Tomb-Sweeping Day's speech.

In daily study, work and life, we often see the figure of composition. Composition is a style composed of words, which expresses a theme through language organization after people's ideological consideration. So have you ever studied composition? The following is my collection of essays on Tomb-Sweeping Day's feelings (generally 10) for reference only. Welcome to reading.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's sentimental essay 1 Tomb-Sweeping Day, it was raining outside, and I looked out the window as if I had set foot on the pure land in my dream.

As beautiful as flowers and jade, as water flies, when it comes to the sad Qingming Festival, it is naturally a bit more sad. The past days have been packed into my long history, rolling eastward and flowing to the deepest part of my heart, pregnant with the dream of the future.

The temperature is still so low. Although it is April, the temperature is still hovering at zero. I walked alone on the road in a thick winter coat. The cherry blossoms and peach blossoms in the rain are so delicate and charming. I picked a flower at random and put it under my nose, smelling the fragrance of the flower, mixed with the faint smell of rain, which was refreshing. The road is full of people wearing long black trench coats who are busy sweeping graves, just like priests written in western novels, adding a heavy breath to the air.

This kind of weather is hard to avoid reminding people of a trace of memories. I remembered that bright summer again. Those people I love vigorously have long been like falling red, stuck in mud or scattered all over the world. At that time, we smiled and said that we would meet again in the future. I didn't expect the turn of that night to become a permanent departure. We have never met or even contacted once. I can only scream in my heart, hoping to get back that time.

Tomb-Sweeping Day, lingering drizzle, sitting alone in front of the window, fine tea leisurely, sighing the whole city, paper-cutting, who will mourn with me? I don't want to be unhappy and helpless all day like Li Qingzhao, but I don't want those dreamers to be happy and carefree. My life is moving slowly in a calm stream, just like this clear rain, falling silently from the air, just looking for some excitement on the way forward.

Stop-and-go, leisurely, this section of the road is finished, and then go to find the next section. On this sad day, coupled with the gloomy weather, I am even more unhappy, just like an old man sighing at the sunset in the sky alone. Those people, on a bright and sad day, silently left my field of vision and walked out of my world. Although I called for a long time, I couldn't call back that distant figure. They were strangers and never came back. Should I pay tribute to you, to your body or to the time we spent together?

After this festival, it will be spring soon. Everything wakes up from a deep sleep and everything becomes full of vitality. Those souls who set foot on Naihe Bridge, the dead bodies who set foot on dead ends, and the undead who drank Meng Po Tang, are you all right? We are praying for those who live and die with us and wish them a better life in another world.

I haven't finished my words, I haven't slept yet, the old things in the world of mortals are connected with wind and rain, and the beautiful dreams are drifting with the tide. What you saw went out, and what you disappeared remembered. The tea is all gone, only the petals on the ground are left. As soon as the wind blows, they are scattered, and there is nothing to miss, only those enthusiastic women are eagerly waiting for their husbands to return.

Qingming, rain, blowing away old dreams, fluttering with the wind, turning around and looking back, the whole city smiled. what can I do? Flowers bloom and fall is another season. Who am I clinging to? I remember who I cut it for Who is my soul broken for?

Tomb-Sweeping Day's Sentimental Essay 2 I only live when the clouds are full of wind and the drizzle is desolate.

I melted the tears of missing in the drizzle and floated back to my hometown Nong 'an.

Thoughts danced in the network of memories, capturing the scene that Tomb-Sweeping Day's father led us to visit his mother's grave that year. It was Tomb-Sweeping Day where my mother died 30 years ago. My sisters all hurried home. Big brother and younger brother said that this year, my father should pay homage to my mother. My eldest brother also said that he would set up a stone tombstone for my mother in the future. Father said I should write an epitaph for my mother. At that time, my heart was in a mess and I didn't know what to write. Wait until I set up a tombstone later, because I think only those celebrities can write epitaphs, because they have a lot of deeds to write.

It was cloudy and rainy in Mao Mao. Dad rode to the county town early in the morning to buy fruit, paper money, cigarettes and incense sticks. When we got to the cemetery, the rain stopped. Maybe God gave us an opportunity to worship our mother calmly.

Father spread a piece of plastic cloth on mother's grave, put the same tribute, pressed the paper on the grave, poured two glasses of wine, lit a cigarette and put it on mother's grave. After lighting the incense, my father turned and said; Your mother loved smoking when she was alive, and she coughed after smoking. I'm afraid her lung disease will get worse, so I won't buy it for her. She is angry. Then he knelt down and we knelt behind our father.

