Cut 600 words from the composition and keep nostalgic.

600-word composition on homesickness: Living in the noisy market in Lancang, Yunnan, it is inevitable to live in troubles. Just like this, the beautiful life in the countryside is even more enjoyable and unforgettable.

Whenever I am free or at leisure, whenever I have the opportunity to return to my hometown, my mood is even happier. When running to the rugged path in the field, the pace becomes much lighter and more comfortable. Especially on a sunny day after the rain, the land under your feet is soft, and it feels better to step on it than to step on foam. The road is dotted with many nameless wild flowers and lush green grass. All kinds of crops in the field, such as rape, wheat seedlings, lettuce, etc., are like a green carpet. Trees on the mountain and bamboo forests on the roadside symbolize pure natural green. Even if you are tired after a long journey, when you stop to have a rest, the clear singing of birds and the running water of the stream will make you happy and relaxed.

Life in the country is very simple. At dawn, the adults got up early and went to work in the fields with farm tools. At this moment, open your sleepy eyes, the air is fresh, the sun is soft, and the smell of the earth is full of fragrance. It is a pleasure to wander in front of and behind the house and immerse yourself in the morning dew. At this time, there was a cry of selling tofu. If any family wants tofu, they should ask. Then the burden is picked up at the door, and you can see a smooth shoulder pole with bamboo baskets at both ends and a piece of tender tofu on each. Look at that sweaty tofu seller. Fresh and tender tofu, often steaming with soybean milk, is full of fragrance. The children turned into greedy cats and wandered around the pickaxe selling tofu. Take a small piece of tofu and chew it with relish. After a hearty meal at noon, adults are busy again. At dusk, under the cover of twilight, smoke curled up in the mountains. However, the dinner has the charm of rural people, and the unique farm slang of rural people is flying all over the sky.

Walking into the countryside makes people feel safe and quiet, and they are infinitely envious of the downtown area.

At the beginning of the article, I held a handful of local culture, soft and thin, without any impurities ... it is the symbol of the Loess Plateau and the beauty of the middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River. Exquisite local culture has grown with me all the way, growing in the heart of this oriental giant.

Thousands of years of wind and rain can't blow away your beautiful uniform, and the fog clears, revealing your solid chest and generous palm.

It's you, it's you, it's you who raised me, it's you who grew up with me, it's you who sent me to school, I look far away, and the ancient road is full of interest.

My hometown, where I was born and raised. I am thirsty, the child who came to you for water; I'm hungry, the child who came to eat cake with you ... the vicissitudes of growth, the passage of time, the old man, I don't remember anything, but I can't forget your kind face, your sweet milk and delicious oil cakes. ...

I always remember your voice, and I won't forget it. The cry of the empty valley and the orchid resounded through the mountains, Sichuan and the north and south of the river, ringing all the way, calling for the wanderer who left home and tugging at his heart. It's not loud, almost nothing.

Someone can hear; This voice is not small, and it will always ring in the hearts of wanderers who have left their homes. This is the heartbreaking cry of my mother down the road! The loving mother's voice calls for the wanderer to come home. She didn't ask her son to be a dignitary.

Expensive, just want to be safe, just fine.

My heart tightened. At this moment, no matter how prosperous the metropolis is, it is not as attractive as the path in my hometown in my eyes. In the beautiful mountains and rivers, I can't see the mountains and rivers in my hometown. I only have a little idea, buy a ticket to go back, set foot on the way home, and yell at the sky in a foreign land:

I want to go home!

The 600-word composition "Cut Missing" cuts missing.

What I missed was still chaos.

What I cannot forget is my memory of you.

I'm not here now.

Are you still missing?

The connection between them is gradually fading.

From boasting

There is nothing to say so far.

Is quietly changing.

What will happen in the future?

What will the meeting say?

Complain or miss?

Or passing by?

If there ever comes a day when

Showing up by your side by accident

Are you still who you used to be?

Do you think of people in the past?

Give up homesickness. Give up homesickness.

In a blink of an eye, a year is about to pass. Looking back on the past years, I have too many feelings. I have been working hard for my dream in a foreign land. The new year is approaching, and homesickness is getting stronger. I don't know when it began to rain in Mao Mao outside the window; The midnight wind knocked on my window lattice, and my homesickness swelled up like a soaked seed for no reason.

Think about it a few years ago, when I came to this strange city alone, I thought I was used to the day of eight to five. In the days of disappointment, everything in my hometown has drifted away. Looking back suddenly, I found that the fragrance was sealed in my heart. I am like a flying kite. No matter where I am, the spiritual rope is always tied to the buttonwood in front of my hometown.

