Sihai network

The fragrance of memory

In life, there are always some memories deeply buried in our hearts. Although time flies, they will not darken the color and fade the fragrance, because that is the melody of the interaction between the two hearts, singing out the symphony of love.

--Inscription

It's them that make me find the way forward in the vast sea of people; it's them that make me strong in the baptism of years; it's them that make me thrive in the wind, frost and rain; it's them that make me have a dream and keep looking for the dawn of victory.

Time is like wind, memory is like giant rock, wind will depict the huge rock full of holes, with affectionate hand to smooth. composition

My father is a steady person, in my life, there is no lack of his severe love. Up to now, I still clearly remember the 'challenge host competition' held by the school. Before the competition, I said excitedly: 'dad, you wait, I will come back with the first prize! But dad said carelessly: 'thank God you don't let the audience rush down! 'so I ended up top of the school. Afterwards, I heard from my classmates that my father had been paying close attention to me in the distance during the competition.

Time is like the sea, memory is like the beach, the sea will send shells to the sea, and take back the vast mind. composition

My grandmother is a kind person, she has a kind face. When I was a child, I used to look up at the stars in the sky in my grandmother's arms and listen to her stories about charm. And the milk always care about me, said to me: 'grandma's darling is the best, you will be admitted to university! 'however, when I was 8 years old, she left me and went to another world. Let my cry reverberate in the funeral hall, but I can't change my grandmother's smiling face.

Time is like a wheel, memory is like soil. The wheel imprints its imprint on the soil, but it goes to other places.

My mother is a harsh person. She is my teacher. She cares for me with special love. Every time I was in the top 10 in the exam, my grades were not stable. When my mother heard my grades but cried in the office, she said: 'how sad it would be if she didn't get the second place next time! 'mother is like this, thinking of her baby daughter in every corner of her life.

Time may be merciless, it left dust to yesterday's memory, but it can never be weathered that fresh memory. Because this is never zero flowers in memory, is they break through the wind and rain in unison, pluck up the keys of love, in the years to play a melody of the heart.

The fragrance of memory is so beautiful and beautiful! It's me singing & hellip; & hellip; through the fragrant memory of a hundred years' who are you, reader, reading my poem after a hundred years? 'an old man in plain clothes with white cloth on his head came to me and looked at me with a silent smile.' I can't send you a flower from the wealth of spring, or a wisp of gold from the clouds in the distance. Open the door and look around. I can pick the fragrant memory of flowers that disappeared a hundred years ago from the prosperous garden, and let the joyful voice go through a hundred years

Tagore approached me step by step and whispered in my ear that the beauty of dedication was like a touch of spring sunshine, kissing every living creature.

In the twilight of the morning, the leaves sway gently in the autumn wind. 'when the fallen leaves lost themselves in the soil, they merged into the life of the forest. 'you said, holding a yellow leaf in your hand. The significance of Ye Er's life lies in this. In the late autumn evening wind, Ye Er uses a brilliant farewell way to end his life and dedicate his meager strength to the earth. Scattered into mud, do not expect anything in return, it just remember the earth to its feeding, but also eager to use their own life to repay, perhaps because of this, Ye Zi got eternal life, floating in the poet's lingering pen and ink, a scroll of books & hellip; & hellip;

The desolate past of autumn is the blooming of spring. The budding buds of the branches, or the stamens between the layers of leaves, compete with each other in clusters. 'the soil is insulted, but in return, the flowers. 'you asked me to dig out a piece of soil, and I smelled the fragrance of the soil. composition

Although the soil bears people's rejection, it has no complaints. After the beating of raindrops and the raging of cold wind, it finally breathes the fragrance of a place in the warm spring breeze and plays the music of gurgling in people's hearts. Perhaps, some ugly things in the world, they have been quietly dedicated, have been working hard for the good of the world.

'life is given by God. We only have it when we give it. 'you still smile and tell me the true meaning of eternity. Is it true that all things in the world are the same? We come to this world, but we have nothing. Only after we learn to give, can we get return; only after we give convenience to others, can we give convenience to ourselves. Only when we devote ourselves to others with a sincere heart, can we reap, harvest joy and happiness, and harvest other people's efforts. At this time, we can have a heavy life, and really have it, right? composition

Linger in the courtyard of flowers in full bloom, I picked a flower in full bloom under the rain and dew of dedication, delicate and unusual, I gently smell, smell the fragrant memory of flowers, in an old man's smile, through a hundred years of time & hellip; & hellip; 2007 college entrance examination full score composition: through a hundred years of fragrant memory "who are you, reader, reading my poem after a hundred years?" An old man dressed in plain clothes with white cloth on his head came to me and said with a silent smile, "I can't send you a flower from the wealth of spring, or a wisp of golden haze from the clouds in the distance. Open the door and look around. Pick the fragrant memory of the flowers that disappeared a hundred years ago from the blooming garden, and let the joyful voice travel through a hundred years."