Mom, we're here to see you. My tears fell before my voice. My heart is full of ups and downs, tears streaming down my face.

My father was talking while burning paper money, and he was talking to his mother in the grave. I stopped crying and signaled my sisters not to cry. I held my breath to hear what my father had to say.

My wife, I feel sorry for you. I shouldn't forbid you to smoke, make you angry, quarrel with you, or even leave home to work in other places because of anger. Sometimes you get angry when you can't make money. You couldn't help cursing when I came back. I was particularly angry when you scolded me at that time, but now I want to hear you scold me. '

When my father said this, my tears came down. Although I can't see if my father is crying, I feel his heart is bleeding. I didn't understand the love of my parents until today. Although in my childhood memory, my father didn't go home until the Spring Festival. After returning home, he treated his mother first. My mother is quick-tempered and likes to be true to everything, but my father does almost everything. Mother has emphysema and often coughs in winter, especially in the twelfth month. So my father sent my mother to the hospital for a month before taking her back.

My mother's illness made my father go to the kitchen and cook a table. My father's cooking is not bad, and all the dishes he cooks are delicious. A family of seven people sat together and our children ate in the sea. Father poured a glass of wine and handed it to mother. They drank it.

Dad's cooking is good, and mom's hands are also very skillful. She is good at sewing, especially shoes. My father's new shoes should be nice and fashionable. My aunt in Tunli praised my mother for her good work, and my father was proud of it. My mother sometimes makes a pair of gifts, and the people who give them are especially grateful to her.

Dad asks his mother to make shoes for him every year when he comes back from the Spring Festival. After mother died, my father never wore cloth shoes again. He said that the shoes he sold were not as comfortable as those made by his mother. I know he will think of his mother when he sees the cloth shoes. My mother died before the Spring Festival. The Spring Festival reminds me now, but my father still cooked a table of rice, but while eating, he listened to a picture describing a man who missed his dead wife. At that time, my father was in tears. I know my father is heartbroken.

Today, my father also misses his dead wife like Zhang. Before his father died, he bought the fruit that his mother loved and lit a cigarette. Is it compensation for his mother being in the grave? Is it compensation for his endless complaints that he seldom exchanged words and feelings with his mother in other places in those years?

Unfortunately, these compensations are meaningless. It is too late.

On the way back to pay homage to my mother, my brother mentioned the matter of repairing my mother's grave and erecting a monument, and pulled me back who was still immersed in my mother's memories.

Looking at my old and haggard father, I feel very sad. It's been 30 years since my mother died, and my father is still so reluctant to part with her. He wants to make it up to her From life to feelings, it's a pity that she only comforts her soul. No matter how much he has done now, her mother doesn't know. We are the same. We didn't do our filial piety when our mother was alive. We were all willful and often made our mother angry. Now it's just to build a grave for my mother and block others' sight. Mom left early and wanted to be filial. There is no chance. Now my father is old, but it is never too late to be filial.

Thinking of this, I said to my brother,' Let's give my father the money for repairing my mother's tomb and setting up a monument, so that he can eat and buy whatever he wants. Don't be reluctant to spend as before. From today on, we all have to accept the stepmother that Dad found for us. "

Tomb-Sweeping Day's Sentimental Essay 3 During the Qingming Festival, weeping willows and rain fall. Paper ashes fly into white butterflies, and tears are dyed into red azaleas.

Homesickness and nostalgia all over the mountains are covered with branches of green willows. The cold spring breeze, rustling, rustling, sadly shook off the gray and long-lasting memories; The thin and cool rain, dripping, wrapped in a deep love, lost the footsteps of pedestrians. In a remote place, smelling bitter Ai Xiang, you can't see the prosperity of peach, red apricot and white.

Holding a pious heart, pay homage to the deceased ancestors. A shovel of loess is covered with a layer of grief; Plant a new cluster of branches and a cavity of memory. Tears clear the tomb, and a little old things haunt my heart. In this special season, the bits and pieces of tidbits that used to be intermittent are abrupt and precious, and sad places can actually hurt your heart. Disappointment, sadness, melancholy, all kinds of complicated and colorful fireworks with rising paper.

A pile of Qing tombs, a book, a tombstone and a swan song. How many sad stories are covered by lush grass; There are many touching legends buried in the loess pile. Once owned and abandoned, suddenly gone; Once noble and humble, vanished. The yellow and fragile past was pulled away inch by inch, leaving only a few mottled and illegible handwriting.

