Pipaxing expansion composition 800

1. Pipa Xing expanded into a meaningful and beautiful essay of 800 words.

Maze-like awning boat, anchored in Guhuang's letters; The dusty memory is stuck in the thin smoke of the cold yarn. A cry-like, silent pipa sound, with a clanging sound, came from the distant ends of the earth, awakened the memory that had been sleeping for a long time and shook the cold water of a river. The moon shadow is cut into small fireflies, and the moon melts on the cold river. In the dead of night, the cold Jiangyue looks like a picture scroll dyed with ink for thousands of years. The picture scroll is faint, and the ink and wash landscapes are stained with historical colors one by one, and they have experienced the romantic scenery of the dance pavilion.

A long sigh came from the end of the horizon, from the stormy Tang Dynasty, and changed its frequency from the wind and cloud of the Song Dynasty. Those bitter tears soaked the long-sleeved blue shirts of the Ming Dynasty and the patterned flag shirts of the Qing Dynasty, and can still wet today's light shirts. The string of words gently brushed aside and slowly picked up symbolizes the eternity of ebb and flow, tells the loneliness that mountains and rivers are hard to find, and expresses the reunion of youth as the first time.

That night, on the river bank, on the dock where the guests saw off, in the quiet moonlight, the boat waited in the river, waiting for its friends to leave. Looking back, my eyes are blurred with tears. That night, reeds twisted in the wind and frost, cutting the moon shadow into a broken jade river, bit by bit.

The moon is like a hook calling the world of mortals, the strings are gently plucked and gathered, and the songs are lightly sung, but the tears are wet and red, sinking into the bottom of Xunyang River. A pipa, scattered at the intersection of the stars and the moon in the river, is a farewell of a river and a lifetime empty house. My eyebrows are low, I believe in my hands, I gather gently and rub slowly. I will repeat my wailing. Yuan Yin has shed tears, and I frown at the peak and sigh with resentment. Some troubles are paid to the sound of the piano. Who can listen when the string is broken? The string is heartbroken, and the tears are blurred.

Looking back at the north, maple leaves are booming, but in this southern scenery, only the wind has defeated the reeds and the catkins have gone. Pipa sound bleak autumn wind, autumn moon soaked in the room. Looking back at the sky and recalling the elegance of the past, every time I lean back, I have nothing to say except blowing a soul-killing song. However, the northern country is like a distant dream, only lingering at the pillow in the middle of the night, and the taste of sorrow is known between the eyebrows. Only the pipa is in my heart. Pipa sound, few bosom friends, pipa sound, tears into spots, a blue heart to understand, old grievances and new worries a bosom friend to pick up.

Late autumn, autumn sounds and autumn flowers are all in Qiu Jiang, and we meet in this southern flower-falling season. In this desolate and bleak river, how can you say "it was a brief encounter"? That long pipa turned into a wonderful work of writing history, which awakened dreams in the exile of years.

2. Pipa extension I am a guest, traveling in Xunyang River at night, and the maple leaves and rushes rustle in autumn.

I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music. Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.

We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left. We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.

We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again. However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us.

... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings. Every string is a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life.

She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit. She brushes the strings, twists them slowly, sweeps them and plucks them, first "Nishang" and then "Six Yao".

Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets. Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade.

Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, and the spring water is hard to swallow. The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop.

The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice. A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons.

Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk. The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river.

She tied it thoughtfully on the rope, stood up and smoothed her clothes, serious and polite. Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill.

[Tomb of Frogs (Hama)] and mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name was recorded on the musician's class list. Her art even attracted the appreciation of experts, and her beauty attracted the envy of all major dancers.

How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song. The silver comb inlaid with shells was broken by her rhythm, and the bloody skirt was stained with wine.

Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention. Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared.

Lengma was at the door, so at last she gave her wife to a businessman. Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago.

She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, with no companions except the bright moon and cold water. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears.

Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder. We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? ! A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile.

Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year. My residence is near the town by the river, low and humid, and the house is surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes.

What can you hear here in the morning and evening? ? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing. I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining.

Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, which are very ugly. Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music.

Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. Translate the travel notes of pipa for you. ... she was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder.

Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces. But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.

The poem is divided into two parts, the first ten sentences actively imitate the sound. The sound of the piano curled up, soft and delicate, as if children were whispering.

Suddenly, the sound of the piano became high and fierce, just like a brave soldier flying into the enemy line. Then the sound of the piano changed from rigid to soft, and the ups and downs echoed.

At this time, the sky is clear and sunny, and there are several white clouds floating in the distance and catkins floating nearby. They are floating, elusive, but intriguing. Suddenly, birds are singing and chirping, and the quiet environment is replaced by noisy scenes.

Among the flapping birds, a phoenix flies high and sings a long song. This aloof phoenix, unwilling to associate with all the birds, struggled to climb and finally fell.

Here, there seems to be other sustenance besides showing the ups and downs of the piano sound with visual metaphors. Related to the following sentences, such as "wet clothes and tears", probably contains the poet's lament about his situation.

The phrase "wet clothes" is quite similar to "this Jiujiang official". "My blue sleeves are wet" in Pipa, but the latter is expressed directly and clearly. The last eight sentences are about my feelings and reactions when listening to the piano, which set off the beauty of the piano sound from the side.

This kind of emotional intensity is really unbearable.

3. Change Bai Juyi's Pipa Trip into an 800-word narrative. Big brother and big sister help me for ten years next year. I was demoted to Jiujiang Sima.

One night in the second autumn, I went to Songpukou to see my partner off and heard someone playing the pipa on the boat. The voice jingled in the capital, full of charm. Ask that person, only to know that she was a geisha in Chang 'an. He studied pipa with two famous artists, Cao and Mu. As she grew older, her beauty declined, so she had to become a businessman's wife.

I told her to set the wine and let her play some songs to her heart's content. She finished playing and was very sad.

Tell about the happiness of youth; But as always wandering in the center of the rivers and lakes! Being demoted to Beijing for two years, his expression is quiet and content with the status quo. After listening to her words, I felt the taste of being relegated tonight, so I wrote this long poem for her, with a total of 6 12 words (according to the convention, the whole poem is 6 16 words), which is called Pipa Xing.

In the tenth year of Yuanhe, Yu moved to Sima, Jiujiang County. Next autumn, people will see them off at Pukou, and those who hear the ship playing the pipa in the middle of the night will hear the sound of Kyoto.

Ask him, Ben Chang 'an advocates women and tastes pipa in Mu and Cao Ershan; Old age is fading, and I am committed to being a wife. Then he ordered wine and asked Aauto Quicker to play some songs.

Quba Ran Min. I told myself that I was happy when I was young, but now I am drifting away and wandering between rivers and lakes.

After two years as an official, I feel very comfortable. I didn't feel moved until the evening.

Because of long sentences and songs, every 612 words are called pipa xing. In the evening, I said goodbye to my friends by Xunyang River. Maple leaves are in full bloom, rustling in the golden wind.

The master got off the horse and walked into a friend's boat. He picked up the wine to drink, but there was no music to entertain him. In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn.

I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music. I'm glum and drunk, and I'm ready to leave miserably. When I was leaving, the boundless river was immersed in the bright moon.

Suddenly I heard the sound of pipa floating on the water. The host forgot to go home and the guests didn't want to get up.

Quietly asked who was playing the pipa, and the pipa stopped, but there was no wording when I wanted to speak. Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.

We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left. We followed the melody, asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.

Get close to the boat and let someone else pick you up. Add wine, light a lamp, and set a banquet.

After repeated calls, she was willing to walk out of the cabin, holding the pipa in her hand and covering half her face. Invite to meet near the moving boat and summon more wine and lanterns to start our party again.

However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us. Twisting the spindle and plucking the strings, I plucked them two or three times, but they didn't play into music. They used to be full of feelings.

Every string is lamenting, every sound is meditating, as if telling a person's unsatisfied life experience. His eyebrows are low, and he keeps playing and playing, telling all the infinite sadness. ... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.

