Chinese text for sixth grade primary school

"Song of the Yangtze River"

You come from the snow-capped mountains, the spring tide is your style; you rush to the East China Sea, the stormy waves are your spirit, you use the sweet milk , nurturing the children of all ethnic groups; you use your strong arms to hold up the mountains and the sea, we praise the Yangtze River, you are the source of infinite; we are attached to the Yangtze River, you have the feelings of a mother. You have come from ancient times, and the huge waves wash away the dust; you rush towards the future, and the sound of the waves echoes in the sky. You use your pure clear water to irrigate the land of flowers; you use your majestic power to promote a new era. We praise the Yangtze River , you are the source of infinity; we are attached to the Yangtze River, and you have the feelings of a mother. Ah Yangtze River! Ah Yangtze River!

"The Sea in Yantai"

Most of China's coastal cities face the sea in the east or south, but very few face the sea in the north. Yantai faces the sea in the north, so it has a unique sea landscape.

In winter, the dark brown sea surface looks very solemn. Cold currents from Siberia often pass through this sea area with great force. The mountain-like swells are like thousands of angry lions, rushing from the northern sky to the embankment, splashing waves several feet high, making thunderous roars, and sometimes even lifting rocks weighing hundreds of kilograms from the shore. The stool was lifted to the center of the road more than ten meters away. Every time when huge waves hit the shore, many Yantai people and tourists from other places rush to the shore despite the cold wind to watch this spectacular scene. Others ignored their clothes getting wet from the waves and stood on the shore, taking photos with the waves several feet high in the background, forming a magnificent landscape.

In spring, the sea water becomes green. Microwaves appeared, and white waves chased each other laughingly from the distant horizon in the north towards the shore. As soon as they touched the rocks and beaches on the shore, they retreated shyly, and then rushed up again, like A naughty child. Spring is the season of sowing, and the sea is no exception. The fishermen took off their winter clothes and sailed across the calm sea to the breeding areas to sow seeds of hope and look forward to the harvest season.

In summer, the wind from the South Pacific makes many cities facing the sea in the south feel wet, and this wind with moisture passes through the blocking and filtering of the mountains of the Jiaodong Peninsula and reaches Yantai, facing the sea in the north. Only coolness and comfort remain. Therefore, the sea in Yantai in summer is often as level as a mirror, like a quiet and gentle girl. In the early morning, the sun floats out of the water like a red balloon washed by water, dragging a long reflection on the sea. Every sunrise on the seaside makes people mesmerizing. In the evening, the calm sea reflects the lights of thousands of houses, and the stone benches on the shore are filled with tourists. Under their feet are the whispers of the waves and the embankment.

Out of the romance of summer, the sea in Yantai has entered the heights of autumn. People who have lived in this city for a long time have this experience. As soon as the beginning of autumn arrives, the sea water immediately becomes exceptionally blue and the sky appears exceptionally clear. Compared with yesterday, there is immediately a coolness of autumn in the air. Saying goodbye to the solemnity of winter, the lightness of spring, and the romance of summer, the sea in autumn has become a bit fuller and busier. Fishermen sailed out to sea, and freighters weighed anchor and sailed away...

The sea in Yantai is A painting is a vast background and a magnificent stage. Generations of Yantai people have performed majestic dramas here.

"The Biggest Ear of Wheat"

There was a great scholar in ancient Greece named Socrates. One day, he led several disciples to a wheat field. That is the season of ripeness. The ground is full of heavy wheat ears. Socrates said to his disciples: "You go to the wheat field to pick the biggest ear of wheat. You can only advance but not retreat. I will wait for you at the end of the wheat field."

The disciples understood the teacher After asking, he walked into the wheat field.

There are ears of barley everywhere in the field. Which one is the biggest? The disciples moved forward with their heads down. He looked at this one and shook his head; he looked at that one and shook his head again. They always think that the biggest ear is still ahead. Although the disciples also tried to pick a few ears, they were not satisfied and threw them away. They always think that there are still many opportunities and there is no need to make premature decisions.

The disciples walked forward with their heads lowered and picked carefully, and a long period of time passed.

Suddenly, everyone heard Socrates' old voice like a bell: "You are at the end." At this time, the empty-handed disciples woke up from a dream, and they looked back at the wheat fields. , countless wheat plants shook their heads, seeming to laugh at them.

Socrates said to his disciples: "There must be one ear in this wheat field that is the biggest, but you may not be able to meet it; even if you meet it, you may not be able to make an accurate judgment. Therefore, the biggest ear One ear is what you just picked."