Facing the end of life, at this moment, new love and old love are all a little pale, and the desire and lust in the world of mortals are instantly shattered. "Ten-year-old children ... forget it, they will never forget it." A lonely grave thousands of miles away has nowhere to talk. "The boundary of Yin and Yang, separated by ruthless indifference, is extremely cold and painful.

If the sky is affectionate, if it is old, if it is ruthless. Turn your hands into clouds and cover your hands for rain. The whole world, after all, is trapped by love, and naturally you can't hide from where you are going, your emotions.

The boundary between yin and yang, so clearly identifiable, is a natural normal, which cannot be escaped. Time flies gently, time flies gently. There are always some people around, who die quietly inadvertently. Or die of old age, or disease, or suicide, or war. There are thousands of ways to die, all for the same destination. From then on, yin and yang were separated, leaving only those emptiness and sadness. However, the meaning of death is very different. Or, it is heavier than Mount Tai, or it is lighter than a feather, or it is famous in history, or it is notorious.

There is nothing to do, flowers bloom and fall, and it seems familiar that Yan returns. Man will eventually drive the crane westward. However, an idea created by some people and a spirit inherited by some people shine on the whole world, but they dare to compete with the sun and the moon and coexist with the world forever.

Sometimes the flowers bloom, but they fall but can't be seen. Although people can't choose their own life, they can choose different deaths. Choosing the way of death is equivalent to choosing a different life path, and the meaning of life will be given different contents. Maybe I will pay hardships and hardships for this, maybe I will shed my blood for a certain belief. However, a word worthy of this life will be a comforting word for you to face your ancestors before you set foot on Naihe Bridge. Doing one thing will be admired by future generations and worshipped by millions of people.

The dead are gone and can rest in peace. The living will still bear heavy burdens, for themselves and for others. Dust off the red dust, brush away the glitz and illusion, see this complex and colorful world clearly, keep the beauty of the years quietly, and do it with pity.

Qingming, how many people can be Qingming? How many people can understand? Maybe it's clear and comfortable.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's sentimental essay 4 "It rains a lot during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls." As soon as I get to Qingming, the first thing I think of is always the sad scene of pedestrians and lingering spring rain; The sky seems to be conscious. Every time I go to Tomb-Sweeping Day, the light rain will keep falling, as if the eyes of the sky are full of tears in memory of the dead. Although Tomb-Sweeping Day is nominally just a festival to pay homage to the dead and express grief, the significance and value that Qingming brings to our people goes far beyond this.

Castle peak buried loyal bones, and history recorded meritorious deeds. Since primary school, we have known that countless revolutionary martyrs in New China exchanged their blood and lives. Our happy life today is the crystallization of the blood and sacrifice of revolutionary martyrs. Martyrs shed blood for the revolution, which is the most precious spiritual wealth of the Chinese nation. Martyrs sacrifice their precious lives for the benefit of the country and the people, which is the most cherished tradition of the Chinese nation.

Every year, it is still Changchun style to sweep graves to worship ancestors. Offering a bunch of flowers, leaving a message in memory of the revolutionary martyrs and paying homage to the heroic Tomb-Sweeping Day gave us an opportunity to learn from the glorious deeds of the revolutionary martyrs and inherit the revolutionary spirit. Nowadays, as an economical, environmental-friendly, convenient, civilized and harmonious new way of offering sacrifices in Tomb-Sweeping Day, online sacrifice has been sought after by most people, especially young people. I think both the traditional way of offering sacrifices and the emerging online sacrifice are just a form. The key is to baptize our thoughts through this activity, establish correct values and outlook on life, understand the career merits of our ancestors, and sincerely cherish their noble character and good words and deeds, so as to better inherit the career of our ancestors and continue to advance along their footsteps.

The past was created by great martyrs, and the future is in our own hands. Inheriting the hero's mission is our mission. Just like How Steel was Tempered, life is the most precious thing for people. Life is only once for everyone. Therefore, one's life should be spent like this: when one looks back on the past, he will not regret wasting his time, nor will he be ashamed of doing nothing. In this way, when he dies, he can say: I have devoted my life and all my energy to the most precious cause of life-the struggle for the liberation of mankind.