Every string is thought-provoking, and every note is thought-provoking. It seems that he has been frustrated all his life. She frowned and bent her fingers, then started her music and talked about endless things in your heart.

Quietly gathering, gradually twisting, wiping and picking, first playing "Nishang" and then playing "Liuyao". The thick strings are noisy, like a storm, and the thin strings are cut, like a child's whisper. It's so noisy, a mess of beads, all tracts. How hard it is to cross the flower bottom-how fluently it calls and how hard it is to swallow the spring water under the ice! When the running water freezes, it also freezes the strings of the pipa, and the black boy freezes, and the sound is temporarily suspended.

Others reveal a kind of sadness and hatred hidden in their hearts. There is no sound at this time, but it is more impulsive than people with sound. Suddenly a silver bottle exploded and water slurry rushed in. Suddenly, a group of soldiers came out, and their swords and guns roared.

Gently and slowly approach, then wipe and pick, initially after "Nishang" and "Liuyao". Big strings are noisy like rain, and small strings are serious like words.

In the buzz, whisper-and then the noise, the pearl landed on the jade plate. Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, and spring water flows along the beach.

By checking its cold touch, this string seems to be broken. Let's have a rest. The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.

With a stream of water, a silver vase suddenly broke and the soldiers raised their swords and guns. After the bullet is finished, the string is plucked across the center of the string, and the four strings make a unified sound, as if tearing silk.

Nothing was said between the east and the west, but there was a silver wave of autumn moon shining in the middle of the river, which was carefully drawn at the end of the song, and the four strings were ringing like tears.

The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river. Doubt swallowed the dial and put it on the string. I adjusted my clothes and stood up respectfully.

She complained, "Originally, she was a girl from Beijing and lived near the Ranling. Carefully put it on the strings, tidy up the clothes and gather the guests.

Said, "This is the capital girl, who lives at the foot of Toad Mountain in her parents' house. At the age of thirteen, he learned to play the pipa, and his name was cancelled in the first part of Jiao Fang.

The performance of Quyu was well received by the composer, and her makeup was combed, which often caused Qiu Niang's jealousy. She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians.

Song often teaches excellent talents, and her beauty is the envy of all the leading dancers. Teenagers in Wuling mountain area, fighting for the upper reaches, gave a song and got countless Wuling Shu brocade.

Beating the time, I broke the cloud grate on my head and ate nectar and splashed my red skirt. How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song.

The cloud grate on the head is broken, and the red skirt turns over the wine. Laugh this year, laugh next year, and spend a few autumn nights and spring quietly; My brother joined the army, my aunt left this world, and ruthless time took away her beautiful face.

Laughter came back this year, the autumn moon and spring breeze have passed, and she didn't notice; My brother joined the army and my aunt died. Night after night passed and her beauty disappeared! The cars and horses in front of the door are getting thinner and thinner. I married a businessman and followed him here. Businessmen only care about profits, not parting. Last month, they went to Fuliang to buy tea for business.

There was a lot of traffic in front of the door, and the old man married a businessman. Businessmen value profits. A month ago, they went to Fuliang to buy tea.

I was left at the mouth of the river, alone in this empty boat house. Moonlight around the boat Bai Rushuang, the river is so cold. In the middle of the night, I suddenly dreamt about my childhood, and my face was full of tears. I woke up crying and became more and more sad.

..... "Go to Jiangkou to keep an empty boat, and the moon will sail around the boat in cold water. Dreaming at night, young, awakened by her hot tears. "

Once I felt sorry after listening to the pipa, but I was even more embarrassed after listening to these words. It is also irrational people wandering in the distance, meeting together, so what if they were unfamiliar before! I feel sorry for hearing the pipa. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder.

We are the same person who indulged in depravity at the Cape, so why meet each other? I began to bid farewell to Beijing last year, relegated to Xunyang, and my illness continued. Xunyang is a deserted and remote place, where there is no music and orchestral music can't be played all year round.

4. Ten years after Pipa Star rewrote modern Chinese 750 yuan, I was demoted to Sima of Jiujiang County.

One day in the autumn of the following year, I was seeing off guests at Songpukou, and at night I heard someone playing the lute on the boat. Listen to that sound, jingle bells, with the popular rhyme of Kyoto.

