Song of the stream
After a long winter, everything in the forest finally smells the breath of spring. Unbound the bondage of a winter, Xiaoxi still loves singing so much, but at first it was a little uncomfortable, and its voice was low, but it was still very crisp, "Ding, Dong, Dong". When it remembered the tune it used to sing, it was very excited and ran around singing to the sleeping forest, and the forest was suddenly filled with its cheerful and beautiful songs.
The song of the brook is the song of life, which awakens everything.
symphony of insects
In summer, the sun is getting more and more poisonous. The cicada, which is usually silent because of the heat, screamed desperately in the tree. At night, the heat has dissipated a lot, but it is still screaming at the top of its lungs. Why on earth is this? Because it wants to play a symphony with other insects in the forest: cicada is a drummer, and cricket is a violinist ... Their music is very beautiful, and even the always active stream has quieted down and become a piano player. I don't know if it is to welcome their music, and the trees in the forest are more and more lush.
The insect symphony is a growing song, which urges everything to grow rapidly.
Song of Winter Snow
The weather is getting colder, and even the sun can't wait to get home early. Winter snow is coming. First, it is a small snowflake, which floats gracefully with the wind. As soon as it falls, it blends with the stream and the land. But slowly, the snowflake got bigger, and the goose feather-like snow fell one by one and landed on the grass, becoming a thin blanket. The stream can't stand the cold, and it gradually can't walk. At this time, Dongxue sang and danced with the north wind. After singing and dancing, it fell wearily on mountains, trees and houses ... forming a thick blanket of sheep. Everything is very obedient and has fallen asleep, waiting for the new students in the coming year.
......
The songs of the brook, the symphony of the worm and the songs of the winter snow are all songs from the depths of nature, expressing nature's love and blessing for all things.
I heard it, and you? Song composition in the deep heart 2
Is there a song whose melody is sad and always pulled by loneliness and amplified by melancholy? Is there a song that has the most beautiful beat, and its notes knock out soft depressions in the heart; Is there a song that doesn't have a beautiful tone, but sprouts a small bud in memory?
A violin named Lonely was pulled by melancholy, and wrote a tune called Sadness in the helpless sky. In the dark world, I heard its solo, and the ups and downs touched the pain in my heart. A string, directed by a sad melody, divides a dream. Dreams are fragmented, sharp fragments pierce my heart, and red blood flows freely, rendering the most beautiful picture for this song. My heart beats faster, my breath is short, and I suffocate helplessly.
The melodious notes are beating on the black and white keys, and the rhythm has been memorized. It is a handy and eternal beat. A joy invades the bone marrow and drives my heart to beat together. I can keep up with this beat by reaching out my hand. I happily forget the pain when I clap my hands. My numb palm is slightly red, like my face, and it blooms with the warmth that has solidified for a long time.
In the old photos in my memory, someone will be wearing a white shirt and playing a worn-out guitar. The traces of youth are so beautiful. Once I sang a song, I forgot the melody for a long time, and then I sang it. Even though the years have passed, it is still wonderful. Even the air has a rebellious atmosphere at that time. Hearing, which has been sleeping for a long time, wakes up at this moment to pay homage to our past.
There are too many beautiful melodies in the deepest corner of the soul, which we never forget. Song composition in the deep heart 3
One person, one song, one world.
Walking in the empty street, the lazy pace raises the weak dust, with empty hands, and the favorite melody is played in the ear meeting. Just like this, step by step, over and over again, continued ... Those eyes that always thought they could see the world could not see any light, just like thousands of eyes, they were empty and confused ... A door, a lock and a bunch of keys.
The light of spring reflects two delicate flowers, which bloom shyly and meet the coolness of fingertips. Take off the earphone, pass your hands over the newly put petals, and the wet touch spreads to the atrium. I began to pay attention to it, for no reason, but I was touched by something that was the weakest place, and I didn't even have time to stop and think back. "Swallow, wearing flowery clothes, comes here every spring ..." Attracted by the sound of babbling, she looked for it. In the middle of the flower bed, a delicate little girl hangs down the little flower beside her, smiling like a flower, shy flower, pink cheek and two pigtails on her head. Innocently dancing among the flowers, looking up at the sky, the sun fell little by little. Cheering and jumping, she only cares about the brilliance of that moment. My lips are slightly raised, just like a light that clears the clouds. On the snow-capped mountains that have been frozen for thousands of years, a corner actually melts. Stop and admire, like a glass ball that has been picked up again. With the precipitation in the depths of your heart, you can piece together the crystal, hold it in your hand, be extremely careful, and be afraid of falling down again. It will be bloody despair.