Everything in my hometown flashed in my memory. In my lonely heart, my thoughts are like fish swimming around. I used to be addicted to the frustration of life. But the mountains and rivers in my hometown, simple family and unchanging posture, and my soul has already floated out and returned to my hometown through Qianshan, eating the jiaozi made by my mother herself. That kind of feeling is so practical.

The ups and downs of life, joys and sorrows, dribs and drabs can all be gathered into a thick book, and the meaning of every word, page and punctuation can only be understood by oneself. In the face of fierce competition, even if you work hard or have succeeded, you will face difficulties in life. Even if it is a deep dilemma, don't be discouraged, but face it with a positive and peaceful attitude. Don't treat life in a foreign country as suffering, and don't treat experience as wandering. We should regard it as an experience in the journey of life.

The stage of life is very big, depending on how you behave. Let yourself know the distance between theory and practice, whether for recreation or to kill time, you must always keep learning to realize it. As long as you have a goal in life, don't care about other people's wine and coffee, abandon your inner complaints and depression, and believe in yourself, such a dull life is equally meaningful.

It's almost dawn before you know it. Life is beautiful because of dreams, and I will always be the best, because I have been preparing for miracles.

In a blink of an eye, a year is about to pass. Looking back on the past years, I have too many feelings. I have been working hard for my dream in a foreign land. The new year is approaching, and homesickness is getting stronger. I don't know when it began to rain in Mao Mao outside the window; The midnight wind knocked on my window lattice, and my homesickness swelled up like a soaked seed for no reason.

Think about it a few years ago, when I came to this strange city alone, I thought I was used to the day of eight to five. In the days of disappointment, everything in my hometown has drifted away. Looking back suddenly, I found that the fragrance was sealed in my heart. I am like a flying kite. No matter where I am, the spiritual rope is always tied to the buttonwood in front of my hometown.

Everything in my hometown flashed in my memory. In my lonely heart, my thoughts are like fish swimming around. I used to be addicted to the frustration of life. But the mountains and rivers in my hometown, simple family and unchanging posture, and my soul has already floated out and returned to my hometown through Qianshan, eating the jiaozi made by my mother herself. That kind of feeling is so practical.

The ups and downs of life, joys and sorrows, dribs and drabs can all be gathered into a thick book, and the meaning of every word, page and punctuation can only be understood by oneself. In the face of fierce competition, even if you work hard or have succeeded, you will face difficulties in life. Even if it is a deep dilemma, don't be discouraged, but face it with a positive and peaceful attitude. Don't treat life in a foreign country as suffering, and don't treat experience as wandering. We should regard it as an experience in the journey of life.

The stage of life is very big, depending on how you behave. Let yourself know the distance between theory and practice, whether for recreation or to kill time, you must always keep learning to realize it. As long as you have a goal in life, don't care about other people's wine and coffee, abandon your inner complaints and depression, and believe in yourself, such a dull life is equally meaningful.

It's almost dawn before you know it. Life is beautiful because of dreams, and I will always be the best, because I have been preparing for miracles.

Constantly cut tapes and ask for a composition of 600 words. First, understand the key words in the title of the article. The key words here are obviously "constantly cutting the tape" and "squeezing the tape".

I suggest you write an article about how your parents love you.

Finally, at the end, I wrote, "My parents' love for me is like a belt that keeps squeezing, and it will accompany me all my life. "

Put the question at the end.

I have always had feelings with him. Even though we are separated from each other, we still care about each other. I know this kind of feeling has a nice name, called beloved family. -inscription

There is an invisible scar in my heart, which is caused by love and missing. Because of love and missing, it will accompany me all my life, day and night, every minute, never far away.

The scars on my mind are killing me.

That day, I skipped into the yard as before. I found a white curtain hanging on the door. Suddenly, my smile froze on my face. Suppressing my foreboding, I tried my best to walk quietly to the door. I walked in step by step and vaguely heard sobbing in the room. I quickened my pace. At this time, my mother came out of the room, her eyes were red and swollen and she was obviously crying. When she saw me, she suddenly felt a little flustered. Why are you crying? Mother bowed her head and said nothing, but I saw her shoulders shaking violently. I have no choice. I acted quickly, went into the house and slammed the white curtain. I dropped my schoolbag and there was a man lying in front of me. His face is still rosy and his figure is still burly, but his eyes are closed and his chest is not undulating. I know he can't get up now, and my mind is blank and I jump on the old man. I shook my mother helplessly. "Mom, please wake up my grandpa." My mother turned away from me. My father tried to take me away. I grabbed grandpa's hand and cried all the time. My heart hurts. I don't know how long I cried.

