In real life or work and study, everyone has written compositions. With compositions, people can reflect objective things, express thoughts and feelings, and convey knowledge and information. Do you know how to write a standardized composition? The following is the composition of Dreaming Back to Jiangnan that I collected for everyone. You are welcome to read it. I hope you will like it. Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 1
Jiangnan is like wisps of light smoke and pots of wine, which makes people intoxicated.
—Inscription
In my dream, there is the Jiangnan that I yearn for...
In the early morning, I quietly opened the simple red window and faced my face. What comes is a moist breath. The green mountains in the distance are endless. The sunshine quietly pushes away the clouds and mist. The sun shines on the green tiles that are still wet, reflecting a strange beauty. Then look at the wine flags in the town. The wild flowers and grass on the roadside were fluttering, and they were overwhelmed by the rain. The innocent little boy held the candied haws in his mouth, but when he saw the grass, he was not happy, so he quietly walked to the grass and lowered his voice. He leaned over and wiped off the water drops on Xiaocao's body, and said to himself: "I'll buy you some sweets later so you can get better soon, Xiaocao." What I heard was not short-lived but Childish language, but a kind and innocent childlike heart.
At noon, the sun in the sky became more dazzling. The big and small taverns in the town seemed to be waking up and became lively. The children happily let their parents take them to eat. Under the background of the crowd, the snack bar also became lively. The dazzling array of snacks attracted the children's attention, such as Guandong candy, maltose, candied haws, candy man, candy Painting... Parents can't stand the nudges of their children. They had to spend 2 cents to buy these snacks for their children.
In the afternoon, thick dusk enveloped the entire town, geese were flying, the bright moon in the sky gradually showed its head, the clouds gradually gathered together, and there were fewer people on the street. Looking from a distance, every household has already started cooking and preparing for that day's dinner. Night gradually fell, with thousands of lights in the distance and laughter echoing in the town. Blackness enveloped the town, proving that night had fallen.
At night, the alley was brightly lit, as bright as day. People took out bamboo chairs and sat in the yard to enjoy the cool air. The bright crescent moon is shining faintly with clear light. In the lotus pond, hundreds of frogs are chirping together. The frogs and the birds are integrated into one. The stars at night are like clear diamonds set in the black curtain. They are extremely beautiful. Watching the stars carefully, I feel intoxicated. Don't have any fun!
Ah, Jiangnan in dreams, charming Jiangnan! Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 2
I always think that in my previous life, I must have been a woman from Jiangnan. Because of the restless dream soul, it returned every night.
It is misty and rainy, the spring river is warm, and ducks are playing in the water. The breeze gently swayed the willows, and the face was not cold. The drizzle carries the scent of apricot blossoms, making your clothes wet. A woman in wet clothes by the water. I looked at her from a distance and felt like we had seen her before. The white clothes, the green skirt, the flowing eyes, the shell-like teeth, the cloud-like black hair, the green-like hands... The sound of water rushing together with the crows of ducks is so harmonious and beautiful. Gently, I walked towards her, as if I was afraid of crushing the moonlight on the ground, as if I was afraid of crushing a fleeting dream, so I walked gently. But she left, just as I was about to come to her side. Carrying a wooden basin, he left slowly. Walk into a verdant bamboo forest. Rustling, rustling, there seems to be a faint laughter in the misty sky.
Late spring. Follow a winding path. The ground is bluestone, and the moss on the roadside is already dark green. Far away, a thatched hut is hidden deep in the pear blossoms. The rain beats the pear blossoms, and the door is deeply closed. In the rain of petals falling like snow, whose voice is lingering, chanting heart-breaking verses? Don't open the curtains, for fear of seeing flying flowers or hearing the cuckoo's song. Quietly, let me go. I can't bear to interrupt your passionate thoughts and see your blurred tearful eyes.