Ask about this person, who turned out to be a singer in Chang 'an, and once studied under two pipa masters, Mu and Cao. Later, she got old, retired and married a businessman.

So I ordered someone to set the wine and asked her to play a few songs happily. After she finished playing, she looked a little blue. She talked about the joy of childhood, but now she is wandering, haggard and wandering between rivers and lakes.

After leaving Beijing for two years, I had a very relaxed and enjoyable life. Now I am moved by this man's words, and I feel that I was demoted that night. So I wrote a song for her, * * * 6 16, entitled Pipa Trip.

On autumn night, I went to Xunyang Jiangtou to see off a returning guest, and the autumn wind blew the maple leaves and reeds rustling. My guests and I dismounted from the boat to bid farewell and drank useless music.

If you don't drink well, it will be even sadder. You left, and the river reflected the bright moon at night. Suddenly I heard the crisp sound of pipa on the river; I forgot to return, and the guests didn't want to leave.

Find the sound source and ask who is playing the pipa. Pipa stopped for a long time but nothing happened. We brought the boat closer and invited her out to meet; Tell the servant to add more wine, and then set the banquet under the lamp.

It was a long time before she came out slowly, holding the pipa in her arms and covering her face half. Tighten the piano shaft, pluck the strings and try to play a few times; Form is very affectionate before it becomes a tune.

The sad sound of the strings suggests meditation; It seems to be telling the frustration of her life; She kept her head down and kept playing; Tell the infinite past in your heart with the sound of the piano. Close it gently, twist it slowly, wipe it and pick it.

Play "Colorful Feather" at the beginning and then "Liuyao". The big string is long and noisy, like a storm; Xiaoxian is gentle and quiet, as if someone is whispering.

Noise and tangles are played alternately; Like a string of beads falling from a jade plate. Pipa sounds like a smooth birdsong under a flower for a while, and then it sounds like a difficult, low and intermittent sound of water flowing under the ice.

It seems that the cold and astringent pipa sound of the spring began to condense, and the sound of poor condensation gradually stopped. Like another kind of sadness and hatred secretly breeds; At this time, it is more touching than the sound.

Suddenly, it seems that the silver bottle broke into the water and splashed; Like armored cavalry fighting with swords and guns. At the end of the song, she aimed at the center of the strings and parted them; The roar of four strings seems to tear the cloth.

People from the East Ship and the West Ship listened quietly; I saw Bai Yue reflected in the middle of the river. She thoughtfully put the pick away and inserted it on the strings; Finishing clothes still looks solemn.

She said I was a famous singer in Beijing. My hometown is in Ling Ran, southeast of Chang 'an. Learn to play pipa at the age of thirteen; My name was included in the first lineup of Jiao Fang Philharmonic Orchestra.

Every song makes the art masters gasp in admiration; Every time I make up Chengdu, I am envied by my fellow geisha. Rich children in Kyoto compete to offer color; I don't know how much red yarn I collected after playing a song.

The silver grate in the hammer head is often broken when it is struck; I don't regret that the red skirt is stained with wine. Spent year after year in laughter and farce; Autumn goes and spring comes, and good times are wasted.

My brother joined the army, and my sister died at home, which has been ruined; As time goes by, I get old and my skin color fades. Cars and horses in front of the door reduce diners; Youth is gone, so I have to marry a businessman.

When businessmen value profits more than feelings, they tend to leave easily; He went to Fuliang to do tea business last month. He left, leaving me alone at the mouth of the river; The autumn moon accompanied me around the cabin, and the autumn water was cold.

In the middle of the night, I often dream that I had a good time when I was young; I woke up crying in my dream, and my face was stained with tears. Listening to the cry of pipa, I have shook my head and sighed; It makes me sad to hear her talk again.

We are all sad people who have fallen to the end of the world; When we meet today, why should we ask if you have met before? Since I left the bustling capital Chang 'an last year; He was relegated to Xunyang River and often fell ill. Xunyang this place is desolate and remote without music; You can't hear orchestral instruments all year round.

