Poetry about finding roots and returning home

1. Poems about searching for roots

Poems about searching for roots 1. Idioms, poems and sentences about roots

In the final analysis, search for the roots and pull out the trees. Search for the roots and pull out the trees. The theory of looking for the roots but not the roots

The theory of not having the roots, mowing the roots, mowing the weeds, eradicating the roots, intertwined roots, reaching the ground and knowing the roots

Cutting off the roots, extinguishing the ears, pure roots, rafters, tile roots, lonely knots, thin root knots Pan solid

Root knots, knots, roots, knots, knots, knots, knots, knots, roots, knots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots Solid

Deep-rooted, deep-rooted, deep-knotted, deep-leafed, deep-branched, luxuriantly-grown

Roots, teeth, teeth, teeth, bumps, roots, roots, roots, roots, knots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, roots, knots, roots, roots, and roots p> In the final analysis, it comes down to the final analysis.

Cut the grass and remove the weeds. Cut off the root and root. The six roots are pure.

The six roots are quiet. They are taking root and falling leaves. Returning to their roots. Digging out the roots to find out the roots

Digging up the tree to find out the roots. Digging up the roots and digging into the undercarriage.

Digging up the roots and digging up the roots.

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Deep roots, deep roots, solid roots, deep roots, very deep roots, flat knots, big roots, deep roots

The tree falls and destroys the tree, which is thousands of feet high, and the leaves fall back to the roots, search for the roots, pick the teeth, there are no roots, and there are no roots, but there are no roots. pedicle

A tree without roots, water without a source. There is no pedicle. Cut the grass, remove the roots, cut the plant, dig up the roots, search for the roots, uproot the tree.

Search for the roots. Search for the roots. Ask for the roots. Search for the roots. Ask for the roots. Get the vegetable roots

Bite the roots, the leaves fall and return to the roots. One board, move the roots, change the leaves, move the roots and join the leaves

Lead the rope to arrange the roots, lead the rope to criticize the roots, talk about no roots, there are roots, there are bottoms, there are roots and seedlings.

No matter how strong the roots are, they will be damaged and take root. Cut off the weeds and remove the roots. The grass will have no roots. The branches will not take root.

Get to the bottom of the root. Get to the bottom. Get to the root. Get to the root.

Trace back to the roots, trace back to the roots, trace back to the roots

The bamboo shoots are growing in the dew, and the moss color is frosty on the roots.

The fragrance of orchids carries far away in the wind, and the fragrance of cymbidium flows through its roots.

2. It is best to appreciate the ancient poems and modern poems about nostalgia~~ Let’s talk about the Chinese people’s nostalgia and root-seeking thoughts

1 "Nostalgia" Nostalgia ice and snow in the warm sun The fragrant grass melts in the embrace, and the luxuriant green fills the end of the world. When the cool east wind wakes up the poet's hangover that hurts spring, the sunset slowly sets with flying flowers. March, March, I drag a long back to wander the streets of a foreign land. A face in a foreign land. They are very indifferent and watch every passing passer-by. When the boundless silk rain slants into a thin and dense net, covering the wanderer's empty mood. I am melancholy, melancholy. I lean on the dilapidated door of an inn and gaze towards my hometown in my dream. Home is a misty and rainy village. The tabby cat purrs and curls up next to the mother's needlework. When the cuckoo calls in the ear, it's better to go back than to go back, cuckoo, cuckoo. We are all pawns who have crossed the river. There is no way out and we can't look back. 2 Distant Nostalgia is given to the sweaty soil, and persistent faith is buried deep in my forehead. The waves of my hometown are decorated with red and green patterns on the village girl's clothes. All this is familiar and unfamiliar to me. I haven't looked at the ancient mirage again for a long time. The ancient locust tree at the entrance of the village that took me back to my youth was still standing under the tree that my grandmother used to stand in the wind and rain, waiting for me to return. Now I am eagerly looking for that old figure with eyes that seem to be reminding me all the time, until the memories overflow with tears. The green mountains in my heart are flying with cute cuckoos flying towards the clouds, straight into the edge of the dome, and the warm green grass is stepping on the feet, swaying and dancing in the wind. This is the hometown I think about day and night. It is condensed in my dream. How could I be willing to forget about it? How could I forget about it? The deep nostalgia that has settled in my heart 3 The piccolo that evokes the soul Returns in the afterglow, Mother, we cannot stay in the East for long, The tropical sea where typhoons are born, The air pressure in the North Pacific in July is very low.

The soul is back, mother, you can’t stay in the south for long, the one-way street of the sun train is the equatorial moxibustion on the soles of pedestrians’ feet in July. Come back, mother, don't stay in the north for long, the white kingdom of reindeer, there is no Sabbath night in July, only daylight.

The soul has returned, mother, you cannot stay in a foreign country for long. The small urn sleeps beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, accompanied by the small plants planted by your hands.

Come back, mother, to guard your little town behind the fire. When spring comes, I will walk on the wet and cold Qingming Road and bury you in a small grave in my hometown.

Bury you in Jiangnan, a small town in Jiangnan. The weeping willow hair hangs straight down to your grave. When spring comes, you will have a girl's dream, dreaming about your mother.

On the road to the Qingming Festival, mother, my footprints will be deep. Rain is dripping on the long hair of the willow trees. Mother, my memories are dripping. When the soul returns, mother, come and watch over you. These empty cities in all directions. 4 When I die, bury me between the Yangtze River and the Yellow River, with my head on my head and my white hair covered with black soil.