Summer is coming, right? Listen to the singing on the river. Following the sound, it was such a joyous scene. Look at the boundless green lotus flowers on the water, pink, white and red lotus flowers. Women wearing lotus leaf skirts of the same color, with hibiscus splayed on both sides of their faces, were swimming in orchid boats, wandering on the water like water fairies. An erotic song that sings the romance and passion of summer and the youth of the lotus-picking woman. The blooming of youth must be complemented by hibiscus flowers and harmonized by singing. Only in this way can we be worthy of this beautiful and slightly green season.
It is summer that is so full that juice is flowing out. A night of dancing fireflies. The thin night fog is misty and misty. It gathers together and spreads out, like my heart and soul, swimming in the faint fragrance of vegetation. The banana tree stood quietly in the night, and the black and bright water drops slid down along the neat veins of the leaves. What you suddenly see is an old-fashioned wooden structure house, with a star hanging on the eaves, and the bluestone steps below reveal a refreshing coolness. The moon is in the sky, shining green and white all over the ground.
In my dream, there seem to be only two seasons in Jiangnan: spring and summer. It always seems to be deep in the flowers and by the water in the alley. There always seems to be a lilac girl.
In my dream, I don’t know who I am. Maybe it's me in the past life, maybe it's a ghost that can't leave, or maybe it's just a drop of water or a petal in the south of the Yangtze River. Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 3
I want to dream about returning to Jiangnan.
I think it was early spring at that time. There were no high-rise buildings that blocked out the sky and the sun. There were only well-proportioned black tiles and white walls, crisscrossing clear rivers, and the indispensable sounds of birds singing in my ears. The ground cries. Looking up, you can see the blue sky, which makes you completely free from the suffocating hustle and bustle, and take a deep breath.
In the early spring in Jiangnan, there is always light rain. Walking lightly through the old streets, you reach out to catch a drop of rainwater, which is sweet and sweet. Go to the shop in the alley to buy an oil-paper umbrella, and listen to the rain falling rhythmically on the umbrella. It is so relaxing and pleasant.
At such a time when the breeze is humid, I hold an umbrella and walk in the deserted and quaint alleys. I take a deep breath and feel refreshed. The clear smell of Jiangnan reverberates in my heart. It was as if the person had suddenly been freed from the mire, feeling cool and comfortable. The white and slightly gray walls on both sides, the emerald green moss on the stone steps, the ajar doors and windows under the eaves of several houses, everything looks so remote and peaceful, and also reveals a touch of elegance. Smelling the endless fragrance of flowers, I seem to see the long and lonely rain alley described by Dai Wangshu. I seem to see a girl holding the umbrella handle with her white hands, surrounded by the sorrow of lilac, alone in this long rain alley. Hesitating... This is such a sad, cold and desolate love... In the trance, a breeze blew by, and when I came back to my senses, the rain had stopped. I closed my umbrella, walked through the broken flowers blown by the wind and rain, came to the river, and slowly got on the boat.
The spring water is as green as the sky, and the boat is painted and sleeping while listening to the rain. The water in the south of the Yangtze River is the most sentimental. As the oars rock, the boat moves forward, creating ripples. When you lean down and touch the water with your fingertips, you feel the refreshing coolness, and the water gently brushes over your fingers. The pointed, hanging willow branches passed over my shoulders, as if they were teasing me. Passing through the exquisite stone bridge cave, watching the crowds of tourists on both sides of the strait, the rain started quietly again, tourists held up umbrellas one after another, and the streets were bustling with people. Although there was a little noise, it added to this silent picture of boating in the rain. Lots of color.
After walking for a long time, I felt a little tired, so I found a small shop to sit and rest. The landlady enthusiastically served tea. Sitting on the edge of the bed and looking out, the lights were lit one after another, the smoke from the kitchen was rising, and the aroma of wine and food filled the alley. It was as lively as the city, but not so noisy and impetuous.
