Poor vocabulary and empty content are common problems in college entrance examination compositions. This material provides celebrity examples, beautiful poems and philosophical fragments, which can be used as language material.
First, the classical character sketch
3, Du Fu (Author: long sleeves in the wind)
He was exiled all his life, exiled by life and chased by suffering. Before he could catch the last ray of sunshine in the prosperous Tang Dynasty, he was blown to the river bank rustling in the treetops by the chaotic autumn wind.
The emperor and Miyagi have gradually drifted away when they are sideways. Ten years of guest residence, together with the late peony, have been diluted by the rain of the years. When the people's blood and tears finally merged into war, only the stumbling steps between heaven and earth were left, tossing and turning in the broken mountains and rivers. Wandering between hunger and disease, unfolding in the devastation of the journey. The roof of a foreign land is covered with moonlight dew, and he knows that the dew tonight will be frost and autumn grass with white hair. And autumn grass, autumn grass shrinks in a person's thinness.
Only the thatched cottage is waiting for him in Shu, and the only habitat in the world will usher in a lonely soul wandering in fate. He is no longer a poet. He is just a husband and father. In his wife's helpless tears, he suffered the great sadness that his young son had just died.
And bear the fate, or be manipulated by fate. A person who propped up the dynasty with his body was injured by tiles falling from his class, and a person who loved his motherland all his life was abandoned by his motherland forever.
Nothing can be saved, including the tens of millions of luxury houses at the end of the pen, which will also be doomed to collapse. All the tears poured down on a man in rags.
But he has lost sight of the glory of an era. Finally, I rely on singing, and finally I get lost in singing.
4, Bai Juyi (Author: Chen)
The piano player is on the water, the piano listener is on the horse, and the piano player and the piano listener meet in the same boat. This boat is a piano, which is plucked by the fingers of water. The so-called confidant is that the hearts of one person and another person are penetrated by the sound of the piano and circulated by running water. Everyone is looking for a bosom friend in the world, but they don't know when an opportunity will happen by chance. Tonight, who plays the piano alone under the waning moon? Loud sounds, such as the first frost in the four fields, the sound of the piano floats farther away than in the distance. The autumn moon on a cold night, the eternal mood, is on the jade finger and the light string. The sentimental feelings of Lushan Mountain were exhausted by the poetry pipa in an ancient night.
Xunyang River rolled and flowed on the pipa, and Bai Sima put down his glass and set the tone on the strings with sadness. At the end of the tune, the fingers playing the pipa gently slide on the strings. As a result, the boat full of autumn grievances disappeared forever with the sound of the piano. Poets, on the other hand, enter the classics gloomily through wet lines. Two long lines of tears, hanging on the face of history, can no longer be erased.
5, Li Qingzhao (Author: Ling Boxian)
On the one hand, it is a poem paved by the sunset, and on the other hand, it is a willow tree shaken by the soft wind in the water when you write a poem.
Under the Huang Lian tree, the pipa sounds. You light a lamp every night and let the beating flame stain the ink of the book with the red mole on your brow.
Holding a silhouette under your meditation window is the fun of autumn wind; Reading the rhyme of Tang poetry and Song poetry is your only move.
The morning is heavy, the sunset is bright, and the years are dry and glorious.
How many times have I opened the curtain of the season, but I have not found your silent flower shadow; How many times I rang the eaves bell of my thoughts, but I didn't hear your transparent laughter.
Boiling a pot of warm and fragrant tea, the rain and dew of the old year are like clear tears, with a touch of sweetness and a touch of loneliness and bitterness.
Why is your life a life of love poems and sentences, from sentimental to sentimental, from searching to cold silence, to indifferent and gloomy, to returning from the storm?
You have gone from old sorrow to new sorrow all your life, but you still haven't got rid of the word "sorrow" in your heart.
Your sad words have endless meaning and beauty. Such as the wind blowing across the vast lake, such as the autumn colors in the dusk, such as the haggard dusk in front of the window, such as the drunken plum blossoms with snow every year.
Empty night sky, a pair of affectionate eyes full of expectation. Sitting alone at dusk, waiting for Hong Yan to fly, let the sunset drown out hope. It rains in succession in Xiao Sheng, and your eyes get wet inadvertently.
This is a poetic day. Very thin.
Sit in your own shadow and watch the wind, the moon and the clouds.
Let the lonely wandering thoughts lyric for you and write immortal poems.
It is beautiful to be together in your heart; Separation only exists in your poems. Together with endless hatred, it blooms a peerless melancholy flower.
Jingkang is ashamed, but it is still snowing. When courtiers hate, rivers die? You sighed weakly: "I hate being born without a man, and I can't gallop on the battlefield ..."