Living in a low-lying and humid place on the Ganjiang River; Yellow reeds and bitter bamboo surround the first house. What can you hear here sooner or later? Full of sad cries of cuckoo apes.

Riverside flowers, as good as Qiu Jiang moonlit night; I can't help it I often drink wine alone. Are there no folk songs and village flutes here? It's just hoarse and harsh.

Tonight, I listened to you play the pipa and spoke your mind, just like hearing Yue Xian's refreshing. Please don't refuse to sit down and play another song; I want to write a new poem "Pipa" for you.

Moved by my words, she stood for a long time; Turn around and sit down, then tighten the strings and dial the urgent tone. Sadness is no longer like the sound just now; People here are hard of hearing, hiding their faces and crying.

Which of you shed the most tears? My tears of Jiangzhou Sima soaked my blue skirt! Bai Juyi's original Pipa Trip is selected from Bai's Changqing Collection. The author introduces Bai Juyi (772~846), whose name is Lotte. In his later years, he was also known as Xiangshan laity and Xinzheng native of Zhengzhou, Henan Province. He was a great realistic poet in China in Tang Dynasty. His poems have a wide range of themes, diverse forms and plain language, and are known as "Poet Saint" and "Poet King".

Official to Hanlin bachelor, Zuo Zanshan doctor. Up to now, there are Bai's "Changqing Collection", and the representative works include Song of Eternal Sorrow, Charcoal Man, Pipa Travel and so on.

5. Autumn night of high school composition "Rewriting Pipa".

Maple leaves and reed flowers in the cold wind are flying and hovering in the air. Bai Juyi, who was demoted to Jiangzhou Sima, reluctantly took a bus to Xunyang Ferry with his friend Jiang, who was passing by, and said goodbye to each other.

The waving hand stopped in the wind, and the tears in the eyes were faintly visible. A thousand words can't tell you everything about your country and people.

Jiang looked at his friend's haggard back, unable to restrain his unbearable feelings, and invited Bai Juyi to bid farewell to the ship. With great hospitality, Bai Juyi jumped off his horse and pointed to the ferry and said, "I can meet a hero like you in my life, even if I am demoted!" Never say goodbye today, I wonder when we can meet again? "In the boat, two people drink a toast, but there are thousands of words stuck in the throat.

Relatively speechless, the wine in the cup turns into the sadness of parting ... There is always a difference when you say goodbye thousands of miles away. Bai Juyi was about to lead a horse when he heard a burst of tears, and the sound of a string slipped across the river, piercing the sky and penetrating into the eardrum.

Suddenly, all his feelings seemed to freeze. Jiang was also attracted by the new music.

Seeing Brother Bai's meditation, I couldn't help but invite him again: "Why don't you appreciate such a wonderful sound of silk and bamboo and say goodbye!" Bai Juyi boarded the ship again. The two whispered to the place where the music floated: "Excuse me, master pianist, can you come to the boat to talk?" There was no reply, and the sound of silk and bamboo came to an abrupt end.

At this time, the two ships have quietly approached. Jiang Bai poured the wine, lit the oil lamp and gave a banquet, ready to invite the bomber to speak.

Standing at the bow of the boat, Jiang sincerely praised: "It was really a mountain stream just now. I wonder if you can give it to me? " After a moment's silence, a woman, like Yingying in the clouds and Chun Yan, whispered, "My concubine lives in seclusion and lives alone at night, so it is inconvenient to meet each other. I hope you can forgive me. " Upon hearing this, the two men were speechless for a moment.

Bai Juyi walked forward persistently and invited her earnestly: "I just heard my wife play the pipa, and her skills are perfect." The sadness in the song seems to be a portrayal of my life in the next place. If I guess correctly, my wife and I are in the same boat. Why don't you come and talk! " A little hectares.

A middle-aged woman came out from under the canopy. She covered half her face with a pipa in her hand.

In the silhouette, I can see that his sideburns are floating clouds, his eyebrows are frowning slightly, and his eyes are shy. Although Xu Niang is half-aged, her charm still exists.

