Poetry about picking fruits.

The poem "Harvest Fruits" is as follows:

Xijiang moonlit walking on Huangsha Road

Song Xin qi Ji

The moon on the horizon rose to the top of the tree, scaring away the magpies perched on the branches.

The cool evening breeze seems to have spread to cicadas in the distance.

In the fragrance of rice and flowers, people talk about the harvest of a year, and frogs croak in their ears, as if in a bumper harvest year.

In the old days, Maodian was near the forest, and the road turned to the stream bridge.

In the autumn fields, the sunny rice is surrounded by a golden ocean, rattling in the autumn wind, bending like a sickle of a new moon, gathering the joy of harvest.

The neat rice stubble is the string of the earth, singing with the voice of flies, half falling in the autumn sunshine and half bathing in the starlight.

Compassion for farmers

Don Li Shen

At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil.

Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard?

When I was a child, the first ancient poem I came into contact with was Li Shen's Compassion for Peasants, which is a well-known poem.

Every grain of rice on the dining table and in the field is bought by farmers with sweat, which is hard to come by.

farmhouse

Don Young is in people.

Call in the middle of the night while plowing,

This cow can't walk hard.

At that time, people didn't know the hardships of farmers.

It will be called Tanaka Valley's own life.

For farmers, the most beautiful things in the world are red sorghum, corn with a big mouth, corn kernels in Huang Chengcheng and millet bent with laughter. ...

Therefore, even if they need to plow in the middle of the night, they will take pains, not saying a word of fatigue or shouting a word of hardship.