Whether it is green, red or thin, but whether it is Jiangdong, your trembling feelings have been deeply spread into the hearts of hundreds of millions of people.
What's not satisfactory? You are not the only one who is thinner than Huanghua, you are not the only one who worries about everything, and you are not the only one who knows everything.
But when you look up and down, there is a broken sound that you can't forget. I always see the fragments of feelings shining with flowers and full of regret. Therefore, writing Jin Shilu in tears fulfilled my late husband's last wish. ...
The loneliness of an injured bird covered with branches is unbearable, and I worry about it 101 times. Let the confession be in vain, the white hair deceives people, and there is only one taste in my heart.
It overflowed my mind again.
6, Xin Qiji: (Author: Zhu)
A square scarf stained with smoke/a slogan/You write lyrics by riding a horse/You use Jiangshan as a paper sword as a pen/Images fly like arrows/You use horseshoes as punctuation/You put a hunting flag in the smoke/The lingering Song Dynasty refused your edge/You want to be an idyllic poet.
Living in the fragrance of rice, planting frogs/dreaming of gazing at the Central Plains/desert Ye Qingqing, the grass under the eaves is sad/spring is calling at the head of the stream/you miss the mountains and rivers of Lu, the rivers in Henan are red, and partridges are crying/but you don't know where the spring breeze is now.
7, Lu You (Author: Chen Mo)
At that time, Shenyuan was dark and there was no moon. Only the wind and snow roared outside the garden. Lu you listened. There it is.
The old swords and wolf hairs of Japanese envoys in the Central Plains of Beiding, Julian Waghann remain the same. A golden warrior's blood swept across the central plains paper.
From here to there is Kyushu.
The last sentence goes through the back of the paper, don't forget.
On the night after Shenyuan, there was no red stove for cooking Chinese medicine.
9, Li Yu (Author: Agu)
The phoenix tree locks the clear autumn/the moonlight gently fills the air with the past/the sadness in the fallen leaves returns to the goose/across the eyes/like a knife/across the heart
Looking at the south of the old country/only mountains/only mountains/no ancient palaces/fireworks and songs and dances/a mirage in a blink of an eye/gone in a blink of an eye.
I only hate that the spring breeze is too proud/I only hate that the continuous whispering is like a drunk/I wake up like a guest/I am carved by jade/I bury my memory/or I am wrapped by the west wind.
I want to say that I finally want to have a rest/go to the west wing quietly/the wind shakes the leaves slightly/deja vu/but I dare not ask "backyard flowers"
10, Wang Zhaojun (Author: You are my rose)
In the palace, I asked for advice and my eyes were full of bonfires. Why do those bones stand up and dance? Lying on the strings of the pipa, laughing? Crying? Or yelling? Sha sheng?
600,000 soldiers, 3,000 miles of battalions and the wind whistling across the desert-
Wave your hand and erase the thick vulgarity around you. You, a little girl, want to cultivate eternal peace.
How brilliant! The radiant sun can only hide in the dusk and reflect its own light.
What kind of mentality is that? The vast grassland and boundless land only deserve to be a small corner in my heart.
What kind of warmth is that? Even the most stubborn and powerful people, the most cunning and vicious ghosts will turn into peaceful ripples.
Your delicate shoulders bear two nationalities; Your soft and clean hands hold up the whole era.
Therefore, after two thousand years, history, this troubled baby, is still looking forward to your feeding.
1 1, Su Shi (Author: Li Xiaoyu)
Gone forever, the moon is no longer round.
Youyuan ... even the stones are rusty.
Water is like a song! Collected your life and the Red Cliff in your poems.
A mang sand washed by big waves, a pebble on the beach aged by years and stars, lying there listening to the sound of the waves.
Time is like water, sending away a boat.
Time is not old, let's have another pot of turbid wine and watch the river flood like a spring tide.
12, Yue Fei (Author: Li Xiaoyu)
Sad songs, such as mourning, such as pavilions, cast the eternal hatred of looking up to heaven and dropping blood. The hero's breath is exhausted by the cold leaves of Helan Mountain. White hair flutters like a flag in the long wind, and tears gush from a hole in my heart. Tears are turbid as ink and white as essence. Write down a cavity of grief and indignation in the pale history of the Northern Song Dynasty.
Eight thousand miles, clouds or clouds, months or months. Only the head, higher than the spirit, hangs high.
Second, classical feelings
1, classical freehand brushwork
It's still the old postal route/or the bloody sunset/skinny old horse/already in the west wind/wailing for thousands of years.
The end of the world has not returned/why are you still wandering alone/what makes you sad/what makes you wander far away?
Crows/old vines make you sad/smoke waves/bridges and flowing water are what you yearn for/you know that home is an eternal harbor after a long journey in a foreign land.
