A beautiful collection of essays

Literary translation is an art. The translator reproduces the artistic image and style of the original text in another appropriate and natural language, while the beautiful prose embodies another artistic conception. I have carefully collected beautiful essays for everyone to enjoy and learn!

A collection of beautifully written essays: I can't live better.

We were sixteen or seventeen years old that year, young and ignorant.

You are a tall and handsome boy. You are smart, but you are fun-loving. At that time, many girls liked you, and I was one of them. I am a girl who only knows how to read sage books. She is traditional, shy, intelligent and sensible.

You have a heavy heart. When everyone is actively preparing for the college entrance examination, you are still flying like the wind on campus. Sometimes I haven't seen you in class for a few days, and sometimes I hear that you are with a girl.

You bet your youth on tomorrow, you squandered your youth and lost the bright future you should have. I study hard, look at you quietly and feel sorry for you. But I can't say or do anything, because it was a traditional era and I was still a shy person.

I always thought you were a cynical and bohemian person. But that night changed my mind.

In the evening self-study class, a classmate told me that someone was looking for you. When I came out, it was you. You took me to the fence outside the school gate, you put me on the fence, your face was close to me, and there was a faint smell of wine.

A collection of beautifully written essays: every life can be fragrant.

A trace of fragrant wind glides across the hairline, birds singing in meatballs jump in my ears, small red flowers frolic in front of me, the restless footsteps of grass jump back to the earth, and everything recovers. It turns out that these common scenery around us can be so beautiful and harmonious, so people may be obsessed with the fast-paced life. What have we overlooked? May be too advanced entertainment facilities blinded our eyes? We even turn a blind eye to such a generous gift from nature! It's a great honor to read the book "Every life can be fragrant", which precipitated my frivolous and fast-paced thoughts, returned to the original tranquility, examined my life and enjoyed a different kind of beauty.

Wait like a flower

There is only one reason for success: "Hands above the head", and actions are far greater than ideals. We must find our own direction and orientation, and we must put the roots of life into the thick soil. If we omit the soil, we may live for a while, but we will never make the tree of life evergreen. Slow success is actually a kind of happiness, and the biggest secret of success is persistence. Like Qi Baishi's painting shrimp, Xu Beihong's painting horse and Huangzhou's painting donkey, these great men who only do one thing and make flowers miss them, we really admire them. Flowers in Harbin, the spring city, can bloom overnight. Just calm down and wait slowly. When the time is right, they will bloom collectively to avoid frostbite. Gou Jian, King of Yue, is willing to be a cow and a horse for Fu Cha, King of Wu, relying on perseverance, that is, endurance. May we keep a good attitude, wait like flowers and lay a solid foundation for success!

Happiness you don't know.

Cowherd and Weaver Girl, the beautiful love story of seven fairies in Yong Dong; The lingering love story of Xu Xian, the white snake and the shemale; Xiang Yu and Yu Ji's generous and tragic love story; The love story of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai becoming butterflies has been loved by poets, writers, painters, directors and other people from all walks of life for thousands of years. Perfect love always touches the softest part of our hearts and makes us happy. Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night. Life is precious, but love is more expensive. The furthest distance in the world is not between life and death, but when I stand in front of you, you don't know that I love you. If the world loses love, how many years will our civilization go backwards! How monotonous our life is!

Love is beautiful, and what is better than love is the yearning for the heart. Life is so fragile that love is most afraid of being too late, so when you can love, you must love twice as much. When lovers are carried away by happiness, it is often the most common greeting, and small details in love life can often bring unexpected happiness. Love is like a lock, you don't need it. After a long time, you can't even open the original key. Use is the truest and deepest love. Don't forget that being needed by the other party is also a kind of happiness! Happiness is around us, perhaps it is too dull and neglected by us. It is sweet to grasp the little happiness in life that you don't know yet and add points to each other's lives! May love make you richer and more beautiful.

