A poem about never forgetting your hometown

1. Tell others not to forget the poems in their hometown

1. When they are young, they leave home, but when they are old, the local accent remains unchanged.

2. The sound of flying in Yu Di has scattered people and filled Los Angeles with spring breeze. In this nocturne, everyone can't remember the national conditions. (Li Bai's "Smelling the flute in Los Angeles on a Spring Night")

3. but how much love has the inch-long grass won three Chunhui-Don Meng Jiao 4. I used to go, and the willows were reluctant; Today, when I think about it, it's raining-5. My heart flies away from the south clouds, and my shape follows the northern geese. The chrysanthemums planted under the fence in my hometown are several more open today?

6. It's a long night in the rain, and the residual lamp is lonely. Hometown is full of clouds and water, and it is not suitable for autumn to dream.

7. It is always a vague disappointment to hear the face of my hometown on a moonlit night. As if in the fog, wave goodbye. After parting, homesickness is a tree without rings, and it will never grow old-Xi Murong's Homesickness

8. Being a stranger in a foreign land, I miss my family twice every festive season. Think of the brothers body boarded up high, will also because of less than I have a regret.

9. people say that the sunset is the end of the world, and you can't see your home if you look at the end of the world. The castle peak is being affected by the castle peak, which covers my sight, the twilight clouds, and the castle peak.

1. When you die, you know that everything is empty, but you are sad to see Kyushu. Therefore, when the great song jun team regained the central plains of the day when the arrival of the day, you hold a the home fete ceremony, don't forget to tell me the good news!

11. It's a long night in the rain, and the residual lamp is lonely. Hometown is full of clouds and water, and it is not suitable for autumn to dream.

12. The young child asked by the hand, why is it too late to return? * * * Who struggles for time and wins the sideburns

13. The elegy can be wept, and the distant view can be angelica sinensis-HanYueFu folk songs. 2. Poems about missing hometown

Thinking about quiet nights

Tang Libai

so bright a gleam on the foot of my bed,

could there have been a frost already?.

lifting myself to look, I found that it was moonlight,

sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.

it's rainy

Tang Bai Juyi

it's foggy in Kesashige, where the mountains and rivers are deep.

the sound of the beach is more urgent in autumn, and the gorge is cloudy and cloudy.

I look at the clouds and cover my eyes, homesick for raindrops.

what will comfort you? Lai this north window piano.

cold food in the guest

Tang Lizhong

cold food in the second trip, homesick tears wipes.

the music and books are broken in the sky, and the peaches and plums are raining in the spring.

I have no mood when I want to drink, but I like to sing for a reason.

how many people are out of town.

Qiu Si on the riverbank

Tang Du Xunhe

Driving horses along the river, homesickness is born step by step.

raise the whip and wave the willow color, and you will lose the cicada sound.

autumn crops have a long road, and cold clouds are about the ancient city.

when the family is poor and rich, there is no land to return to farming.

seeing friends off on the river to the south

Tang Zhangqiao

Where homesickness accumulates, the world gathers turbulence.

the long shore is late, and the lake is wide and sails in autumn.

buy wine and go to the fishing house, divide the lights and go fishing.

When Xiaoxiang sees a wild goose, she should travel alone.

Homesickness

Tang Buxie

People in the north of Lubei have never returned the letter from Yunnan.

if you don't sweep the flowers in front of the court, who will climb the willows outside the door.

if you sit for a long time and sell silver candles, you will lose your face.

On a moonlit autumn night, Wan Li shines on the mountain.

homesickness in winter

Tang Zhouhe

The wild field began to be strict, and the sky was clear and the color was clear.

the trees are cold, birds are rare, and monks are rare in the mountains.

collect the snow from the window on the back of the day, and open the furnace to release the inkstone ice.

I suddenly returned to my old country, thinking of Xiling alone.

Yunmeng Old Town Looking in Autumn

Tang Rongyu

The legacy of the old country is there, and I want to visit the old city when I am on the scene.

once a person changes, a thousand years of water flows in vain.

The dream bamboo glows in the evening, and the Jingmen tree is in autumn.

a piece of cloud can't be dispersed, and I miss my homesickness from afar.

night work

Tang Gaoshi

The cold lights in the hotel stay up all night, and the guest's heart turns sad.