The beauty, beauty and sorrow, simplicity and elegance of Jiangnan are immersed in the long river of time. I don’t want the beautiful soil to be lost with time. I hope it will always be like the Jiangnan described by Bai Juyi: Jiangnan is good and the scenery is familiar to me. When the sun rises, the flowers on the river are as red as fire, and when spring comes, the river is as green as blue. Can you not remember Jiangnan?
I want to dream about going back to Jiangnan again. Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 4
I had a dream that day. In the dream, a girl holding an oil-paper umbrella was walking slowly, and disappeared after a while.
I tried to catch up with that figure, but I never thought I would get lost.
I lost her on a bridge. The bridge seemed to be hundreds of years old and was still made of stone. There is moss growing on the bridge, and the whole bridge seems to be dyed with a layer of green, lying quietly on the creek.
I lowered my head to look at the creek. The water was flowing slowly and I could clearly see the pebbles at the bottom of the creek. One or two weeds grew out of the water, and a few red goldfish jumped out of the water from time to time, which had a unique flavor.
Looking up, I saw the houses on both sides of the bridge, with black bricks and white tiles, giving people a clear visual impact, and there were a few wisps of smoke on the roofs. There are willow trees planted next to some houses. When the wind blows, the willow branches sway gently, which also takes away my mood.
Suddenly it started to rain, and I quickly ran to a roof to hide from the rain.
The rain is not too heavy, but it is very thin and dense, like flower needles. I couldn't help but stretched out my hand, and the raindrops fell on my palm, which was numb as if I had been electrocuted.
The bridge in the rain was covered with a layer of fog, existing like a dream, with the green bridge head looming. The raindrops like flower needles fell into the stream, causing light ripples. The stream water and the rain played with each other, like friends reunited after a long separation.
After a while, the rain stopped and I continued walking on the street.
For some reason, the road under my feet was slippery. Maybe it was because of the rain, or maybe it was because of the plants growing on the ground. There are only a few pedestrians on the road, and it takes a long time to walk before you meet one or two people. Sometimes you can hear the shouts of vendors not far away.
As I walked, the road under my feet turned into a stone road. Moss grew in the gaps between each stone slab. The green color spread all over the road. It was particularly eye-catching and reminded me of a song - - "Bluestone Alley". My heart was soaring with my steps, but I didn't expect to meet several children. The children were dressed simply and had two pigtails on their heads. They were running around and making noises. They were so happy and had the same naughtiness as when I was a child. I couldn't help but stop and say hello to them.
They smiled at me, their green cheeks were slightly red, and the corners of their mouths were still raised at an upward angle, and they continued to look back and start playing around.
I couldn’t help but laugh, no wonder everyone in the world wants to be as innocent and innocent as children.
Continue walking and enter a forest. The damp alley is full of fresh smell. There is a trace of mist in the forest. The trees in the distance are covered with a mysterious veil. The branches in the forest are There are several green leaves growing on it. Looking up, a girl holding an oil-paper umbrella came into view...
When I woke up, I realized that I had returned to Jiangnan in my dream.
——by Nan Qiao. Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 5
Paddle a small boat to take you to the south of the Yangtze River; lift a corner of the bead curtain to accompany you to enjoy the south of the Yangtze River. Jiangnan has beautiful scenery and pleasant climate. Its treasures are as endless as the stars in the sky. Among them, there is one star that is particularly dazzling. It is the traditional folk craft - purple clay pot.
I stepped into the wooden door of Cicheng Zisha Teapot Exhibition Hall with full expectations. The first thing that caught my eye was a huge three-dimensional folding fan on the wall, and then there was a glass cabinet standing against the wall. There is a small and exquisite purple clay pot on display inside. The whole body of the purple clay teapot is brown, with several peach blossoms carved on it. One peach blossom is hiding delicately among the peach branches and green leaves, like a shy girl; the other flowers are fully open, as if they can't wait to show their beauty to people. The top and handle of the pot are also engraved with peach blossoms. Oh, look carefully at the sign next to the pot. There is a line of small gold foil characters - Jiao Tao Yingchun Pot. I suddenly realized, no wonder there are so many peach blossoms, they are all to welcome the arrival of spring!
