bookish world

When it rained - when the rain did not want to be heavy, when the rain began to fall, I sat by the window, holding the book in my hand. Listening to the rustling of the rain outside the window, the book in the house is full of books, which is probably the best thing. I was immersed in this feeling, this wonderful and imaginative bookish world.

Reading Tang and Song poetry, reading is the state of mind. Open the scroll, then dream back to the Tang and Song dynasties, as if to see the ancient vicissitudes of the city wall thousands of years ago, that simple and heavy blue stone; The quiet and clear night sky, the battlefield filled with smoke... The scenery is different, the heart is different, always give people infinite reverie: "Flowers from drifting water flow, a kind of acacia, two idle sorrow." I want to see a woman independent stream, to the willow water to tell her worries; When the men with ambitions fought hard on the battlefield, the eyes suddenly emerged "the Lu of the horse is fast, the bow is like a thunderbolt string." Magnificent; Mountains in a foreign land, looking at the moon, the thoughts of loved ones in the heart turned into a blessing for the world: "I hope people for a long time, a thousand miles of the moon." This is a kind of how open-minded, how heroic mind! Reading Tang and Song poems, I read the sadness of homesickness, the joy of life, the hardship of fate... I seem to blend into it, with them, sweet and sour, taste all life.

To read prose is to read attitude. In the misty rain days, I can lament how time flies in "Hurry", find the author's praise for the teacher in "Mr. Fujino", or taste the father-son love in "Back"... We can follow the famous brush strokes: into Lin Qingxuan, understanding the philosophy of life; Enter Zhu Ziqing, praise the beauty and vitality of spring; Or recall the past with Lu Xun, listen to Wang Zengqi about natural wild interest. We can taste life with them, travel the whole world, enjoy the beauty of mountains and rivers, the beauty of the nation. I can't see it, but I can believe it.

Not only poetry and prose, other books, but also let me indulge: reading The Three Kingdoms, I read the wit of Zhuge Liang, and his speech with the style of scholars; Reading Lu Xun, I read his sympathy for the people and hatred of the enemy, his "frowning at a thousand fingers, head bowed as a willing ox." feelings; Reading Beethoven, I read her unyielding to fate and love of music... Every book is a world, in the world full of books, I like a fish in love with water generally intoxicated in it, so that I can not extricate myself.

The rain stopped and I put down my book. The clouds parted, the sun shone, and a rainbow hung in the sky. I have not yet come out from the world full of books, see the rainbow, and can not help but think:

"Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, blue, purple, who holds the dance?"

Books, a world full of imagination, have benefited me a lot. Not only let me acquire knowledge, but also cultivate my sentiment. This world full of books, it always makes me drunk.

the moon." This is a kind of how open-minded, how heroic mind! Reading Tang and Song poems, I read the sadness of homesickness, the joy of life, the hardship of fate... I seem to blend into it, with them, sweet and sour, taste all life.