Open a flower of your own for others

Solitude and self-admiration, silently waiting for withering, can not help but regret, can not help but be boring. Open a flower of your own for others, and many strange hearts will be close to you; Open your own flower for others, and spring will stay in your flower. Just like Lin Qingxuan's lilies, one lily after another keeps spreading and expanding, which finally stops lovers. Open your own flower for others, and you may get a beautiful big garden. When you receive the warmth of others' love, life has taught you to turn this warmth into a torch to illuminate others. Don't forget that this is the highest return of life to love. Goodwill and sincerity are the cleaners of life. Only with them can you feel warm and beautiful, and you can get sunshine and good luck without shelter. Help others with a sincere heart, and your life will be more brilliant, away from loneliness and cold. Bloom for others and bring rich fragrance to yourself! Helping others makes us taller, firmer and richer.

If you can't dance, play the piano.

It is said that this is the favorite epitaph of all British people: "If you can't dance, play the piano;" Singing without playing the piano; Listen if you can't sing; Let your heart sing happily in love; If your heart stops, let your soul continue to dance between heaven and earth. " The beautiful little girl did not give up in the face of illness, and brought different happiness to her friends at the birthday party in different ways. What a wonderful past, it should not be a bondage, but a rope to pursue a better future. Like dandelion, blowing away the white of dreams is actually the withering of a flower. When God closes a door for us, he must have left a window for us. There are tragedies, comedies, successes, pains and joys in life. You can't just open a window and see the scenery. "It's hard to be suspicious, but there is still a village." When encountering setbacks, think of heroes like Nick Vujicic, Wei Liu and Helen Keller! Let's take a turn and think differently. We are still happy. If we can't dance, let's play the piano. We can still live a perfect and happy life.

Stay away from fast food culture, calm down and read some sweet articles with your heart! Enjoy the ocean of books and stroll in the paradise of books! Let the flowers float into your house; Let the first light of the sun shine all over your body; Let the author collide violently with your loving heart and find your soul mate; Let good books wash the soul, enhance the ideological realm, correct cognition and enjoy the beauty of reading!

A collection of beautifully written essays: the past is like smoke.

In the middle of the night, under the cool moonlight, wandering thoughts spread through time and space with the familiar melody. In the tiles deep in my memory, I touched the grass covered with flying dust and messy grass tips, revealing the lingering spiritual traces of the years. Sighing the depth of time, the footprints along the way, and the stories devoted to physical and mental interpretation are all drifting away in the world of mortals.

Through the wax seal deep in my mind, the sweet and sour agarwood exudes, and the charm of Ran Ran is just around the corner. Those flames extinguished in the depths of the world of mortals are still rising with graceful smoke clouds in the residue, like dreams, playing the strings of memories.

No matter how full and round the real life is, there is always a little gap in my mind, showing an old movie that can't be played smoothly. That day, that time, that scene, that heart, that love, all reappear in intermittent pictures. I don't know when the movie player is out of control, the mute button fails, and the pause button is invalid. Whether we are willing to face it or not, we can't stop the scenes.

I have traveled all over Qian Shan, experienced countless prosperity, experienced career lows, and accepted setbacks in love. I have had a lot of pride and humbleness, as well as those rash, hasty, childish and mature, calm and calm moments. One plot a day, one story a road, one chapter a chapter, are superimposed on the journey of life, and the past years are interpreted into countless memories.

Silent nights, lonely moments, thanks to the past events that make us chew repeatedly, time becomes less boring. Because there are bitter and sweet memories, the quiet time has a strong charm, as prosperous as the sea, as beautiful as birds singing and willows singing, as if there is Qianshan in a black dress, the moonlight in front of the window has gone through countless cycles, and the locked diary has been opened again. Light a cigarette and drink a glass of wine. When you are slightly drunk, those deeply buried thoughts will sprout and bloom into a delicate and fragrant flower.

I once hollowed out my internal organs for a vigorous love; I once wasted my youth for a great dream; I used to go through fire and water for what I thought was meaningful. I always thought that youth was a wasted capital, and I always thought that I could ride high and big. However, sometimes no matter how you roll, you can't step into the city of dreams, and regret becomes the most beautiful arc across your life.