After listening to the teacher's words, Socrates' disciples realized this truth: people's life seems to be walking in the wheat field, also looking for that. The largest ear. Some people see the plump "ears of wheat" and pick them without losing the opportunity; some people look around and miss the opportunity again and again. Of course, the pursuit should be the biggest, but holding the Yisui in front of you in your hands is the real thing.

"The Mystery in the Valley"

There is a north-south valley in Quebec, Canada. There is nothing special about the valley. The only thing that attracts attention is that its western slope is covered with pine, cypress, privet and other miscellaneous trees, while the eastern slope is only cedar.

This strange landscape has always been a mystery, and no one knows where the answer is.

In the winter of 1983, with heavy snowfall, two travelers came to this valley. They set up their tents and looked at the heavy snow flying in the sky. They were suddenly surprised to find that due to the special wind direction, the snow on the east slope of the valley was always heavier than the snow on the west slope. After a while, a thick layer of snow accumulated on the cedars all over the slope. When the snow accumulates to a certain extent, the elastic branches of the cedar begin to bend downward, and the snow slips from the branches. When the pressure is relieved, the branches that just bent rebound immediately, and the cedar still maintains its green and tall appearance. posture. In this way, it accumulates repeatedly, bends repeatedly, falls repeatedly, and... no matter how heavy the snow falls, the cedar is always intact. The mystery was finally revealed: there was heavy snow on the east slope, and because the other trees did not have the ability of cedar, their branches were broken by the weight of the snow and gradually lost their vitality. The snow on the west slope is light, and the small amount of snow on the trees cannot hold down the branches. Therefore, in addition to cedar, tree species such as cypress, cypress, and privet also survived.

The travelers in the tent were delighted with their discovery. One said: "I'm sure there were miscellaneous trees growing on the east slope, but they were destroyed by the heavy snow because they could not bend."

After a while, the other person seemed to suddenly understand something. , said: "I got a revelation - you can defeat external pressure through frontal struggle, but sometimes you need to bend it first like a cedar and make appropriate concessions in order to have a chance to rebound."

Indeed, bending is not about falling and destroying, but about surviving and developing better.

"Egret"

Egret is an exquisite poem.

The color combination, the body size, everything is perfect.

The white crane is too big and too stiff, and needless to say, even the pink ibis or gray heron feels a bit too big and too unusual.

However, the beauty of the egret has been forgotten by people because of its common sight.

The snow-white fur, the streamlined structure of the whole body, the long iron-colored beak, and the cyan feet. If it is longer, it will be too long, if it is reduced, it will be too short, and if it is too plain, it will be too white. , if it is darker, it will be too dark.

In the clear water field, there are often one or two egrets standing fishing, and the entire field becomes a picture embedded in a glass frame. The size of the field seems to have been specially designed for egrets.

On sunny mornings, I often see an egret standing alone at the top of a small tree. It seems unstable, but it is very leisurely. This is a rare hobby of other birds. People say it is on the lookout, but is it really on the lookout?

In the dusk sky, egrets can occasionally be seen flying low. Watching this scene leisurely is one of the joys of rural life.

Some people may feel that there is a flaw in the ointment - egrets cannot sing.

But isn’t Egret itself a beautiful song?

Egret is really a poem, a poem with endless charm.

"Oleander"

Oleander is not a precious flower, nor is it the most beautiful flower; however, for me, it is the most worthy of nostalgia and memory. flower.

I don’t know why or when, but in my hometown city, almost every house has several pots of oleander, and they are all placed under the screen wall inside the gate. , facing the gate. As soon as the guest walks through the door, he is greeted by a delicate fragrance, and his eyes are filled with green wax-like leaves and red clouds or white snow-like flowers. He immediately feels as if he has walked into his own home and feels at home.

There are also two pots inside the door of our house, one red and one white. When I was young, I had to walk in and out of here every day. Red flowers remind me of fire, white flowers remind me of snow. Fire and snow are incompatible: but these two pots of flowers bloom together in harmony, like snow on fire, or fire on snow. I enjoyed it because of it. In my little heart, I felt it was very strange and interesting.

There is only a wall, and after turning around the screen wall, there is the courtyard. Our family has always liked flowers; although there are no very expensive flowers, we have all the common flowers. Every spring, the jasmine flowers first bloom with small yellow flowers, announcing the news of spring. Then came peach blossoms, apricot blossoms, crabapples, elm-leaf plums, lilacs, etc., and the yard was full of flowers. In summer, the courtyard is even more lush. Impatiens, dianthus, cockscomb, five-color plum, Jiangxi wax, etc. are colorful and beautiful. The aroma of tuberose permeated the entire courtyard on a summer night, something I will never forget. In autumn, hostas bring a desolate chill, and chrysanthemums announce the end of flower events. In short, flowers bloom and fall in three seasons a year without interruption; although the scene is beautiful, there are many changes.