2. Gu Xiang is deeply touched.
Gu Xiangshen/Carved beams with empty eaves/Swallows in front of Wangxie Hall/Ended the 1000th reincarnation.
A thousand years of wind and rain/blowing/a thousand windows/a thousand windows/a story of a thousand women
Deep in the alley, there is an old man/Jasper bracelet locked in the fleeting time/so there is moonlight in the alley/he said: Let's go, ride the moon tonight.
No one has ever doubted that the erhu will ring at dusk/young couples walk by with the soft light of music/now is the future in their eyes/they are the happiest children.
Whose lover came to this life from the previous life 500 years ago/repeated a 500-year promise/lost face in 500 years of wind and rain/still never declined.
Gu Xiang's boudoir/beautiful sadness is no longer/only the phoenix tree that leaves every year/tells a story that the phoenix tree is not alive.
3. High mountains and flowing water
Moonlight, like water, flows quietly like music. Above the heart lake, in the closed eyes, there is a blooming desire.
Boya was silent, and so was he in his childhood. He only cares about high mountains and flowing water, which is majestic and gurgling, like flowing water.
Piano sounds like water. Feelings are like water.
Like water music, intentional tentacles beat each other.
How many days does it take to print a heart on another heart? How far does it take for one pair of eyes to read another pair of eyes?
It seems that I saw the Boyaz period, observed the lightness of a cup of tea, and explained the definition of confidant in the language of music.
Zizi is dead. Boya's piano is broken.
Broken into a lotus flower, hidden deep in the lotus pond, beyond the reach of the boat and feet.
I can only watch from a distance on the shore, just like enjoying this ancient famous song. (Author: Li Yulan)
4. Desert Changfeng
Through Achnatherum splendens, Alhagi, Elaeagnus angustifolia, I stared at the depths of the desert.
Those camel bells, solitary smoke, quicksand, but my eyes, my dreams, towards the distant history, towards the distant horizon. ...
The desert wind has been blowing for ten thousand years, and it is still blowing. The sunset of the long river still sets at dusk in the desert and rises at dawn in the desert.
The goshawk in Liangzhou Ci and ancient frontier poems flies high in the desert. People feel that those distant years, in the empty desert, are like a piece of flying paper and a grain of flying sand.
The desert wind has been blowing for ten thousand years, and it is still blowing. The desert wind scurrying on the undulating sand dunes is like a knife, who carved the wrinkles on his forehead into the ancients beyond the Great Wall? We listen to the roaring wind and waves, just like listening to the eternal rhythm and historical songs.
A lonely old horse, lying quietly in the desert sunset, when its old horse neigh drifted away, there was a floating cloud, which gradually approached an ancient myth.
The desert wind has been blowing for ten thousand years, and it is still blowing. Huqin, Pipa and Guzheng, whose heartstrings will be plucked one after another?
Don't say that Tiema Glacier is sleeping, and don't say that the luminous cup is full of grapes and wine. The Qiang flute under the frosty moon still blows the willows growing on the Silk Road.
Eight In the snow, suona Wan Li. The desert wind blows through the Qiaotou Post Station and the Qin Brick Hanwa. In the tragic mood, a thick cloud of dust rises, showing a mottled historical picture.
The desert wind has been blowing for ten thousand years, and it is still blowing. The expectation of 10 thousand years is really too far, and the watch of 10 thousand years has been burned to ashes.
Flying sand and stones hit the ancient clock, and the sun, moon and stars are full of our dreams.
Alone in the vast desert, it is difficult to heal the broken wound with the rubble shining in the moonlight for 5 thousand years. The throbbing and trembling dream will go away with the vast desert wind.
The desert wind has been blowing for ten thousand years, and it is still blowing. We will find traces and marks of life in the hinterland of the desert. Blood gurgled in the body, saturated with ancient poems and crossed the sand of time.
Our dreams grow in the long wind of the desert, and our ambitions continue in the long wind of the desert.
The long wind in the desert may bend our memories and eyes, but it will never bend the way we stand in life.
The desert wind has been blowing for 10 thousand years, and it will blow for 10 thousand years ... (Author: Singing with Dreams)
5. Triassic in Yangguan
It's raining, green willows are weeping, and a glass of farewell wine.
Who is it, drinking the morning rain in the Acropolis and seeing off the last friend?
Tears that can't flow out are soaked in wine.
If you can't say it, soak it in poetry.
Another farewell drink!
In the west, there is no grass and no old friends to talk about, but the dust in the desert holds up a lonely moon.
Listen, whose hand rang the three folds of Yangguan,
Let the raindrops of the acropolis be full of parting?