In the bright sunshine, eyes follow her steps, intoxicated and forgotten ... The bouncing figure outlines the picture imprisoned in the bottom of my heart and collides with the song buried in the depths of my heart: colored notes woven with simplicity, plainness and childlike innocence, without lyrics, because it is naive, free and unconstrained, and will not be fixed on a certain page, an article, and another. My own story, not continued, is updated in seconds. What stops is the aftertaste of beauty, and what is eliminated is the bitter doubt.
for a long time, I immersed myself and ran like a straw to save my soul and call my soul. Suddenly, I was pulled by something, and I fell with a smile that had been blooming for a long time. It's already dusk, and all this is the yesterday that the sand between the fingers has slipped through and can't be pieced back, so we can only let it go. On that track, my childhood and I have run counter to each other, and I can only put away the remaining memories and keep them in the green space in the deepest part of my heart-fragrant, clean, and the songs that can't be collected, echoing! Song composition in the deep heart 4
Autumn's words are like a song, which lingers for three days. -Inscription
In early autumn, the night was as cool as water ...
It got dark a little early, and misty clouds floated by like veils. A bright moon, like a flower with empty branches, is bright and bright, and the whole picture is tender as water. Accidentally. The painter sketched the moon a little incomplete. A twinkling star is like a bud embroidered on a black screen, and it is like a pair of flashing eyes, blinking, vivid and lovely. In this situation, I like to sit alone in a corner not far away, quietly watching the flowers bloom, enjoying the movement with quietness, changing the movement into quietness, and washing out the beauty in my heart. Osmanthus absorbs the moonlight and releases the heat of the sun. Flowers are in bud, walking in the court, enjoying this beautiful artistic conception before and after the flowers.
Mid-Autumn Festival is beautiful ...
In the morning, a ray of setting sun refracts into every gap. In the corner, there is a cluster of crape myrtle, lonely and desolate, but it is fragrant. The second hand moves a little in the glass frame. A breeze swept by, crape myrtle swaying. My mood is gradually sinking, I am haunted by trivial matters, and I am uneasy. I don't know when that flowering process was passed by me, but it denied the sadness and bloomed a new life. The night is fading, and the clouds are faintly swaying, like dreams and illusions. The full moon is like a jade plate, shining brilliantly. The bright moon is reflected in the pool. Ripples in circles, and the trickle is melodious and melodious. The stars are scattered and scattered, and the moon leans against the clouds, like a moon with clear tears. The stars in the long night are quiet, and the moon and jade building are thin.
In late autumn, the clouds disperse ...
At the beginning of Chinese lanterns, the city is noisy, and neon lights emit colorful light. There is no moon tonight, lonely, lonely and cold, and it is getting cold. Flowers are falling all over the ground, waiting to be reborn in the coming year. Yesterday's bright life is tragic tonight. A day of obscurity, peace and drowsiness. One day passed with a sigh, and the sunset disappeared on the horizon, like a splash of rendered ink painting. Stepping on the dead leaves, I wrote a poem. Overlapping and scattered. Pull the clouds away ...
Write a sad song in the words of autumn. The reverberation is lingering around the beam, and it lasts for three days ...
Once the beauty reaches its acme, it becomes desolate ...
With the words of autumn, I wrote a sad song for that period of Shenghua's childhood, which went deep into my heart. The clouds dispersed, with philosophy, a person walking in the street, to dream.
The elegy of autumn, sung into the depths of the soul, dispersed the clouds, and the clouds opened their minds. Song composition 5
I have always paid little attention to beautiful things, not indifference, but something too heavy in my life, which made me unable to stop, and my eyes accumulated too much dust, and gradually lost my ability to moisten. And you, like the brightness in indifferent faces, let indifference take off the disguise.
In summer, at night, the scenery along the Yangtze River, the wind with a fishy smell passes in front of me from time to time. I just finished the composition contest, and I may be out of my mind. At this time, my mood is gloomy, and the moon is walking with me on my way home. I can't help but speed up my steps. At this time, your song with bright, helpless and sandy texture reached my ear, which was sad but extremely sad. Probably this tune aroused my thoughts. I groped for the source of the song, through the thick crowd, and finally met you, a pair of bright and deep eyes, with a beautiful arc at the corner of your mouth from time to time, and your hair was messed up by Jiang Feng, but you just kept playing the wooden guitar with both hands, waiting for the wind to smooth it again, but!