However, in the gate separated by a wall, the oleander was there quietly and silently. One flower failed, and another one bloomed, and one flower turned yellow, and another one grew. ; In the warm spring breeze, in the heavy rain in midsummer, in the coolness of late autumn, there is no time when it is particularly lush, nor any time when it is particularly declining. There is no day when it does not pose in the wind, from spring to autumn. , from winter jasmine to hostas and chrysanthemums, everything is here to accompany you. Doesn't this bit of resilience form a strong contrast with the flowers in the yard?

But the beauty of oleander doesn’t end there. I particularly like the oleander in the moonlight. When you stand under it, the flowers are a blur; but the fragrance is unambiguous, coming down from the branches intensely. It casts shadows on the wall. The leaf shadows are jagged and the flower shadows are blurred, which can arouse many fantasies in me. I imagined it was a map, and it turned out to be a map. This bunch of shadows is Asia, that bunch of shadows is Africa, and the blank space in the middle is the sea. It happened that a few small insects crawled across, and this was the ocean ship that traveled across the ocean. I imagined it was Nymphoides in the water, and a small pond really appeared in front of me. The shadow of a noctua flying over the wall is a swimming fish. I imagined it was a painting of ink bamboo, and I really saw a painting. When the breeze picks up, the shadows of the leaves blow, and the painting becomes a living painting.

With such resilience and the ability to arouse my imagination, I fell in love with oleander.

For many, many years, I walked in and out under such oleanders. At first I was short and had to look up to see the flowers. Later, I gradually grew taller, and the oleander gradually became shorter in my eyes. When I could see the flowers at eye level, I left home.

I left home, passed many years, and traveled to many places. I have seen oleanders in various places but was not impressed.

Two years ago, I visited Myanmar. After a few days of meetings in Yangon, many friends from Myanmar enthusiastically accompanied us to visit Bagan, the ancient capital in northern Myanmar. This place is famous for its pagodas and is known as the "City of Ten Thousand Pagodas". It is said that there were indeed ten thousand pagodas back then. Today, although there are not as many in number, looking around, you can see jagged towers clustering in the sky, emerging from the ground one by one, like the mountains of Yangshuo or the stone forests of Yunnan.

To use the old saying "bamboo shoots spring up after a rain", the difference is comparable. Although the flowers, plants and trees are still green, it is winter after all, and the weather is desolate and cold.

However, right here, in front of the building where we live, I unexpectedly discovered my old friend Oleander. Each one was almost as tall as a building, so I didn't even recognize them at first. There are more flower colors than in China. In addition to red and white, remember there are also yellow. The leaves are greener than I have seen before, like green wax, and the flowers bloom on high branches, looking more like patches of red clouds, clusters of white snow, and blossoming yellow clouds. The lush greenery and lush greenery are eye-catching, forming a strong contrast with the desolate and cold ancient city.

I walk in and out under such oleander every day. In the evening, I leaned on the railing upstairs with my Burmese friends and talked about various issues, the history of Bagan, the cultural exchanges between China and Burma, and the friendship between the two peoples, which is like compatriots. At this time, the ancient pagodas in the distance gradually faded into the dusk, but the nearby ancient pagodas were brightly illuminated by electric lights, making them look like a fantasy land on the spiritual mountain. I can reach out to the fence and grab the top branches of the oleander. The fragrance of flowers floats up from below to the upper floors, seeming to make the friendship between China and Myanmar even more fragrant.

In this way, the beautiful and touching memories of oleander are coated with a dazzling color of friendship between the people of China and Myanmar. I love oleander even more from now on...

"Confucius' Spring Outing"

Spring is here. Confucius heard that the spring tide was rising in Surabaya, so he took his disciples to the Surabaya River. Play while traveling.

The sun shines on the earth, the Sishui River is full of pink willows and green grass, and the gentle spring breeze is like the sound of a piano, accompaniment to the arrival of spring. Nature is like a great mother! The vast earth is her broad mind, the lush forest is her flowing hair, the warm sun is her bright eyes, the gentle breeze is his sweet whispers...

Confucius was in a very good mood. Not calm, just like the waves of Surabaya in front of him. The lively and cheerful Sishui River rolled in from the mountains and rushed away tirelessly. Confucius looked at the Sishui River emotionally and fell into deep thought. The disciples didn't know what the teacher was looking at, so they all gathered around him.

Zilu asked: "What is the teacher looking at?"