Each of us should establish correct values and outlook on life, inherit the great spirit of our ancestors and martyrs, strive to realize our own values, strive for the greatness and prosperity of our motherland, and realize our Chinese dream.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's Sentimental Essay 5 Inscription: It rains in succession in Qingming Festival, and Wan Li wanders for a long time.

At the beginning of late spring, the grass grows warblers, the stream gurgles down, three or two tender bamboos are cut down, and a group of people embark on the road of feeling with a piece of white meat. Everyone has their own worries and missed beauty, so along the way, it's like having wine today and getting drunk tomorrow.

The grave is covered with grass, and the dilapidated altar has been occupied by moss. So, the grave sweeping began. I still remember when I was very young, I kept thinking, what are the people in this mound now, and will they live again in the future? Naive questions are always in children's minds. You are jumping around. But the fact is that people have gone and will never come back, and a pile of scattered skeletons are buried in the soil. The group is full of thoughts and gratitude, remembering those old friends who are gone forever. Even if they are faced with a pile of skeletons, rather than a living person, they are still so pious and always have awe in their hearts. At the same time, from the stories of the deceased handed down from the predecessors, the younger generation had infinite reverie, which led them to meditate in front of the tomb and made them have the responsibility to tell it to future generations. In this way, future generations, generations, remember those who have passed away. Later generations also have the responsibility and reason to go to the grave to remember. This is the significance of tomb sweeping, remembering ancestors and remembering ancestors. When I miss my ancestors, it also caused a lot of thinking.

Life is alive, but in 1980 s and 1990 s, we have to go through more hardships than we thought. Even a generation of lean Cao Cao sang a song about wine in his "Short Songs", lamenting that life is short and changeable. The ancients also cherished flowing water, which is gone forever. Life is like this running water, rushing down from the source, experiencing anxiety along the way, or being blocked by a stone on the other side of the river, or stranded on the beach, or being drunk by a strange cow. All this can happen. After a long journey, you saw the sea. So you flew out without hesitation, and your life ended here. When you merged into the sea, you were nothing. No one will recognize the clear stream you met by the river in the vast sea, only that the sea is vast and all-encompassing. All the light in your life was given to the sea after your death, and people only saw the sea.

"He melted, naturalized, not happy or sad!" This is what Bing Xin said and what I said for the man who smashed the loess.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's sentimental essay 6 is just over ten years. I died when I was young. On this special day in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I took my children, my wife, a hoe and a bag of fruit bowls, walking on the path of worship, and I couldn't help thinking of many things. Grandpa, who took me to worship my ancestors, is now lying quietly in the depths of this green mountain. When I picked up the hip flask and spilled a cup of yellow wine on the ground under my feet, did he feel that the original teenager was missing his smile, his face and the strange feeling left on my neck by his rough hands?

That year, in fact, many years ago, my grandfather took me to the mountains to find a cobblestone path. At that time, I didn't understand one person's yearning for another. I followed my grandfather because there were birds I liked in the mountains. Listening to the clear cry, I always pick up a small stone and throw it into the distance. With a bang, the whole mountain was lively. With the clear smoke and grandpa's anger, I couldn't help climbing higher with the fastest speed, shouting at the sky, and the echo came and lasted for a long time. ...

I still have an impulse to shout loudly. Unfortunately, I can't. Even if my wife doesn't object, if my children see it, it will be somewhat beneath my father's dignity. What's more, I warned them many days ago that this is a very serious activity. Don't make any noise, otherwise it would be a big mistake to disturb the rest of grandparents.

Actually, I didn't create this warning. My grandfather gave me the same education as early as when I was a teenager. But I was so naughty at that time that I always challenged my grandfather's patience inadvertently. Moreover, every challenge was a great success. I always try every means to play against my grandfather, hoping that one day I can completely get rid of his control, but when my grandfather finally left, I found my existing ideas too sad. Even if he scolds me, I just want my relatives around.

Seeing that I was still in a daze, my wife pulled my sleeve and comforted me: the past has passed. Grandpa left forever, but as long as there is love, no matter how far away, he is always by our side.

A beam of sunshine came from the valley, and the drizzle gradually dispersed, and the sky seemed to clear up at once. Some people on the opposite hill are paying solemn respects. In the sound of firecrackers, they must remember a person, a relationship and an indelible memory, just like me.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's sentimental composition 7 is another year of Qingming, a day to remember the deceased relatives.

Of all the festivals, only Qingming is sad. March and April are the times when everything revives, plants germinate and animals end their long hibernation. The sun is warm and the wind is cold. This weather is the worst. It was warm in the morning, but it changed in the afternoon. There is nothing to say at night. It's windy and cold, so I usually can't stay outside.