But you are in a wheelchair. You are a disabled person! You seem to have seen my surprised eyes, tilted your head, and a few bits and pieces of money were scattered at your feet. I was very moved, even sympathetic, so I just put a few dollars in my pocket at your feet, but you stopped me. "You can be a singer!" You looked at me firmly, and there was a flame burning in those clear and bright eyes, burning like a nirvana phoenix. I was shocked, and I retracted my outstretched hand, and I felt extremely ashamed. People can be poor, but their souls must be noble. So I sat down to listen to your singing, and you seemed to find an audience, and you sang harder, regardless of the ridicule of people around you or whether people paid attention to you. Then, you smiled.
I thought a lot on the way home. What did this noble soul singer show me? Is it hope? Is it sunshine? It's still his brightness. Looking at the arrogant women, indifferent men, silent old people and naive children in the car, I find that we always keep spinning until we form a thick pupa, and we don't let others in or let ourselves out. And you, illuminating me with your light, I think today is the time for me to change. Now, although I don't remember your voice and appearance for a long time, your singing, the kind of singing that comes from the depths of my heart with life music, will surround my ear forever. Like light, it will not only illuminate me, but also illuminate people around me. A song in my heart composition 6
There is a song in my heart, which is a hymn for my parents.
When I was six years old, on the first day of school, my mother told me the story of The Kitty Hawk and the Chicken. She told me: "The eagle can hit the sky because he has great ideals and wants to fly to the sun." But the chicken was afraid of catching cold in the wind and didn't dare to walk out of the nest. In the end, it could only fly on the low wall. " This makes me understand that a person must have lofty ideals and not be afraid of setbacks. Only when he grows up can he make many contributions to our great motherland!
When I am discouraged because of my unsatisfactory exam results, my father will say to me in a friendly tone, "Good boy, don't be discouraged, failure is the mother of success! Besides, one exam is not ideal, which does not mean that the next exam is not ideal. People must have backbone and tenacious perseverance and can withstand setbacks. " Dad's words cheered me up and I believed I could do well in every exam.
when I am proud of my achievements, my parents will seriously say to me, "As soon as I have made achievements, I put my tail up in the sky. Is that ok?" Don't you know that' there are days outside, there are people outside'? " A short instruction made me know that modesty makes people progress and pride makes people lag behind. Isn't this the opposite of modesty, which means that bamboo has bowed its head and plum has no flowers on its back?
For the growth of this young eagle, my parents gave me the noblest and most selfless love.
I am a young eagle that has not yet taken off. I will shake my spirits, fly out of the mountain to the sun, and sing songs in my heart, dedicated to my parents who care and caress me! 7
I have always paid little attention to beautiful things, not indifference, but something too heavy in my life, which made me unable to stop, and my eyes accumulated too much dust, and gradually lost my ability to moisten. And you, like the brightness in indifferent faces, let indifference take off the disguise.
In summer, at night, the scenery along the Yangtze River, the wind with a fishy smell passes in front of me from time to time. I just finished the composition contest, and I may be out of my mind. At this time, my mood is gloomy, and the moon is walking with me on my way home. I can't help but speed up my steps. At this time, your song with bright, helpless and sandy texture reached my ear, which was sad but extremely sad. Probably this tune aroused my thoughts. I groped for the source of the song, through the thick crowd, and finally met you, a pair of bright and deep eyes, with a beautiful arc at the corner of your mouth from time to time, and your hair was messed up by Jiang Feng, but you just kept playing the wooden guitar with both hands, waiting for the wind to smooth it again, but! But you are in a wheelchair, you are a disabled person! You seem to have seen my surprised eyes, tilted your head, and a few bits and pieces of money were scattered at your feet. I was very moved, even sympathetic, so I just put a few dollars in my pocket at your feet, but you stopped me. "You can be a singer!" You looked at me firmly, and there was a flame burning in those clear and bright eyes, burning like a nirvana phoenix. I was shocked, and I retracted my outstretched hand, and I felt extremely ashamed. People can be poor, but their souls must be noble. So I sat down to listen to your singing, and you seemed to find an audience, and you sang harder, regardless of the ridicule of people around you or whether people paid attention to you. Then, you smiled.
I thought a lot on the way home. What did this noble soul singer show me? Is it hope? Is it sunshine? It's still his brightness. Looking at the arrogant women, indifferent men, silent old people and naive children in the car, I find that we always keep spinning until we form a thick pupa, and we don't let others in or let ourselves out. And you, illuminating me with your light, I think today is the time for me to change.
Now, although I don't remember your voice and appearance for a long time, your singing is so practical.