I miss my hometown for thousands of miles tonight, and I am worried about the Ming Dynasty for another year.

apricot flowers in my hometown

Tang Sikong map

Sending flowers and wine is a joy to open a new flower, and holding a cup on the left.

if you want to ask a cuttlefish and a glass of wine, why are you different?

homesickness outside the river

Tang Wei Zhuang

Every spring, a foreign land is sad, which Du Qu and Oriole can know.

I was even more heartbroken by the sunset on the river bank.

Looking from a distance

Tang Yuanzhen

His eyes are full of sad winter scenery, and there are many mangrove temples on one mountain.

Zhong Xuan is full of homesickness tears, and the water from Zhangshui flows eastward like a jade wave.

Poems about Three Villages

Tanggaoqu

Who doesn't miss the hometown pass between Qian Shan and Wanshan and Xuanche?

If you stay alone in the past, you will be afraid of hurting your peach and plum. 3. On the poem with the word "hometown"

I go forward. I weep till my tears are spent, I see a sail in the far sky.-Meng Haoran, lifting myself to look, I found that it was moonlight, sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.-Thoughts on a Quiet Night, Li Bai, and the water has brought you a touch of home, to draw your boat three hundred miles.-bidding a friend farewell at jingmen ferry (Tang), Li Bai, new Year only deepens my longing, Adds to the lonely tears of an exile.-"New Year's Work" (Tang Dynasty) Liu Changqing's wind is changing, the snow is changing, and the dream of breaking the hometown is not realized, so there is no such sound in the hometown.-"Sauvignon Blanc" (Qing Dynasty) Nalan Xingde's hometown is thinking thousands of miles tonight, and the frost is burning in the Ming Dynasty for another year.-"Except Night Work" (Tang Dynasty) Gao Shi you who have come from my old country, tell me what has happened there!.- Every festive season, I miss my family more.-on the mountain holiday thinking of my brothers in shandong (Tang) Wang Wei looks at Queyun to cover my eyes and is homesick for raindrops.-It's rainy and rainy. In Tang Bai Juyi travels for cold food, and homesickness tears wipes.-Where do guests eat cold food in Tang and Li, homesickness accumulates, and the world gathers turbulence.-Seeing friends off on the river, Tang Zhangqiao travels south, and when he leaves home, the local accent remains unchanged.-Returning home. 4. Poems about homesickness are better than homesickness, and they will be used tomorrow. Thank you for your help < P > for collecting and sorting out Hu Yu -3699. The following are 15 poems related to homesickness except Yu Guangzhong's Homesickness for your reference, hoping to help you.

16. I miss my hometown/Lu Er has been waiting for spring under the lamp for countless nights. When spring comes, flowers will open and think of my hometown ... Spring is waiting to slip past my hometown again and again. Fading away in the bitter memory of my hometown, the wind is always so light, and the rain is always the fragrance of apricot flowers in the fine mountains, which can overflow all the seasons of my life. Every time I open it, it is like an altar of osmanthus rice wine that is light and sweet, the struggling river that will never walk out, the pomegranate that will never grow on the branches bent by countless naughty feet, and my father's stern eyes ... I am the lightest and lightest smile planted by my father in my hometown. The worst seeds grow up and blossom in the salty soil soaked by their parents' sweat, and finally grow wings-flying away from home. Stay away from my father, stay away from the apricot blossoms blooming in the mountains at night, and walk out of the North Pass with difficulty-people who crawl out always want to stand back, and they will always be the mother of a peasant woman, who is in a hurry on the land, waiting for the whimsical suffering, waiting for the sunset, and standing upright in the dusk. My mother is enjoying poverty and looking forward to singing to her mother, but I dare not sing her. Whenever I sing her, I can't help crying. No matter how long my face is, I can't sing out my mother's feelings as light as wild chrysanthemum, as simple as mountain spring and as plain as apricot blossom. I don't know if I am far away from my hometown or my hometown. I don't know if I betrayed the land or the land betrayed the mountains. One day, I used my footstep to ring the stone road. One day, I used a brush to record the wrinkles on my father's face. One day, I didn't need a nation, and I didn't need bel canto to shout in the most primitive voice-mother! One day, I went to see if the handwriting on the bluestone on the mountainside had been blown away by the wind, and if the cry on the top of the mountain was still floating in the valley at the beginning of love. 1. The road to my hometown always reached my thoughts when I closed my eyes at night, and the road to my hometown was full of my childhood joys and sorrows. Sweet and sour.

