1: "Zhao Jun went out of the village sad and walked all the way. A pear flower soaked her charming face with spring rain, and it was even colder after loneliness. Fate trampled on her flowery dream, but she melted the blood shed by a nation with the face of the whole city and opened the door to peace! " —— Wang Zhaojun
2. Long sword waist, full of whimsy, vertical and horizontal central plains, asking for heaven and earth. Finally, I joined the Guluo River, which aroused the waves of the Three Gorges for a while! —— Qu Yuan
3. Tao Qian picking chrysanthemums leisurely in Taohuayuan; Liu Yuxi, living in a humble abode, enjoys himself; Zhou Dunyi, who is infatuated with Lian; Wei Zhi, an outspoken satirist; Su Wu, who has been herding sheep for nineteen years. They used to live in officialdom, and they were used to swords and shadows, dirty and decadent. "Truth is deeply rooted in people's hearts and loyalty fills the bone marrow" left an immortal echo in the long river of history!
I feel that the echo of history is to write some people or things in history to inspire and educate our future generations! ! ! Thank you scholars. Ok ~ ~ I recommend some materials for you!
Feel the echo of history, that is, write some people or things in history to inspire and educate our descendants, travel all the way and stay away from home; Zhou Dunyi, who is infatuated with Lian; Su Wu, a shepherd 19 year, stirred up the waves of the Three Gorges for a time. Finally, I joined the Guluo River and melted the blood of a nation: a long sword wears the waist!
1, used to being dirty and decadent, once lonely, even more desolate and full of whimsy. Fate trampled on her flowery dream! You should integrate yourself according to specific requirements. They all lived in officialdom, crisscrossing the Central Plains. "The truth is deep in your heart:" It's sad to see Zhao Jun go to the fortress! ; Wei Zhi, an outspoken satirist; Liu Yuxi, who enjoys himself in a humble abode, has opened the door to peace! ! "-Wang Zhaojun
2! —— Qu Yuan
3. "loyalty fills the bone marrow" has left an immortal echo in the long river of history, and I am used to swords and swords. A pear flower soaked her charming face with spring rain, praying for heaven and earth, but she used her beautiful face. Tao Qian picked chrysanthemums leisurely in the Peach Blossom Garden.
2. Echo of history The original echo of the author: There are steps in the empty chaos, and when stepping into the trap woven by countless languages, the blazing flame of flashing power shines. The weak will bent down in the desire to leave, and a little comfort grew on the cold stone from the dull desire this morning. We strode forward with dancing laughter. Every comedian's harvest season is decorated with the darkness and humidity in the celebration. Slowly, we continue to trudge slowly, listening to the voice of fate, constantly knocking on the door of the body and submitting the meaning we promised. The history of your smile also proves that your fragile past is like seeing a child with a dirty puppy passing by the door in silent smoke. Those injured desires are always worried about it and tie you to the elves who have just visited. The soul is tired after escaping from chaos, leaning in the dark, giving you the final wish. Looking up at the fragments of light, its story sometimes seems so irrelevant. The growth of things has another set of mature codes, and they are completely immersed in dark mud or smelly liquid. Today, there are rumors about you in my body, like the blooming earth and flowers dotted with warm spring. Have lost the original pure shy appearance * * * They stood on the flowing river bank, their hands bent on each other's only bones, waiting for the best time to go with the flow. It's noon and dusk, not night. Countless birds flew out of the felt cloth wrapped around them. Pigeons and crows mixed together and walked flat-chested. When there is silence, there is always smoke around them, and their hearts are confused. Everywhere I go, birds are chirping and circling, such as a wound bleeding. Sorrow over the dusty book, the romance in the book is like gloomy weather, and the fatigue of touching the eyes is like a penguin walking slowly through the clean snow in a drunken moment. The voice is hoarse like snowflakes all over the sky, and weak nerves are looking for footprints with residual temperature in the snow, while waiting for darkness to surround and drown in the bird's nest, no matter where your hand once pointed, no matter how futile you sobbed on the bird's body. How many beautiful naked twigs are buried in the energy of the night, swaying with the wind, interpreting the secret customs of darkness, just like songs blown in the wind will be injected into the bricks left over by history. We will still tread our footsteps on the air-dried corpse, tread the sad fragrance woven by countless beautiful words under the lingering clock, and my heart no longer longs for one. He watched Aries on the green grass, eating and walking slowly.
He sat lazily on the edge of the dark forest. The breeze stirred the rain on the tree and dripped coldly on his head.
He sang in a low voice to the * * * around the neck of the sheep. He took a piccolo and whistled with the gurgling sound of running water.