The scars on the soul are clearly visible.

Grandpa, open your eyes. Grandpa is not in front of you. I turned to look out of the window. The light rain outside the window keeps falling, just like my tears can't stop. I held my eyes tightly and curled up in the corner, listening to the rain and counting the endless sadness in my heart.

The scar on the mind is dull and painful.

It's been a while since grandpa died, but I still can't wake up from my sadness. My mind is always full of bits and pieces with grandpa. Although I sometimes play and laugh, I always calm down and my heart will soon be attacked by sadness. Grandpa, I miss you. Can you hear me?

The scars on the soul will never be far away.

Now, I understand that people can't come back from the dead. Grandpa who is far away in heaven has always loved me. Of course he doesn't want me to be so sad all the time. I must learn to be strong, live well, study hard and let him live well in another world. I love my grandfather, and my grandfather loves me. There is a constant feeling between us. Even though we are separated by Yin and Yang, we still treat each other.

Reflections on the 600 words of Crossing Homesickness; Do not forget the call of hometown.

-read "give up homesickness"

Qi Jun's "Spring Wine" has brought us a strong flavor of hometown, and the strongest and heaviest taste in Babao wine must be homesickness. Qi Jun didn't taste his family again. By contrast, is the famous writer Qiong Yao lucky? Did she become more attached to her hometown after that short trip to the mainland? After appreciating the homesickness that keeps cutting, I seem to have found some answers.

"This journey is like the flight of a flock of migratory birds. Migratory birds fly once a year, and our first flight will take 39 years. " Thirty-nine years-what a long river it is, a bottomless crack in the earth, but it is filled with seawater and it is difficult to cross it from now on. The sea breeze and waves only bring more and more heavy homesickness. "... homesickness is a shallow strait, I am here and the mainland is there. "Qiong precious jade stood among thousands of Taiwan compatriots in Qian Qian, looking at the shadowy mainland on the other side, thinking of her white-haired relatives.

"After parting, I look forward to meeting you. My dream is the same, and my homesickness is thousands ... Sitting by the Yangtze River tonight, I am still afraid that the Yangtze River is in my dream. " I can't understand how Qiong Yao felt when she set foot on the motherland. What kind of mixed feelings would that be? The Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Yuanmingyuan, Three Gorges and Shilin ... When you see the joy between the lines and the introduction of Qiong Yao, it's like sitting in an open-air tea restaurant in the afternoon. The warmth in the sun and the sweetness of coffee agitate each other, stirring and subliming the taste of happiness. It will be a little bitter after a long aftertaste. ...

In thirty-nine years, things have changed. "When young people leave home, the local accent will not change." I'm afraid this local accent has long since disappeared. The great rivers and mountains of the motherland are still shining in the sun. Are people in their hometown still there? Are their temples gray? Relatives in Beijing gave Qiong Yao the feeling of "gathering and dispersing two Yi Yi"; Far away in Hunan (Qiong Yao's hometown), how much courage it takes to face the loess! It is not easy to get together. Or Su Shi wrote it well: "I hope people will live for a long time and have a good scenery thousands of miles away." Only when this wish comes true, maybe we won't have the courage to face it again. In thirty-nine years, people have changed. Lanzhitang (Qiong Yao's childhood home) and the once deep house compound, once close at hand, although guarded by relatives, may have become a "broken" word. Passing through Hunan, but afraid to go home, the so-called "fear of being close to home" is the truth.

I haven't left home for so long, and I really can't understand such homesickness. My heart is heavy when I close this book. Qiong Yao wrote down her trip to the mainland in just a few decades with a piece of paper, recording her endless joy and emotion. It is a pity that she never returned to her hometown. However, this homesickness also has a scope-Qiong Yao's homesickness comes from the motherland and the mainland. The separation between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait makes her regard the mainland as her home. Many of us sometimes miss only the land where we were born. It may be as prosperous as Shanghai or as simple as the Loess Plateau. Maybe there are buildings everywhere, or maybe a winding stream flows slowly in front of the door ... Many people go out to travel, and often they don't have enough to eat and sleep well. This is whether I will think of the sentence "A nest of gold and silver is not as good as my own kennel". The so-called "acclimatization" may be every inch of my hometown's concern for wanderers in a foreign land. Hometown and home are always the warmest and most comfortable places, containing everything you have.