Perhaps, those regrets in life can arouse the interest of the cerebral cortex more than those perfect stories, and even do not need any pictures and music to create an atmosphere. Unconsciously, people fall into it again and again, hoping to continue those chapters that have long been out of print again and again. If we hadn't passed each other at the beginning, if we didn't care at that time, if those hardships were slowly added with sugar, water and everything that suits our taste.

Perhaps, it is with this intoxication that memories will occupy our time so arrogantly. In the morning exercise, under the moonlight, the beauty of the next session is nominal, and they don't want to bid farewell to the past scenes that have nothing to do with today. The years are fading, one story fills our life step by step, and time is drifting away, but it has left a long memory, dotted with the morning and evening of life. There will always be some moments of sunrise and sunset in those ordinary fireworks, which are entangled in the heart; On the way to Ma Pingchuan, there is always scenery around. Sometimes, I feel depressed, I lose my outlook for the future, but I can't forget my memories of the past.

People are constantly building, building skyscrapers, turning mountains into clouds, tilting or building slopes, and building sand dunes all their lives. No matter what height their life is ultimately based on, no matter whether their life is gorgeous or humble, it is admirable and full of stains. Looking back and overlooking the past, every brick, tile, grass and tree will clearly come into view. People who have been confused will suddenly be enlightened, and proud and happy people will light up their smiles again.

Flowers will wither in one season and snow will melt in a period of time. However, the past events in life, such as colorful flowers, will always be enchanting in memory, and those chilly days will always be bleak if they add insult to injury. Those that we can't forget for a long time are already strangers, those that burn our hearts and bones have long faded away, and the past and the present have long been separated into two days, but those related memories are as smooth and transparent as glass and will not fade in time.

Calendar page after page, Danshui River is full of thoughts, gardenias bloom season after season, once focused, once fickle, once resolutely turned around, once sleepless, once lost, those true, those stupid, those intoxicating moments are drifting away, but in my mind, so slim, so clear.

A beautiful collection of essays

Selected beautiful prose

A collection of beautiful essays. Prose generally describes the typical scenery, the profound experience and feeling of what you see or the scenery, and then expresses it. The following is a selection of beautiful essays I have carefully prepared for you. Welcome to reading.

Beautiful Prose Collection 1

Beautiful prose 1

Bodhi Wu Ye chaotic late autumn,

Bi Bo Han Xiao dyed his bald head.

The red chamber locks the dream and looks at it alone.

A glass of turbid wine relieves a thousand worries.

Real decadence turned into sadness.

Decadence had not become a fashion at that time, and the cultural circle had just finished a heated debate about humanistic spirit, mainly in the face of the increasingly materialistic modern society, when the original ideological and spiritual pillars continued to collapse, people began to feel at a loss and confused about tomorrow and themselves. At that time, scholars had a serious and heated discussion, while the children in the street looked at the crowd and traffic in the street blankly, walked coldly through the crossroads and merged into the crowd.

I am one of them. Sitting in the corner, looking at the person in front of you, laughing lazily. Unconsciously, the ashes of the city, as well as helplessness, helplessness, curse and resistance, have been integrated into life. I was eighteen that year. I do not love anyone. I feel old. I often sit by the roadside and watch the sunset. People say I look decadent.

Now even in rock and roll, there are few songs that directly resist social change and directly describe decadent and indulgent life. Is it because people are no longer confused and afraid of change? People rob money in high spirits. This argument soon became a thing of the past, and few people still remember it. We no longer doubt that change will bring any bad direction. We happily accept all new changes, so decadence has become a lifestyle and even fashion today. Bars, rock and roll, indulgence, everything that marks the difference have become fashionable.

/kloc-at the age of 0/8, I am a young man lost in the city and helpless in pain. So now I only have a weedy mind and a more chaotic struggle for the subtle relationship between people. No past strength, no doubt, no confusion, no heart.

The entanglements and contradictions between people hurt each other. This is loss, we are all fighting, we are bored to drill happiness and traps, everything is so helpless and desperate, decadence begins to weaken here, and we lose the power to change. There is no direction to escape. What do we have? Is it painful?

Real decadence turned into sadness.

Beautiful prose ii

This is the moment of winter rain.