Walking inside, I heard a noise coming from another exhibition hall. Hey, why is it so lively? I walked over curiously. "Everyone, be quiet! The master is coming to make pots!" "Making pots"? I walked inside with the crowd and found out that this exhibition also invited a master craftsman to demonstrate how to make a purple clay pot.
The old master is on stage! She has silver hair all over her head and looks very old. "To make a pot, you must first choose good Jiangnan purple clay. Be careful not to choose one that is too hard or too thin." The old master took a piece of purple clay from the lecture table. At this time, the audience was silent, and dozens of pairs of curious eyes stared at the old master and the purple clay in her hand. The old master was talking and doing, and slowly, the ball of purple clay in her hand miraculously turned into a purple clay pot. The old master has stopped her production. But my heart is still tightly pulled.
I continued walking inside and entered the "Innovative Purple Clay Pot Exhibition Hall." All of the extremely creative purple clay pots on display here. Some of them are covered with green leaves and full of vitality; some have a small chameleon lying on the lid of the pot, and the chameleon is exactly the same color as the pot body; some are flat in shape, with the pot body only three centimeters high, but the spout is huge, The handle of the pot is special, and the proportions of the whole body are unique... After seeing so many works, I can't help but admire the makers secretly.
Time passed by inadvertently, and I walked out of the exhibition hall very reluctantly.
Through the bead curtain, look at the charming Jiangnan, so mysterious and dreamy; look at the exquisite purple clay pot, so classic and elegant.
Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 6
A pool of green water brightened my thoughts, and a touch of the morning sun brightened my heart. Whose turn makes ripples, and whose lines of poetry are full of melodiousness. In this gentle Jiangnan, the curtain falls gently.
This is the south of the Yangtze River, a typical "family with small bridges and flowing water". It is no wonder that Ma Zhiyuan would express "the sun sets in the west, and the heartbroken people are at the end of the world." The flower-like jade-like Jiangnan, I came here in search of a dream in the spring of March. The golden setting sun shone brightly on me, and I couldn't help but blend into this "Jiangnan scenery".
The boats are swaying lightly here and the singing is lingering, but it makes me feel the vicissitudes of time and the aging of time. Jiangnan is a gentle place. There are roads paved with bluestones everywhere. When you step out of the door, you can see the flowing water. You can shake the oar and follow the waves in the water. On the roadside, hibiscus flowers bloomed early, quietly scattering fallen flowers all over the ground. People in the south of the Yangtze River say that girls from the south of the Yangtze River are as beautiful as water and as beautiful as the fallen heroes of that place. Jiangnan is famous for its embroidery. No matter where you are, the dazzling array of embroidery will always blind your eyes in the sun. Jiangnan has a prosperous economy, but the endless stream of people has disturbed the tranquility and the vulgarity.
Maybe because I like tranquility by nature, I always like to find a secluded place to avoid the hustle and bustle of the world. Looking at the quiet world of Jiangnan, I can't help but feel a sense of loss. Walking through the loneliness that permeates the eyes of the world, I am alone and admiring myself. In the afterglow of the setting sun, the green gardens rippled, suddenly enriching the beauty of Jiangnan, which was originally a paradise. Tingting is curling up, with luxuriant branches and leaves, lush and green.
Light clouds roll up into the sky, and a continuous drizzle falls. Open an oil-paper umbrella, stand on the stone arch bridge in the dusk, watch a flower bloom, listen to a folk song, and pass by the floating pond. Smoke does not stain the fine dust. Gently close your eyes and feel the moist Jiangnan atmosphere. The river that has been flowing for many years is still glowing with stars in the sunset. As the dusk fades, the quiet river sides are already brightly lit when you inadvertently look back. Time makes us grow old, and even though it’s time to go back, I still refuse to leave.