He sang, blew and thought for a long time; He sighed slightly; His tears flowed silently. Second, should it be as sweet as a kiss? Should there be a kiss as sweet as honey? what's up ..... where? ..... "The sea there", countless waves, vertical, horizontal, paved, stacked, turned and rolled, ... I am in this wave, and where is she? ..... Seems to see her, rosy lips, snow-white body, ... Just eyes too dull, didn't see her face, she is bathed in tears of shame, quietly buried in the dark forest! I really can't see through you, I really have seen through you! I don't want you to say anything to me in the strong wind; I am also weak, I can't hook the crocodile's cheek, I can't wear the crocodile's nose, I can't let it beg me, I can't let it flatter me; I just asked, where is she? "there?" That's what the echo said
Alas! Who are you staring at in the stream? Boring grass, how can you make clothes for graves year after year? Why don't you go? -Live! -Live? -Let's go! -here is an old grave, and here are the bones of the dead; There is a new grave, and below is the dead who will become bones. You! -What about you? "What's the matter with you?" -the answer is this.
Flowing quietly; He sighed slightly; He thought about it leisurely; He is still playing and singing: he is still holding a piccolo and responding to the flowing water; He also sang to the * * * around the sheep's neck. The breeze stirred the rain on the tree and dripped coldly on his head; He still sits idly on the edge of this dark forest.
He is still full of desire, watching Aries eating on the lazy green grass and walking slowly.
3. Echo of history Original Echo Author: There are steps in the empty chaos, and the blazing flame of flashing power shines when stepping into the trap woven by countless languages. The weak will bent down in the desire to leave, and a little comfort grew on the cold stone from the dull desire this morning. We strode forward with dancing laughter. Every comedian's harvest season is decorated with darkness, numbness and humidity in celebration. We keep trudging slowly, listening to the voice of fate, knocking on the door of the body, and constantly submitting the meaning we promised. The history of your smile also proves that your fragile past is like seeing a child with a dirty puppy passing by the door in silent smoke, and those injured desires are always worried about it, tying you to both ends of just visiting. The soul is tired after escaping from chaos, leaning in the dark, giving you the final wish. Looking up at the fragments of light, its story sometimes seems so irrelevant. The growth of things has another set of mature codes, and they are completely immersed in dark mud or smelly liquid. Today, there are stories about you in my body, like the earth blooming and flowers dotted with warm spring. Words have lost their original innocence and shyness. They stood on the flowing river bank, their hands bent on each other's only bones, waiting for the best opportunity to go with the flow. It's noon and dusk, not night. Countless birds flew out of the felt cloth wrapped around them. Pigeons and crows mixed together and walked flat-chested. When there is silence, there is always smoke around them, and their hearts are confused. Everywhere I go, birds are chirping and circling, such as a wound bleeding. Sorrow over the dusty book, the romance in the book is like gloomy weather, and the fatigue of touching the eyes is like a penguin walking slowly through the clean snow in a drunken moment. The voice is hoarse like snowflakes all over the sky, and weak nerves are looking for footprints with residual temperature in the snow, while waiting for darkness to surround and drown in the bird's nest, no matter where your hand once pointed, no matter how futile you sobbed on the bird's body. How many beautiful naked twigs are buried in the energy of the night, swaying with the wind, interpreting the secret customs of darkness, just like songs blown in the wind will be injected into the bricks left over by history. We will still tread our footsteps on the air-dried corpse, tread the sad fragrance woven by countless beautiful words under the lingering clock, and my heart no longer longs for one. He watched Aries on the green grass, eating and walking slowly.
He sat lazily on the edge of the dark forest. The breeze stirred the rain on the tree and dripped coldly on his head.
He sang in a low voice to the * * * around the neck of the sheep. He took a piccolo and whistled with the gurgling sound of running water.
He sang, blew and thought for a long time; He sighed slightly; His tears flowed silently. Second, should it be as sweet as a kiss? Should there be a kiss as sweet as honey? what's up ..... where? ..... "The sea there", countless waves, vertical, horizontal, paved, stacked, turned and rolled, ... I am in this wave, and where is she? ..... Seems to see her, rosy lips, snow-white body, ... Just eyes too dull, didn't see her face, she is bathed in tears of shame, quietly buried in the dark forest! I really can't see through you, I really have seen through you! I don't want you to say anything to me in the strong wind; I am also weak, I can't hook the crocodile's cheek, I can't wear the crocodile's nose, I can't let it beg me, I can't let it flatter me; I just asked, where is she? "there?" That's what the echo said
Alas! Who are you staring at in the stream? Boring grass, how can you make clothes for graves year after year? Why don't you go? -Live! -Live? -Let's go! -here is an old grave, and here are the bones of the dead; There is a new grave, and below is the dead who will become bones. You! -What about you? "What's the matter with you?" -the answer is this.
Flowing quietly; He sighed slightly; He thought about it leisurely; He is still playing and singing: he is still holding a piccolo and responding to the flowing water; He also sang to the * * * around the sheep's neck. The breeze stirred the rain on the tree and dripped coldly on his head; He still sits idly on the edge of this dark forest.
He is still full of desire, watching Aries eating on the lazy green grass and walking slowly.
4. Listen to the echo of history-after reading World History, I feel that books are the nest of spirit and the Zen bed of life. This is a sentence that I said, and it is also a portrayal of my heart.