In China, the most beautiful and motherly country, I sleep peacefully, sleeping on the entire continent, listening to both sides, the requiem comes from the Yangtze River and the Yellow River, the two pipes of eternal music, surging towards the east. This is the most pampering and spacious bed, allowing a heart to sleep contentedly, thinking contentedly: Once upon a time, a Chinese young man once looked westward in the frozen Michigan, wanting to see through the dark night to see the dawn of China, using ten The gluttonous map of China that has not been satisfied for seven years, from West Lake to Taihu Lake, to Chongqing where there are many partridges, instead of returning to my hometown.

5 When I was young, homesickness was like a small stamp. I was here and my mother grew up over there. Homesickness was like a narrow boat ticket. I was here and the bride came over there. Homesickness is There is a short grave, I am outside, my mother is inside, and now the nostalgia is a shallow strait. I am on this continent, on the other side. In the remaining light, give me a ladle of Yangtze River water! The Yangtze River water is like wine. The taste of drunkenness is nostalgia. Give me a scoop of Yangtze River water. Give me a piece of Yangtze River water. Give me a piece of Begonia red. Begonia red. Begonia red. The burning pain of boiling blood is the burning pain of nostalgia. Give me a piece of Begonia red. Begonia red. Give me a piece of snowflake white. Snowflakes are as white as the letter. Snowflakes are the same as the white letter. The waiting of the Bai family letter is the waiting of nostalgia. Give me a piece of snowflake white. Snowflake white. Give me a wintersweet fragrance. The fragrance of wintersweet is the same as my mother. The fragrance of my mother is the fragrance of the country. Give me a flower of wintersweet fragrance. Oh, wintersweet fragrance. Xiang 7 is that cricket Liushahe Taiwanese poet Mr. Y said: Overseas, when you hear a cricket chirping at night, you will think it is the one you heard in the countryside of Sichuan. It’s that cricket whose steel wings are flapping in the golden wind. It jumps across the strait and quietly lands in your yard from the sky above Taipei. It’s the cricket that sings every night. It’s the same cricket that sang in “Youfeng·July” and in “The Wind in July”. Sung in "Tang Feng·Cricket", sung in "Nineteen Ancient Poems", sung by Hua Mulan's loom, sung in Jiang Kui's lyrics, heard of laborers, heard of the missing woman, heard of that cricket in the mountains I have sung on the post road, I have sung on the beacon tower of the Great Wall, I have sung in the hotel patio, I have sung among the weeds on the battlefield, I have sung to the lonely guest, I have listened to the wounded soldiers, I have sung, it is that cricket that sings in your memory, in my memory. Sing about the surprises of childhood, sing about the loneliness of middle age, think of carving bamboo cages, think of calling lanterns on the fence, think of moon cakes, think of osmanthus, think of pomegranate fruit full of pearls, think of hometown, yellow leaves flying, think of wild geese flying south, think of piles of haystacks in the fields, think of mother calling. When we go back and put on more clothes, we think of the years that have flown by secretly. That cricket is singing across the strait. It is singing in an alley in Taipei. It is singing in a village in Sichuan. It is singing everywhere wherever the footprints of every Chinese are. A monotonous piece of music is more monotonous than the most harmonious sound. It condenses into water and becomes dewdrops. It burns into light and is a glimmer of fire. It becomes a bird and a partridge cries in the countryside. In the heart of the listener is that cricket singing outside your window. I'm singing outside my window. You're listening. You're missing me. I'm listening. I'm chanting. You should guess what I'm chanting. I'll guess what you're thinking. Chinese people have Chinese mentality. Chinese people have Chinese ears.

3. What are the idioms about seeking?

Search for the source,

Search for the wind and catch the shadow,

Seek for news and ask for information ,

Looking for roots and leaves,

Looking for flowers and willows,

Looking for chapters and excerpts,

Looking for roots and pulling out trees,

Uprooting trees to find roots,

Looking for secluded places and wonders,

Looking for poems with pen strokes,

Looking for flowers and willows,

Chasing Shadows and sounds,

Searching for the end,

Searching for the roots,

Searching for the valleys and hills,

Searching for the journey and the team

Unusual,

Untraceable,

Unusual,

Food for thought,

Unexpected Struggle for trouble,

Deer looking for bananas,

Get to the bottom,

Ordinary orchestra,

Get to the bottom,

Looking for the ancient times

4. What kind of representative of China is Yang Ke, the sunshine poet, and what are his root-seeking poems

"Meeting a small rice field in Dongguan"

Yang Ke, China's "third generation" powerful poet, currently lives in Guangzhou. He is the editor and deputy editor of the literary monthly "Works" and a part-time professor at the School of Humanities and Communication of Guangdong University of Business.

Poems and essays have been scattered in various poetry journals or literary magazines; he has published "Sunbird", "Totem Confusion", "Sunflowers and Daylight Saving Time", "Strange Crossroads", "Clumsy" Fingers", "Selected Short Poems of Yang Ke (Chinese and English)" and other 6 poetry collections, prose collection "Narrative City" and poetry collection "Yang Ke Volume"; in recent years, he has edited "Them" Ten Years' Selected Poems, "Yearbook of Chinese New Poetry" series, "Selected Poems of Powerful Poets in the 1990s", "Rhinoceros Poetry Series", etc. Teach courses such as "Modern Poetry Writing and Appreciation" and "History of Chinese Poetry".

He has won many literary awards from mainland China and Taiwan. I have personally been invited to Japan, Australia, Taiwan, Germany and other places to participate in poetry festivals and conduct interviews and exchanges. One of the recommended judges for the "Chinese Literature Media Award".