Tagore approached me step by step, whispering in my ear, telling me the beauty of dedication. It was like a touch of spring sunshine, kissing every living creature.

In the twilight of the morning, the leaves sway gently in the autumn wind. "When the fallen leaves lost themselves in the soil, they merged into the life of the forest." You said, holding a yellow leaf in your hand. This is the meaning of ye'er's life. In the late autumn evening wind, ye'er will end his life with a brilliant farewell way and devote his meager strength to the earth. Scattered into mud, do not expect anything in return, it just remember the earth's nurturing grace, but also eager to use their own life to repay. Because of this, Ye Zi got eternal life, floating in the poet's lingering pen and ink, in the books

The desolate past of autumn is the blooming of spring. The budding buds of the branches, or the stamens between the layers of leaves, compete with each other in clusters. "The soil has been insulted, but in return, the flowers." You let me hold a piece of earth, I smell the fragrance in the earth. composition

Although the soil bears people's rejection, it has no complaints. After the beating of raindrops and the raging of cold wind, it finally breathes the fragrance of a place in the warm spring breeze and plays the music of gurgling in people's hearts. Perhaps, some ugly things in the world, they have been quietly dedicated, have been working hard for the good of the world.

"Life is given by God. We only have it when we give it away." You still smile and tell me the true meaning of eternity. Is it the same with everything in the world? When we come to this world, we have nothing. Only when we learn to give, can we get something in return. Only when we give convenience to others, can we give convenience to ourselves. Only when we devote ourselves to others with a sincere heart, can we reap joy and happiness, as well as other people's efforts. At this time, we can have a heavy life, and really have it, right? composition

Wandering in the courtyard of flowers in full bloom, I picked a flower in full bloom under the rain and dew of dedication. It was extremely delicate. I smelled the fragrance of the flowers. In the smile of an old man, I passed through a hundred years

Comments on famous teachers

This article is of great taste, which comes from the accumulation of knowledge and the influence of culture. The author gives full play to the advantage of reading Tagore, and expresses his poetic understanding of dedication and gratitude by means of crossing time and space and talking with the great poets. The purpose of praising ye'er and sighing at the earth is to talk about life and to clarify that "only when we dedicate ourselves to others with a sincere heart, can we reap joy and happiness, as well as the efforts of others.".

In a large number of straightforward, less meaningful essays, I read such a pure and natural prose poem by chance. It's like feeling the cool wind in a hot day. How can a teacher who is happy and energetic not get high marks? Those warm memories, those warm memories

Some music has no end, flowers also lost fragrance, once spring and autumn and winter and summer, left your smile.

--Inscription

A busy world, pedestrians in a hurry, busy lost too much good. I once imagined that there would be a mysterious man with a pocket to pick up the lost memory and return it to its original owner. But fantasy, after all, is fantasy, and it can't become reality. Lost warmth is like running water and never looks back. composition

siesta

When I was in kindergarten, everyone was very lively, but I couldn't help feeling sleepy at noon. I seem to be an exception. Nap is my most energetic time. I dare not move when I want to play. When I'm bored, beautiful music comes from my ear. It's not loud, but it's very soft. The time of daily nap is stealthily stolen and lost in the beating keys. composition

Now think about it, Qin music has already forgotten almost, but in retrospect, it has added a touch of sunshine to the loneliness of childhood.

boiling water

That year I began to study the Three Kingdoms.

Fascinated by the brilliance of the book, he did not forget to take the book when he poured the boiling water. It seemed that everything was unimportant. As a result, half a basin of boiling water was buckled on the ground. Although he hid in time, his feet were still gray. When my parents saw a scolding, they tore the book I was reading. At that time, I was wronged. Tears were still in my eyes. I didn't know whether it was pain or grievance. Cry to cry, injury or to deal with. At that time, it was winter, and my father only wore thin clothes to buy medicine for me. Because of the medicine full of father's love, I survived the pain. All things in the world are far less important than a word of love.

There are too many memories in life. In the rush of life, maybe I can give up the others, but I can not give up those warm memories, because there is a strong love. The memory of autumn, the taste of autumn, mixed with a trace of Sweet & hellip; & hellip;

A man was sitting on a park bench, closing his eyelids and facing the sky. The wind gently passed, with cinnamon, stroking my cheeks, lingering in my fingertips, only at this time, I will feel the existence of autumn, feel their own existence.

It's so dark that I always feel like I'm going to be pressed down and huddle in the sofa