eternal blue color, and the everlasting mist. It is withdrawn from the rough desolation in the north, and is euphemistic and graceful, under the arch bridge. In the center of the tree is a graceful graceful graceful tree, holding up colorful umbrella flowers in the alleys and alleys, spinning out a gentle and graceful beauty in the slightly cold breath...

Unknowingly, I have walked a long way. , my thoughts can't help but fly. Who said winter is not graceful enough? Look at its condensation and gentleness, listen to its silent whispers, be alone in the hustle and bustle, be quiet and serene, and feel happy in the deepest part of the season. Crystallizing the most beautiful six-sided petals, carving beautiful branches and carving jade trees, using the deepest thickness to embrace the vicissitudes of all things, caressing the past, accumulating the reincarnation and singing again at the beginning of life, calmly going to the evening, pure and simple... Essays about winter 2:

Since ancient times, autumn has been a symbol of sadness, an expression of decline, and a barometer of the melancholy of life. Qu Yuan said, "The autumn wind is blowing, and the waves in the Dongting are under the leaves of the trees." Song Yu said, "What a tragedy, autumn is the air! The bleak grass and trees are falling and decaying." Cao Pi also has the same poem in "Yan Ge Xing" "Autumn Wind" The weather is bleak and cool, and the grass and trees are shaking and turning to frost.” The desolate trees and fallen leaves in nature are the first thing that catches people's eyes. The objects in nature give people a sense of spiritual excitement. The four seasons of the universe are naturally associated with the four seasons of life. "The mountain monk can't count the sixty-year-old, and one leaf falls and he knows." Autumn is all over the world. "Autumn leaves fall, reaching objects and people, and sadness comes from it. Just as Lu Ji's "Wen Fu" said, "Sadness comes from fallen leaves in the strong autumn, and joy comes from the soft spring." The withering and prosperity of things triggers the sadness and joy in the heart.

Sorrow is the autumn of the heart. For example, Li Bai said: "The crowds are cold and the oranges are orange, and the autumn colors are old sycamores." Jia Dao: "The autumn wind blows on the Weishui River, and the fallen leaves are all over Chang'an." Liu Yong: "The place is red and green, and everything is in bloom." Li Shangyin: "The autumn clouds do not disperse and the frost flies late. , The withered lotuses are left to listen to the sound of rain. "Meng Haoran "The autumn scenery is far away, and the cold mountains are everywhere." Yuan Sadu has five unique clouds: "The autumn wind blows the white waves, and the autumn rain ripples across the lake, and the passers-by feel the autumn.

Ma Daigen, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, pushed this melancholy to the extreme, "The trees in a foreign country have fallen leaves, and I am alone at night under the cold lamp." "While traveling in a foreign country, I suddenly saw the fallen leaves falling, the autumn air blowing, sitting alone with a lone lamp, and I felt a sudden emotion. Even a young man has grown old. The empty garden is white with dew, and the lonely monk is alone. It is an extremely cold and lonely place. The vicissitudes of life are so extreme that I can't stop talking. . Du Zimei's "Ascend the High" "Wanli is always a guest in the sad autumn, and he has been sick for a hundred years and only appears on the stage. "The poet has been away all year round, and suddenly when autumn leaves fall, he thinks of the suffering of his life, the sick season, and the lost life. He is filled with melancholy, thousands of miles and hundreds of years, boundless space and misty time, hardship, bitterness, and hatred. His "Eight Poems of Autumn Excitement" were written in the first year of Dali (AD 766) when he was living in Kuizhou. His life experience was uncertain and he was living in a homeless place. The frustration of not being able to help, the sorrow of the country and the family are integrated with the desolation and desolation of autumn. The desolation and solemnity, the vast melancholy, overwhelming the mountains and seas, the changing winds and clouds, the turmoil, just like "the waves in the river and the sky surge, blocking the wind and clouds and grounding the shadows." "At a time when "it is not famous to write articles, and officials should retire due to old age and illness", the poet has no way to fulfill his ambitions and can only swim on the rivers and lakes. When he experienced the suffering of the bottom, he gained a spiritual return, "Where is the fluttering? It is like a gull in the sky and the earth.

Autumn is a portrayal of the artistic conception, cold, bleak, lonely, sad and simple. It is the realm where the prosperity of life has disappeared and the true nature is seen. It is the desolation that artists strive for. "The sound of springs in thousands of valleys is gone, and the wild geese are approaching in rows of autumn colors. "The autumn sky is brighter than the spring sky, and the frosty sky is still and lonely for thousands of miles." "Wang Bo's artistic conception is more open, "The setting clouds and solitary swans fly together, the autumn water and the long sky are the same color. Li Bai is famous for his boldness and boldness, "The wind sends autumn geese thousands of miles away, and you can enjoy this high-rise building." "Su Shi, a great talent, had a state of mind that grew old with the world. His writings include the colorful autumn of five colors. "You must remember the good times of the year, the best ones are orange, orange, and green. "There is also the pain of recalling the past like smoke. "People come with letters like autumn leaves, and things leave no trace like spring dreams. "There is also a sigh that life is like a dream and cannot be looked back on. "The world is like a big dream, and life has several cool autumns. Linbu of the Song Dynasty visualized the scene of autumn, "Sometimes a solitary bird flies in the autumn scene, and cold smoke rises from the sunset without incident." Liu Yong, who was sentimental and affectionate, put aside his shallow chanting at this moment and sang the bold song "To the Xiaoxiao dusk rain sprinkles on the river and the sky, washing the autumn." For Liu Zongyuan of the Tang Dynasty, he fished alone on the Hanjiang River, "Thousands of mountains and birds fly away." , thousands of people disappeared. A man with a coir raincoat in a lone boat, fishing alone in the snow in the cold river. Wang Shizhen, a native of the Qing Dynasty, fished for Qiuyi alone in the river, "a coir, a straw hat, a small boat, a foot of silk fiber and an inch of hook." A song and a bottle of wine, one person fishing alone in the river. "The poet is independent and aloof from the world, and his environment is unparalleled and ancient. The world always likes the prosperity of spring and rejects the ruthlessness and loneliness of autumn. However, autumn is a season that people cannot avoid, no matter what the season is. Autumn is still the autumn of life. Only with experience, suffering and vicissitudes can we have the maturity and harvest of autumn, and only then can we have the aging state of art. Many literati and poets in history sang a loud and clear hymn of autumn: Liu Yuxiyou. Two poems from "Autumn Poems": Since ancient times, autumn has been a sad and lonely time. I say that autumn is better than spring.