The face of deja vu is vaguely full of melancholy and helplessness. After the woman sat down, she held the lute in her hand, brushed her fingers and turned the spindle.

After three or two attempts, there will be infinite goodwill. Bai Juyi and Jiang looked at each other and couldn't help saying, "We can feel her feelings, even before she played."

Gradually, women are completely immersed in music. She covered her head and swept the strings for a while, then rubbed the fingers of the roller.

The voice is sad and thoughtful, as if telling the misfortune of his life. Striking, manipulating and fiddling with the strings, she heartily played the artistic conception of the famous songs "Nishang" and "Liu Yao".

The big strings are noisy, and the sound is heavy and long, such as a shower; The small string is cut, and the sound is urgent and thin, such as whispering, as if the round bead falls into the jade plate, making a melodious and crisp sound. In an instant, music becomes sad, like a dead spring under the ice.

Gradually, the music became deeper and deeper, and the strings seemed to solidify. It's cold and quiet all around.

All the voices stopped for a while. Pipa girl raised her eyebrows slightly and sighed lightly, and finally melted the hidden resentment into the music and poured it out ... Suddenly, countless strings were played, making a clear and magnificent sound.

It's like a silver bottle bursting, splashing, and screaming like an iron horse spelling out a sword. At this time, the female plucker suddenly scratched in the middle of the piano groove, and the four strings rang together, giving off a sharp echo like tearing silks and satins ... Bai Juyi and Jiang returned to reality from their musical emotions and experienced a long process.

Before they could speak, the thoughtful pipa girl had put the plectrum on the string. She got up and adjusted her clothes, and her swaying expression just now turned into sadness and bitterness.

She poured out her tragic story. I used to be a singer in Beijing, living under the frog mausoleum near Qujiang, Chang 'an.

Smart and studious since childhood. At the age of thirteen, he learned to play the pipa, ranking first in the teaching workshop. The woman's eyes were blurred, and after a moment of meditation, she continued: I was gorgeous at that time.

Once dressed up, other sisters are inevitably jealous. The princes and grandchildren rushed to give me property.

It is often a song, and there are countless red songs. They were intoxicated by the pipa I played.

Some took off their precious ornaments and beat them until they were broken; Some held a banquet in the carnival to tease, so rude that they spilled wine all over and stained their skirts ... After a while, the woman's bitter tone was full of regret: time passed like this, and the life of indulging in money quickly consumed her youth. I am old, my complexion is poor, and my family is cold.

Later, I married a businessman and lived a very rich life. He sold tea to Fuliang last month and has not heard from him since.

It's sad that I'm alone with an empty boat. Last night, I dreamed of going back to youth, drinking nonsense and crying.

Playing the pipa is just to relieve the sadness in my heart, and I never want to disturb them both ... Jiang got up and handed it to me: "We are very lucky, and it is really fate that the moon can soak in cold water in the middle of the night to enjoy such an artistic conception." Say that finish look around but see white boss's reaction.

Looking back, I saw Bai Juyi sitting in a corner lost in thought and waiting for a while. In an instant, tears rolled down.

Perhaps to hide his inner feelings, he suddenly got up and walked to the bow, looked up and shouted, "We are both unhappy-we will meet at the end of the day." We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? "Say that finish, I turned to the woman and knelt down to the ground:" I left Beijing last year and was exiled to Xunyang, where I have been living in seclusion.

In this remote and humid place, there are only the sad cries of cuckoos and apes all day long. I haven't heard the sound of silk and bamboo strings for a year.

Occasionally there are folk songs and flutes, but they are dumb and awkward. Listen to the pipa music you played tonight, just like Yue Xian's ears, suddenly opened.

Please don't refuse, sit down and play another song. I want to write a lyric for you, called Pipa. "

The woman was so grateful that she was speechless for a long time. Full of gratitude and the joy of meeting a bosom friend made her feel surging and full of thoughts.

Sit still, tighten the strings and the melody will start. But the melody is very complicated, sad and full of sadness, which seems to be very different from the music just played.