I am thinking again, how do grandparents bear the changes of the four seasons in Nanshan? Aren't they cold, hungry and lonely? At that time, my mother always patted me on the head and said, "Don't think too much, son." They will have a good life in another world. "

They have been away from me for nearly eight years. I have changed from a naive child to a sensible girl. I gradually began to forget and walk out of sadness.

Tomb-Sweeping Day in China, in my eyes, is extremely extraordinary. There is no reunion between relatives, no drinking; No laughter and celebration; There is no festive atmosphere ... more crying and silence. Every time I go to the grave, I tell myself not to cry. However, how many times did you hold back? What makes me miss the person I love.

Grandpa likes chrysanthemums very much, and even can't put them down. As long as I can remember, there have been chrysanthemums in grandpa's life. Whether practicing calligraphy or painting Chinese painting, there is infinite enthusiasm for chrysanthemums between the lines. "It is better to hold the incense on the branch and die than to blow it into the north wind." In my opinion, grandpa is like a chrysanthemum, clean, neither supercilious nor supercilious ... he is always so approachable. Grandma is like a lily, emitting a rich fragrance. Like her personality, she is always cheerful. Laughter is constant in life.

Qingming, flowers also entrust the living with the thoughts of the old friends. Look at flowers like people. Every year when sweeping the grave, my family only takes these two kinds of flowers to see my grandparents. I always wipe my tombstone carefully until it is spotless. Then carefully put the flowers in front of the tomb, as if they were inviolable in your arms. Yes, it was originally a flower representing grandparents. It is sacred and noble. How can you promise others to play casually?

Qingming, who said it was a day of tears and peace? Our relatives on the other side of the earth are smiling at us, watching our joys and sorrows, and silently praying for us: we must be safe, happy and happy!

Tomb-Sweeping Day's Sentimental Essay 8 We hurried into April and ushered in the annual Tomb-Sweeping Day. "There are many rains in the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls." The poem of Du Mu, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, fully expresses the poet's heavy mood and our mood at this moment.

Today, every day in Tomb-Sweeping Day, our school organizes all the teachers and students of Grade 4 to visit the Martyrs Cemetery. The sky is gray, there is no wind and no sunshine. We were silent all the way. When we arrived at the gate of the Martyrs Cemetery, we all looked more serious, because the teacher said that the Martyrs Cemetery is a sacred place with many heroes' coffins buried.

As soon as I entered the gate, a stone tablet about 14 meters high came into view, which read the eight characters "People's heroes are immortal". After the solemn grave-sweeping ceremony, the teacher let us visit the cemetery freely and then gather in front of the monument. The students all gave the little white flowers to a three-person group composed of me and two other students, and the three of us paid homage to those heroes on behalf of everyone. Before coming to the tomb of the martyrs, we presented a small white flower in front of each martyrs monument, and we said to the hero in our hearts, rest in peace!

There are many contradictory and tangled feelings in my heart. Think about these heroes and heroines. They dedicated their love to their children and their lives to the construction and development of Ankang. But who remembers their heroic stories? I hope that the children of Ankang will not forget that our happiness today is what they bought with blood and life, so we should cherish it more!

Finally, we found that there were no tombstones on some graves. The cemetery manager told us that these unknown martyrs buried here were all PLA soldiers who died in Ankang in 1983. They were buried in a foreign land and could never return to their hometown where they were born and raised. Thinking of this, we boys burst into tears and couldn't help bowing to these unknown heroes three times to express our admiration and grief. Although their names are not left here, I think they are the greatest people, the closest people and the most respectable people in my heart. They died for our happy life. I will remember him, and I will come to worship them in Tomb-Sweeping Day every year in the future, so that they can be comforted and happy in the spirit of heaven!

It's raining in Mao Mao, and my eyes are full of tears. The sentence "It rains in succession during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls" rings in my ear again, which may be the best interpretation of Tomb-Sweeping Day!