God gave us a snow, but we chose a rain.

Winter rain, three days and three nights tirelessly knocked on my window, as thin as silk, as dense as a net, as thick as smoke. This is not winter in the north, but March in the south of the Yangtze River. I was drunk with yellow willow, drunk with green embankment, fattened the pool and lost my acacia. I don't know whose eyes were wet by the intermittent winter rain, but they covered the North China Expressway and forced the flight of the Capital Airport to stop. I'm anxious.

This is a real winter rain, a long-lost early winter rain. It once lived in the memory of many years ago, dripping into the thin neck of the open cotton-padded jacket collar, so cold, so cold; Drilling into the girl's fluffy braids is as smooth as touching hair oil. The girl throws her head and flies up pieces of water mist, which is cool and cool. It also unconsciously touched the white sneakers with holes, and stuck to the soles of the feet with smelly socks. It's annoying, really annoying. When we were at school, the rain still stopped on the road paved with sand, and it was wet in books that we could never finish reading, from the chilly branches to the roots of winter wheat.

In the face of winter rain, cities and asphalt roads are more beautiful and clean. The wheels rustled on the road at a constant speed. The splashing water seems to give the car wings to fly. Wipers are busy waving long arms. Don't panic, wait. On the sidewalk, an elderly couple walked hand in hand, wearing thick winter clothes and an elegant flower umbrella. It seems that there is only a stroll, and the car glides gently and throws it at them. Most of the traffic on the road is to send children to school, and the big schoolbags and colorful raincoats on the children's backs gather into a touching rainy scene in the early morning of the port city.

How I want to relax myself at this moment and walk to the seaside in the rain. This used to be the place where I worked for more than ten years. In the grand planning of the port city, in the hands of hardworking Lanshan people, a leisure, entertainment, business and high-grade business park covering an area of tens of thousands of acres rose in less than a year. The sculpture of the tall white sailboat looks at the Pacific Ocean in the distance, and tourists from all directions come in droves. In the evening, the nameless town on the coast of the Yellow Sea is waiting to rise, blue.

Light rain "rustling sand", this is the moment of winter rain, isn't it also the moment when Lanshan people concentrate on accelerating development?

Beautiful prose 3

I like reading poems, whether at home or abroad, whether ancient or modern. Stylistically speaking, I like reading it, whether it is bold or delicate, romantic or realistic. Because I think poetry is the embodiment of the spirit of nature, the rhythm of society and the expression of people's true feelings and thoughts. I like poetry, like reading poetry, and over time, I also like to practice writing poetry. Classical poems, metrical poems, lyrics and new poems have all been studied and written; Although the writing is not good, I wrote it and tried it.

Fu Bixing, expressionism, reappearance and obscurity all want to try. After trying to use the previous realm theory and artistic conception theory, it seems to be both spiritual and ineffective. Finally, I believe that poetry does not come out of thin air, nor from books, but from the life of _ Zaitian Xinghua.

Having said that, I take some poems describing miners' lives as verification. The love of the miner's wife is about the things around her, which is the unique life in the mining area. It realized that the miner's wife longed for her husband to come home from work safely. It reproduces the wife's anxiety in expectation, and the anxious waiting makes the wife with good feelings sometimes fidget, sometimes leaning against the door, and sometimes looking at it from a distance.

Maybe a newly married young woman is waiting. They are newly married, and their passion for love has not subsided. Perhaps a mature eldest sister-in-law, the elders visit their neighbors' homes because of their feelings, the children study hard at school, and the men work hard underground.

A collection of beautiful essays ii

Selected Works of Beautiful Prose: My Years, My Forgotten Books

Pushing open the window, a chill came to my face, and I inadvertently recalled yesterday. Someone told me that tomorrow would be beginning of winter, but I didn't expect winter to be near.

However, I haven't sorted out some old things and said hello to some old friends. At this time, I sat at my desk again, not knowing what to record or who to ask, but day after day, it is the season of the year.