The ship was full of listeners.

6. Senior two language, classical Chinese, Pipaxing's third paragraph of extended prose] Jiangnan misty rain Pipaxing

1 100 years ago, Bai Juyi moved to Sima, Jiujiang County and lived by Poyang Lake. One autumn night, the poet was awakened by the sound of pipa. Following the pipa, the poet found himself, and Poyang Lake shed two lines of clear tears. The sound of the piano and tears sank to the bottom of the lake, and the noisy strings can still be heard here after thousands of years.

I was awakened by the sound of pipa and walked by the lake. The sound of a thousand years ago seemed to be in my ear, as if it were yesterday.

At that moment, Bai Juyi walked on the singer's string, and the lute sounded in the poet's poem, and the plucker twisted it gently and slowly. The people on the string were drunk and unhappy, and the pipa sounded in my heart and disappeared into the poem. Only Jiangzhou Sima was left in front of the case, and tears were wet.

In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn. I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.

New wine, tea in front of us, white horses that are not drunk but want to get drunk, birds in the lake and new buds by the lake are playing tricks on the drunken eyes of unknown poets. Are you there? Are you drunk? Are you leaving? Are you awake? The poet and the autumn wind, ask and answer. The autumn rain in the south of the Yangtze River tears the sky and the earth. The poet's glass can be lifted, but it can't be put down.

Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon. We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.

For thousands of years, stone lions have been standing by the lake. Do you remember the white Sima? Besma doesn't even remember you. That day, the poet who came home late was really drunk, and the liquor burned his chest. In his chest, there is only ambition that is hard to pay, and the liquor blurs his eyes. In his eyes, there is only a vague figure.

Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder. We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? .

Pipa is not far away, but spring has come.

Poetry has flavor. Poetry at the moment has the fragrance of wet grass. As soon as the poet arrived, Qingxi Springs all over the mountain began to sing, and the sky was mighty, and the wind was looking for chapters and sentences. The poet stretched out his hand and pulled out a new poem. There were too many poems, and the poets began to scatter casually. I followed, and when I leaned over, it was an eternal classic.

There are too many poems, and the poet has built a home for them.

Bai Juyi Caotang is a paradise for poetry. Late in the morning, the poet lay here high and stretched himself, which was actually very poetic.

I sat alone in front of the thatched cottage, waiting for the poet and the late spring of Bai Sima.

The pipa is still there, and I clearly hear the cheerful plucking sound, which is more urgent than the poet's footsteps, more relaxed than the poet's mood, and more romantic than the poet's poems.

The poet came back, with poems, wine and flowers.

A flower, a glass of wine and a poem can't tell who is more intoxicating and who is more brilliant. I can't tell who will flourish in my fingers and who will spread for longer. There are flowers and wine, and Bai Sima is drunk in front of the horse of the poem, and the poem is speechless. Poetry is the poet's initial and final destination, and poetry is the poet's eternal spring.

Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music. Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. I will write a Long song about guitar. ..

7. Rewriting Pipa into Prose Yesterday, I found the wonderful music Pipa.

Get drunk when you smell it, get carried away and get lost. Then I was addicted to it all night, and I got a few words.

I was overjoyed. I recommend this * * * award. A few drops of beads slipped down.

Inadvertently took away the soul of the ear. Careless and melodious, knocking on the heart.

Whispering with tears, crushing the tears of the whole heart. Walking in the moonlight, I accidentally fell below a few bitterness.

Empty poetry, said around the sigh, looking for a rest, lingering. Put your eyebrows down and play. Can you really play out everything in your heart? Life is just a grain of dust.

Is it turned into dirt or attached to objects? Is it dissolved in water or floating in the air? Every gesture is written with the secret of vicissitudes. The sadness of the old man in Xunyang is coming from a thousand-year-old dream, which has sounded my lingering sadness. I pity others and myself, and my tears are wet.

When I hear the cry of a dream and think of a memory, my body is easily buried in the crisp Miri, Malaysia that makes me want to cry. Involved in this tactile vortex, I have to forget the fingers of time and indulge in a verve fairyland.