Tomb-Sweeping Day's Sentimental Essay 9 At dawn in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I wandered on the left bank of the river. Bypassing the field full of rape blossoms, the skirt caressed the old fence and took away the only hope left. Children who get up early, barefoot, step on the soft beach, with laughter like a bell, capture the illusion of childhood. Butterflies chase the footsteps of flowers, and the grass is waiting for the care of dew. The mountains in the distance are rendered illusory by fog, adding a unique mystery. The mountains are faintly red and bloom in confusion. The breeze messed up my hair and the microwave rippled in my heart. Standing staring at the stubborn red, my thoughts drifted away involuntarily. Qingming should not be sad. Although the ancestors' bodies have turned into decay, their souls are still chasing the sun. Qingming cannot be negative. Branchlets look up at the sky, buds yearn for trees, and nature is full of vitality. Why don't we work hard?

At noon in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I walk on the right side of the street. The morning mist faded, ushered in the scorching sun, and painted a hazy color on the dreary streets. Sparse people in the street are dragging their tired bodies and minds, looking at the distant road, with blurred emotions in their eyes and trembling step by step. I looked at all this indifferently and couldn't help laughing. People are happy when they are born and sad when they die. Man is a gift from God, and God just takes it back. Why be sad? Stacks of mingbi are piled together, and the wind is blowing alone. The fire swallowed up bit by bit, without any resistance and struggle, and slowly disappeared in the ashes. Whether the dead received it or not, no one will know and no one wants to know. This is just a sustenance of the living. Although I know it in my heart, I still don't believe in self-deception. Maybe. It's okay.

At night in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I stare at the starry sky and fantasize. As night falls, the moon hangs quietly and the stars appear slowly. Grandma once said that if a person disappears from the ground, a star will light up in the sky. I looked at them, and they were like beating flames in the dark, stubbornly shining with a faint light. At first glance, the dense and drooping sky seems to be about to fall. However, the farther you look, the deeper you look. A little light in the dark can always bring a deep peace to people's hearts, which contains immortal vitality and epiphany-like joy. Just like themselves, they stubbornly refuse to put out the light in the endless dark void. So do the dead. Do you have to work hard to shine?

Qingming, my feeling.

Tomb-Sweeping Day's sentimental essay 10 "There are many grave fields in the north and south mountains, and Qingming is different" (Zhu Qingming). All Qingming poems show groups of men, women and children paying homage to their ancestors with pious faces. Tomb-Sweeping Day is also an important festival for agricultural activities in China. An agricultural proverb says: "Qingming is connected with Grain Rain, so don't delay soaking seeds and plowing." . It is also a good opportunity for people to yearn for and study hard all their lives or in a year. I remember when I was fifteen years old in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I copied the poem Qingming by Yu Wang in the Song Dynasty, which inspired me: "No flowers and no wine lead to Qingming, and it is as bleak as a wild monk. Yesterday, the neighbor asked for a new fire, and the window was separated by a desk lamp. " It was my determination when I was young that made me stand up, establish myself, and even achieve something in my old age.

The word Qingming not only refers to a festival, but its literal meaning often reminds people of the Qingming in the world. So Qingming is still the pursuit of an ideal society. Reading history in my spare time will never forget the meson push in the Spring and Autumn Period. He was exiled with Zhong Er, the son of the State of Jin (later Jin Wengong) 19 years. When life is hard, meson pushes a piece of meat from his leg to satisfy his hunger, Zhong Er. Later, Zhong Er acceded to the throne, and meson pushed his mother to live in Mianshan with filial piety, unwilling to receive the reward. Jin Wengong took the wrong measures to burn the mountain, and the meson tuishan was burned. Duke Wen cried and found a bloody poem written by Jiezi in the tree hole on the top of the mountain: May you be clear forever. It is better to be a ghost without regrets than to be an exhorter with you. If your master has me in his heart, remember that I often reflect. I have a clear conscience in Jiuquan, I hope the government will understand clearly! It is said that Jin Wengong, according to Jie Zitui's last words, was diligent and clear, and became the overlord in the Spring and Autumn Period. The "harmonious society" that we are proposing now should be the Qingming that people pursue. A democratic, fair, just, honest, friendly, dynamic, stable and orderly society in which man and nature live in harmony should be a modern interpretation of Qingming.

Staring at the falling rain outside the window, I think of the high-arched green graves in the fields of my hometown, the sudden sound of firecrackers, and the special festival of Qingming, which is full of the noise of life and death. It is the easiest for people to realize the impassability of life and death, the haste of life and the unpredictability of things. We should know how to "treat death as life", learn to break neutrality and live in death. Live every day with an indifferent and sober heart. "The willow trees and green smoke all over the street mark the Qingming March Day". In this endless season of spring, let's take off the fetters of mind and work for a while, bathe in the breeze in April, see the tender color of willows and the new green of streams.