30% off, whose loneliness, whose loss and whose sigh are stacked together?
Whose delicate fingers hurt the fragile heartstrings?
There is no one else outside Yangguan. Can there be a bosom friend inside Yangguan?
Yang Guan is 30% off, and only regrets through the ages.
It's cold tonight. It's Meng Han tonight.
A glass of turbid wine makes people drunk in the west, and it becomes a sad poem.
What about Wang Wei, who writes poetry?
Still standing in the rain of Weicheng, holding a lonely wine lamp, overlooking Chang' an, drinking alone for thousands of years. (Author: Li Yulan)
6. The image of clearing sand
The ancient road is an ancient road that extends deep into history. I saw that the thorn road was full of loneliness and vicissitudes.
The ancient road, in fact, not only leads to the ancient times, but also reaches deep into the heart of a thin horse, exploring and wandering in the ancient homesickness.
An old tree beside the ancient road has stood for hundreds of years. Looking forward to a new flowering period.
What's more, over time, a wolf hair is used to describe the ancient road that no longer exists; With the heart of a jade pot, intoxicated by the ancient clues from the rare morning star.
……
The days are getting deeper and deeper, and the west wind is getting stronger and stronger.
He, with one hand pushing away the gathering dusk, and the other hand wrapped in thin clothes and deep eyes, stared at the distance.
In the arrogant west wind, the horn of spring sounded vaguely. He rode away energetically. Bright eyes, emitting two fiery lights.
The thin horse comes from Ma Zhiyuan's poem "Da Da", which is a dream of flying.
Thin horse, exhausted, full of travel worries, abrupt, in the noise.
No one noticed the thin horse's worries. Iron beetles full of gasoline roared past it; Fat, shiny face, looked at it contemptuously.
Thin horse, as always, walked his own loneliness. In its memory, there are beautiful spring and gorgeous peach blossoms.
In front of it, there is a call, which is a rich expectation for its life.
Thin horse, walking in the melancholy picture of the autumn wind blowing down the sunset. The same thin traveler can't help screaming.
Yuanye is empty. (Author: Huang Chunxiang)
7. Three chapters of ancient rhyme
Hanshan Temple
The moon sets and cries. Every night, a light silver frost covers the mysterious sky. Stars weave endless symbols and words. Qiao Feng gasped, struggling to shrink into a bow in a thousand years of silence.
The river is as long as before. After many ships, only one of the Tang Dynasty docked here, and a fishing fire lit the lonely eyes of the drifters.
This clock is very famous. The bell can't wake up the memory of the ancient wood. In the noise of rotation, time and space are shattered into dust.
Only the light blue path tells me one indelible legend after another.
Bridge truncation
Distant legends have been eroded by the traces of tourists. Many beautiful women pass by, who can forget the woman in white in the drizzle?
Flying love. The last chain of the universe was broken. Gardenia flowers are flying all over the sky. An umbrella is a poem. The charming smile under the umbrella lit the fire of nirvana outside the umbrella.
Life is a bridge. Two options. Stop, it is sunny, quiet and serene; Progress is a bitter and lingering addiction. You chose the latter. Because there is an ancient lotus that never fades under the water.
Look into the distance
Overlooking Your back is embedded in the burning sky. A piece of blood is boundless.
Overlooking Eyes gradually moist, flowing through the barren vilen. In late autumn, a crimson tear blooms.
The dusk of the castle was shaken crisp and deep by camel bells. On the distant horizon, I will always watch your sunset.
Overlooking Your back is a string, pulling my pain for a long time.
8, the vicissitudes of Loulan
An ancient civilization/dried with the last drop of water/in the smoke of years/Loulan/is a/hot bookmark/carefully opened/only know what is true/vicissitudes.
How many backpacks/silks and tea leaves have lost their warmth in the sunset/something is shining with cold light/a treasure that grave robbers can't take away/various ceramic jars and their own bodies/bones.
Xianyang Ancient Road/Chetuoma Rustling/Sunset Drops of Blood/Zhang Qian Broken Banner Splashing Red/Class Super Long Bearded Dyed Yellow Northwest Lush Grass/Wolf Smoke Gone/Who sang Yangguan in the windward of Baqiao Bridge/Is Dunhuang Broken Mural still coming down/That beautiful and mysterious girl/Listen.
The river is as dry as a crawling dead snake/the place where soldiers drink horses has long been turned into a desert/countless chapped lips are in desperate pupils/magnified by overlapping/like cracked ribs in Gobi arms/only tall and dense Populus euphratica forests/some dead vines are left in the scorching sun/breathing/an eagle hovering in the air/the shrill cry is a language that few people understand/a mystery that has been submerged for thousands of years/it has been said again and again/again.