In Jiangnan at night, even though the red lanterns have been hung high next to the plane trees, and even though the stone tables under the trees have begun to fill up with tourists, they are still quiet, blurry and soft.
I may have been born in the south of the Yangtze River in my previous life, but I can’t wait to find it in this life and fall in love with it: I like the small bridges and flowing water and the people here, I like every delicacy and cleverness here, and I like to hold a copy. Tea savors the joys and sorrows of life...
Jiangnan, in your spring this year, who has the peach blossom made you famous? Looking back, who did Chenyuan meet? A leaf orchid boat, who did you miss? With a word of cherishment, who did Tianya send to you?
Dreaming back to the small bridge and running water, looking for the south of the Yangtze River in March. Time flies all the way, and the years pass by. When you wake up from the dream, it is still a dream after all. Dreaming Back to Jiangnan Composition 7
Jiangnan in the dream is charming, passionate, and real. Every stone bridge, every carved window, every bell tower, and every deep alley made me forget myself and step into the Yingying world without paying attention...
In the dream In the south of the Yangtze River, all the prosperity is dancing and all the flowers are falling. The willow wind blows open the smiles of Jiangnan, the rain of apricot blossoms wets the eyebrows of Jiangnan, the green and black mottled stone roads record the happiness and past of Jiangnan, the orchestral strings and bamboos sing the aspirations and yearnings of Jiangnan, Jiangnan is beautiful, so beautiful It’s overwhelming and so beautiful that you won’t want to leave.
Flowers often fall; water flows forever; the falling flowers on the flowing water reflect Jiangnan's eyes with tenderness and flow in Jiangnan's heart. The brocade petals fall thousands of times and then gently kiss the shadow of the thin water like a dream. The ripples can only be surrounded by the fallen flowers, so the water is calm and the flowers are undefeated. The water is smart and the flowers follow.
A warm breeze turns the south bank of the Yangtze River green, and a misty rain soaks the heart of the south of the Yangtze River. The rain of apricot blossoms, the wind in the willows, and the spring water of the river make the entire Jiangnan region full of gentleness and tenderness. The drizzle taps on the fallen flowers in the deep well, on the bells in the shadow of the tower, on the houses by the river, on the green tiles and white walls, coupled with the sparse forest, the faint moon, and the ancient stone Bridge, it's no wonder that the gentle breeze and drizzle have to stubbornly stay.
In the dream, the silk and bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River are so prosperous that I can’t remember much. I can vaguely imagine Bai Juyi’s pipa by the Xunyang River, Zhong Ziqi and Yu Boya’s Jiaowei Qin in the mountains and flowing water, and Ah Erhu by the spring under the moonlight...what else? That's enough. I think I have remembered the music that belongs only to her. From then on, the memory will last forever.
There is no noise and roar in Jiangnan in the dream, only orioles flying with sound; there are no collisions of stones in Jiangnan, only cherry blossoms forming shadows. Jiangnan is peaceful. In the early morning, a long pole shattered a settled dream, and the rippling ripples evoked the intoxicating Jiangnan. There were more people rowing on the river, but they were hazy and unclear. It's foggy, and the smoke has locked Jiangnan. The Jiangnan in the dream is even more illusory and hazy, and it has fallen into the smoke and fog, making it difficult to see clearly, understand, and not enjoy it fully.
Silently, maybe in some deep alley or on the mottled stone road, you will encounter a classical girl with a bun and an oil-paper umbrella. The brightly colored oil-paper umbrella adds a little bit to Jiangnan. Bright and beautiful, they have become the eternal scenery of Jiangnan.
The Jiangnan in my dream is so beautiful, and it also gives me so much longing. This place with the tenderness of water makes me fascinated. It is like a blurred dream lingering in my heart. I know, I will remember her, Jiangnan in the apricot blossoms and spring rains.