Tears and smiling faces at this moment, I feel that no matter whether it was bitter or sweet, it is a melodious song in my memory, like a clear spring hometown road carrying my yesterday. Yesterday, I was ragged and running in the wind, chasing a smiling spring on a dirt road full of weeds. 2. I was homesick in the rain. The raindrops falling in the drizzle sky are just like the rain that a wanderer keeps missing his hometown. It must have washed out a clear village. The wheat waves rolled over a corner of the green tree in the dreams of the villagers, braving the smoke and imagining climbing to the top of his hometown. Father sat on the door of the old house and wiped off his forehead with the back of his hand to light a cigarette. I squinted and watched the rain dripping on the eaves and merging into a cheerful stream flowing to the green fields. 3 Sitting on the door of my hometown and watching the clouds rolling in the air, the blue sky of Shuwa became deeper and deeper because of the more clouds. On the apricot tree with a thick bowl in front of the door, a donkey was chewing grass. I don't know which donkey called out. The donkey also raised its neck and called out a white rabbit. White as snow suddenly jumped and stopped from me. A few chickens ran out of the grass screaming, and one of them swallowed a bug when its neck stretched out. A familiar voice made me look at the intersection. The thin mother was rushing the piglets home. 4 The song of homesickness is a melodious and beautiful song for missing my hometown. The moon is always hanging in the deep night, and the stars blink. A wisp of weiyun is cut off by the breeze. In such a night, I gently sing cute with my homesick heart. The beautiful hometown of blue sky, white clouds, green hills, green water and golden wheat waves must have begun to roll again. You see, the villagers' corners of the mouth are smiling again. Tonight, just sleep peacefully and sleep with your hometown in your dream and have a happy dream. When you wake up, maybe my father drives a donkey with a whip and brings some hope. 5 Hometown, my hometown of poetry, A village lying in a ravine, I want to write a poem praising your hometown with my pen in my hand and my thoughts flowing in my heart. My hometown is in the sky. The back of the rolling mountains is singing in the ravine. The lights are shining under the moon, and the beans are yellow. The breeze reveals the skirts of the night. So I put wings in the dreams of the mountain people to fly, fly ... to the glorious hometown ahead. In the dim candlelight, your son beat the keyboard with tears and arranged the missing sentences into jumping lines. On May 1st, he went home to pack a bag of homesickness and set foot on a train of cars crawling on the mountain road. Dear hometown, your son is coming towards you. How many times have you returned to the wanderer's dream? The homesickness is like this flying dust falling all the way to the green mountains in the middle of the night in his hometown. How many times the stream slowly flows back to the wanderer's dream, the homesickness is like this beautiful scenery, and a picture is flowing in the wanderer's poem, all the way with willow buds and new green.

How many times the flowers are fragrant? Homesickness is like this touching spring. In the wandering eyes looking at my hometown, I draw out my lingering attachment. The wheel of my hometown rolls over the mountain road of my hometown, so there is a corner of vicissitudes of life hidden in the gap between the leaves. The poem after waking up at 7 noon, my hometown is used to entertaining the wandering wanderers who come home, but it is no longer used to taking a quiet nap at home. Wind, birds, chickens and tractors wake up the hot money from dreams. The sun shines obliquely on the face through the window grilles, and the sound of birds mingled with the laughter of children echoes out of the wooden fence-like door in spring.

Look at the breeze chasing spring and running in the blue sky. weiyun waved snow-white long sleeves to refuel spring. Green wheat seedlings spread carpets on the hillside. Poems of hope rolled on the edge of the village in his hometown. Children were frolicking with apricot flowers, pear flowers and peach blossoms. Adults scolded the children for scaring you away from spring. There are a group of birds on the old locust tree flapping their wings and flying westward to the sun in the rebuke of adults. 8 hometown, hometown, hometown, I was born and raised in my hometown. Every night when I was wandering in a foreign land, my dream always haunted you. The winding mountain road left every footprint of my growth, witnessed the slow growth of a mountain village boy, and witnessed the waves rolling in the spring breeze on the roadside of a mountain village, just like the beautiful hopes of the villagers drifted to the distant place of dreams, and the mountains connected with the fields were continuously delayed to the distant place of dreams. The peaks that disappeared in the sky were generations of grandparents and grandchildren.