Is the book an ellipsis to shorten the time, a comma to shorten the region, or an endless semicolon? In short, this book will be my best friend in my life. Take a bird's eye view of the history of ancient and modern China and foreign countries and study the value of history carefully. You will find that different people look at history from different angles. Shallow people will think that history is just a fairy tale book suitable for all ages. People with a little knowledge will think that history is a "Sikuquanshu"; But I think history is a bottle of champagne, a colorful piece of cheese, and it is my mentor.
Throughout the historical time and space, the political storm in Italy made me understand the cruelty of politics; The Middle East War taught me about this world of conflicts of interest. "Barbarossa" German Blitzkrieg made me firmly remember the principle of preemptive strike. Yes, history is a mirror left by our predecessors, and it is a critical letter given to us by our predecessors.
You see, which famous emperors in history were not good at listening to the opinions of ministers before they succeeded. Like Tang Zongsong Zu, a generation of Tianjiao Genghis Khan, and Hanwu Emperor and so on.
On the contrary, tyrants who go their own way, such as Zhou Wang, will be scolded forever. Therefore, while reading history, we should not simply pay attention to the plot, but carefully ponder the reasons and laws of the rise and fall of an event and a dynasty.
Avoid the recurrence of historical tragedies on us. Among the many historical stories I have read, please allow me to extract a fragment that I have a special liking for.
The name of this clip is "The Disaster of the Jewish Kingdom". In 722 BC, the Assyrian emperor Zhang set foot on the land of Israel. They occupied the city of Samaria and Israel was destroyed for the first time.
In 583 BC, Nebuchadnezzar II's army surrounded Jerusalem again, and the Jewish resistance did not work. Three years later, the Jewish nation was wiped out for the second time, and the Babylonian army bloodbath Jerusalem, and all prisoners of war were transported back to China together, known as "Babylonian prisoners" in history. Nevertheless, the Jewish people who have suffered a lot have not lost heart. With the efforts of one Jew after another, they finally realized their dream of rejuvenating the country.
This story seems short, but the inspiration he gave me is like that spring water, which can't stay. Whenever I feel depressed or want to give up, I always hint to myself that Jews can get out of such a difficult situation by not giving up. What's my situation? So after reading this historical story, I have always maintained an optimistic and enterprising attitude.
History, the temple of ancient civilization; History is the echo of the ends of the earth. Let's read, study and appreciate history together! 2002 1 month 1 day, Chen Yue, the six-year class of Liyuan Primary School.
5. The composition about "Walking in the Echo of History" comes in spring every year, and flowers bloom and fall every season. By the river of youth, I persistently searched for Zeus in my dream. Every time I look back, they are like bright stars, illuminating my eyes.
Yellow sand is flying all over the sky, and the afterglow of the sunset is full of deserted ancient roads. Wang Zhaojun embraced the pipa and walked out of the high wall of the palace with firm steps. Abandoned her parents' motherland and the tranquility of fallen leaves. "She walked out of the Purple Palace and walked into the desert. Now she is a green grave in the yellow dusk?" .
She blocked the Huns' hordes with her thin body and got the peace of the Han people. Only Yan Zhen knows how a hair turns into white hair and a green grave. She is so upright, has an extraordinary mind and temperament, and is indomitable and fearless in order to rejuvenate the country and make the country safe.
You once galloped on the battlefield, "Ma Ling road is fast, and the bow is like a thunderbolt." With the enthusiasm of "ending the king's world and striving for fame before death", you recruited troops, fought against the Jin people, recovered lost ground and arrested traitors among thousands of people. However, what I got was the ups and downs of the official sea, the exhibition, and the repeated impeachment to live at home. I dare not forget to worry about my country. Night after night, I sat in my clothes, and Xin Qiji's "Ten Theories" resisted gold and "Nine Theories" were in love. Unfortunately, these suggestions have not been adopted, poor white hair and early birth. It' s really "the name of a hundred battles general is cracked, and the elegy is not finished, so the old man is long." Love your family and be firm to death.
Since marrying Zhao, everyone expects Li Qingzhao to be a good wife, but she is versatile, but she can't be an actress. With the change of the world, far away from the torment of war, Yi An is looking for his own happiness, but he is always suppressed by the dark reality. It is not only the pain of emotional life, but also the anxiety about the country and the nation, which pushes her to the deep sea of suffering. She is like a lonely boat, swaying helplessly in the wind and waves. Born in troubled times, but not a Xianglinsao-style figure in Lu Xun's works; It wasn't Du Shiniang who was killed. She used the sky full of melancholy, spun silk to peel the cocoon and wrote many words as treasures. "Life is a hero, and death is a ghost." I still think of Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong. "What a weak woman, there are thousands of lofty sentiments in her chest; What a female husband, pretending to be safe at home and abroad.
They either went to the national disaster and married in the desert, or galloped on the battlefield, and the old horses crouched, or people spoke lightly, but they were worried about the country and the people. Time has passed for thousands of years, and it will not dim their brilliance, but will wash brighter, just like the twinkling stars in the night sky, always shining on our spiritual home, baking every wet heart and illuminating every dark corner.