"It's early spring, spring is old, spring goes to Qiu Lai, and the years are flowing, and the wanderer is injured and wandering." No matter homesickness or hatred, it will grow bigger and bigger as you drift away like spring grass.

So no matter when and where, don't forget the call of your hometown!

Zhou Ji deleted 300 words of homesickness. Every day, invisible forces surround us and pass by us, minute by minute. It is time. Time is long, it can let us spend a lifetime of youth, unrestrained; Time is tight, which will make our wonderful time go down the drain and accomplish nothing.

Time has also made me contradictory, but it has become the heaviest word in my heart.

The sky is sunny for a while and gloomy for a while. I am thinking, I should choose time for a while and play for a while. None of them can make up their minds. What should I choose? Think about it carefully but don't know that time has slipped away. No shadow, no sound. Choose between the two. The spark of thought is born, deadlocked, argued and argued again. "There's plenty of time, lots and lots, and you can keep playing anyway!" "No, time is limited! We should cherish time and don't let it go to waste! " My thoughts are spinning, the rhythm is jumping, the notes I want to play disappear, and the number of grasping time is increasing. Yes! Time occupied my heart and ascended the highest throne in my heart. Time makes knowledge pour into my brain and unfamiliar topics reappear in my heart. Time has given me more precious. Shortly after the protection time, time rewarded me. Because I gave up playing, it brought me a surprise gift-success. This unexpected surprise didn't bring me wasted time, but playing didn't.

When you are in a daze, the second hand "ticks" past and crosses your fantasy; When you are playing, the minute hand runs quietly and crosses your joy; When you wander and pace, the hour hand turns slowly. . .

Time can enrich us or make us empty; Can let us get more, let us lose more. In my opinion, time occupies my heart, time is more important than my life, and there is life when there is time.

Time can make us have everything! Can let us enjoy everything! It will cost us everything! Let's pack everything! Time is more important than everything!

Looking at the gray photos and kind faces, I can't help but think of the day when my grandfather left me-that day, the gray clouds in the air seemed to be filled with lead, which made people breathless. I walked into the campus with heavy steps, like a walking corpse. Absent-minded in class, my mind is full of grandpa lying in the hospital bed.

The first two classes passed in a daze, and I knew nothing about what I had learned. During the third class, my father came in a hurry, called me and said in a hurry, let's go!

I got on the bus quickly. On the way to the hospital, I looked at my father. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was wrinkled. Is this still the humorous, cheerful and talkative father? Dad seems to have aged a lot overnight. Suddenly, I noticed that something seemed to surge in my father's eyes. Was it tears? My heart suddenly trembled. That was the first time I saw my father cry. Dad saw me looking at him, so he turned away from me. On the way, father didn't say a word. I had a premonition of something, but I kept silently resisting it and told myself: no, no.

Grandpa lives on the fourth floor of the hospital. Before the elevator came down, my father pulled me up the stairs. Seeing my father in such a hurry, I think my hunch is right. I was scared. I'm afraid grandpa will leave me. . . . . . So I squeezed my father's hand. Into the ward, grandpa lay peacefully in the hospital bed, the doctor walked around, and his family surrounded him. Grandpa's original instruments have been removed, as well as oxygen bottles and liquids. Tears came down when I looked at my dying grandfather. I didn't cry hysterically, but stood quietly beside my grandfather, looking at his kind face, dribs and drabs when I met him, letting tears flow freely, completely unlike the mentality of a 14-year-old girl.

Grandpa finally closed his eyes and stopped breathing. A tear really crossed his face. It was a tear. It was the first time I saw grandpa cry since I was a child.

Many people came to mourn grandpa, and the mighty motorcade occupied a long road. Sad suona blew a fragile parting song and sobbed, but in that summer, I felt the desolation like autumn wind. A loss of loess separated me from my grandfather in two worlds, and I could no longer hear his words of concern. "The tree wants to be quiet, but the wind does not stop. The son wants to raise and not kiss." Grandpa, I haven't paid you back yet. A person came home, sat at his desk, his eyes blurred, I don't know how long he cried, and gradually fell asleep. In my dream, my grandfather and I walked hand in hand on the tree-lined path, talking and laughing; In my dream, my grandfather and I sat at the dinner table and ate together; In my dream, I went to the opera with my grandfather. . . . . . "Her, why are you standing here for so long? It's time to go to grandpa's grave. " Mom came over and urged. "Oh, right away." I just remembered that today is the first anniversary of grandpa's death.

On May 26th, 20 14, my grandfather left me, which I will never forget, the first time I saw my grandfather cry, the first time I saw my father cry, and the first time I lost my loved ones. . .