I remember last night, I came back to my dormitory very late and wandered around the cross street with my friends. There is nothing but the occasional noise from the car engine. I don't think there will be a third person who knows what I am doing or what I am looking for at that time. Perhaps, they don't understand, just as we don't know what the speeding car is busy with.

I just want to say that life is busy, maybe we can't really understand each other, or maybe, inadvertently, we will fly away like a car, leaving only a fiasco and saying goodbye on the eve of early winter.

Sometimes, I really feel that time passes quickly, just brush with time and it will be the end of the year; Sometimes, I feel that time passes slowly, and my wishes and longings, even a better life, will never come, no matter how time changes. Tap on the door of the fleeting time and look back on the lintel of the years. Yesterday's wind, today's song, although not back to the past, but the reflection of time is fiddling with the strings in my heart.

But this feeling is still a pale wait after all. Under the canopy, there are always some sentimental feelings in my memory. Want to mention, but can't find the beginning, want to forget, and can't find the dividing line between love and hate. In this way, countless dreams have been staged, which makes people happy and worried.

In the years of my life, the dream of who is who will never be finished, but in this season, the cold is no longer surging, maybe after three or two years, it will become an irrelevant past, clouds come and go, the people who should come will eventually come, and the people who should go will eventually leave.

Sitting in such a period of time today, I remembered what Bai Laimei said. If a person remembers what he agreed to in his last life, he will wait at the intersection and meet him even after all the hardships in his life.

In fact, missing always grows quietly in an invisible place. After many years, who will remember me and who will I remember? Yes, it never occurred to me that time is always ahead of us, and the stories left behind are kept in our memories. We have all become the group of late actors, outlining the growth process.

A dream-like souvenir, gently scattered on the desk, light footsteps are still on the road of chasing, vaguely bustling passing by, and finally can not leave too much leisurely time.

Time flies, time flies, is it because we have forgotten the existence of that year, so we will regret it hard in this season, which is actually not bad. Even if the years pass and open our hearts, I think I will comfort the past and leave a beautiful turn gently.

In a blink of an eye, the four seasons change like this, and it seems that the songs of growth have not been sung yet. In this distant and strange city, only when everything slows down can we remember the flowers and falls on the road. On this road, I am experiencing my own ups and downs.

No one can repeat my book, my years, and no one can tell it. In this winter, it is an experience and a life to make a cup of coffee, flip through and continue.

Do you have a good collection of essays?

Jingwei's Soft Moonlight and Brave Heart

Before the evening is over, I can vaguely see the moon climbing into the sky, revealing her charming and mysterious outline in the pink of fiery clouds, and secretly looking at the departing sun. Dragonflies fly across the sky in droves, and crickets and frogs sing in the distance, indicating that night is coming. Aha, yes, the night has come. ...

As the night fell slowly, the lost moon watched the last ray of sunshine disappear on the last hill. The stars at this time are no longer afraid. One or two, hundreds printed on the black and blue sky. In the whole world, only the moon is the brightest, and the stars are scattered in the sky that people can see and the farthest place bordering the ground. The bright moon is in the sky, and the moon cares for every child who admires her, giving her infinite care and full of happy moonlight. Scattered on the windowsill of thousands of families, sprinkled on the face of every sleeping child ... The moon is lonely, the stars only care about their own play, only the clouds accompany her, like clothes. The beautiful moon knows that she is just a little star in the vast universe. When the moon dozes off and dreams as usual, the rooster announces the dawn, the morning light is dim, and the east is bright during the day. The stars hurriedly pulled up the cloudy night of the moon and ran to the west. The moon looked at the east reluctantly and left angrily. How she wants to see the light of the sun! However, their fate is eternal separation. ...

Frogs and crickets are also shocked. They don't play cat and mouse with each other anymore. ...

Because the moon broke free from the shackles of the stars, tried to get close to the sun, was silent for thousands of years, and finally woke up in the moon's determination to give up everything! She went against the sky and ran to the sun. ...

Gradually ... gradually ... the stars ... the crickets ... the frogs were stunned. They can't see the moon with their eyes wide open. She burned in the hot embrace of the sun ... died with a smile ... Since then, the moon is no longer lonely, only the sun is lonely. ...