Confucius said: "I am looking at the water."

"Looking at the water?" Disciple They all looked at the teacher with doubtful eyes.

Yan Hui said: "Teacher must look at water when he encounters it. There must be a truth in it. Can you tell us about it?"

Confucius stared at the green waves of Surabaya and said meaningfully Said: "The water flows endlessly. It is the milk that nourishes all living things. It seems to be virtuous. Water has no certain shape, whether it is square or long. It must flow downward, gentle and gentle. It seems to have feelings and meanings. Water penetrates mountains and rocks and cuts stone walls. , never fearful, it seems to have ambitions. When everything enters the water, it will be able to cleanse away the dirt. He seems to be good at teaching... From this, water is a true gentleman!"

The disciples listened to the teacher! After a grand discussion, everyone was surprised. Who could have imagined that the teacher could see such a profound truth from the common flowing water!

On the bank of the green grassy river, the disciples gathered around the teacher, some squatting and some sitting. The teacher plucked the strings and the disciples sang along. The singing blends into the warm spring. Along the Sishui River, there is a strong friendship between teachers and students.

After a while, the disciples dispersed in twos and threes, some picking flowers, some catching butterflies, some fishing, and some playing in the water. Only Yan Hui and Zi Lu accompanied the teacher. Confucius said: "Can you tell me your ambitions?"

Zilu was impatient, and the teacher spoke before he finished speaking: "I am willing to take out the carriages, horses, and clothes to enjoy with my friends. , I won’t care even if it’s worn out or worn out. Friends should share their happiness.”

After careful consideration, the gentle Yan Hui said calmly: “I hope to become a good person. People who show merit for themselves."

Confucius looked at them with approval and nodded slightly.

“Yan Hui, I heard that you wrote your ambition into a song.

Why not sing it to the teacher? "

As Confucius spoke, he pushed the harp in front of Yan Hui. Yan Hui did not refuse. He tuned the strings and sang while playing. Confucius listened attentively at first, and after a while, he couldn't help but dance. Get up.

The feeling of spring is getting stronger by the Sishui River.

"Biluochun"

The famous Biluochun is produced in Dongshan and Xishan of Taihu Lake.

There is such a legend about Biluochun. It is said that Biluochun was originally a kind of wild tea that grew on the stone wall of Biluofeng in the east mountain of Taihu Lake. The tea picker put the extra tea leaves into his arms. Unexpectedly, the tea leaves were filled with heat and smelled frightening. From then on, people started shouting about this wild tea. Later, people felt that this name was inelegant, so they gave it a rather elegant name based on the fact that this tea originated in Biluofeng and the ancient custom of using the word "spring" to refer to tea. The name - "Biluochun".

The picking of Biluochun has a history of hundreds of years. Every year just after the spring equinox, the Biluochun tea flood begins.

With the sound of a few loud chickens. Shout, the whole lake and mountains wake up. Covered in morning mist and riding the morning glow, tea-picking girls walk in groups towards the tea garden. The air is filled with the faint fragrance of flowers, and silver is heard from time to time among the emerald green tea trees. Bell-like laughter. The sun rises, spreading thousands of golden lights over the lakes and mountains, and the tea gardens are dyed with a layer of gold. All the tea-picking girls are in high spirits, and they nimbly pick the tea from the trees with their dexterous hands. The green trees set off the beautiful figures, forming a beautiful and moving picture.

At night, the mountain village is full of lights, and it is another busy scene. , neatly pour the picked fresh leaf buds into the hot cauldron, spread out the five fingers, and keep stirring in the young leaves, sometimes kneading, sometimes rubbing, sometimes pressing, sometimes grabbing, the young leaves are flying up and down like a green dragon. It's really beautiful. Gradually, as the water evaporates, the color of the leaf buds becomes darker, and the strands are slender and curled into a snail. At this time, the tea leaves are kneaded and kneaded until they are pinched and released. At this time, the room is filled with a rich aroma. At this time, the tea leaves are dry but not burnt, crisp but not broken, green but not fishy, ??and fine and continuous. No wonder people call it "craft tea".

If watching the making of Biluochun tea is a novel feeling, then tasting Biluochun tea is even more intoxicating. The sun sets and the moon rises. Set up a table in the courtyard and gather a few people together. Sit around, take a set of blue and white ceramic tea sets, pour warm water of 70 to 80 degrees, and then put in a handful of Biluochun tea. The tea leaves are like green snails entering the water. At this time, the leaf buds stretch out and the hairs relax. , one flag and one shot, green and translucent, the posture is extremely moving. In the whole white porcelain cup, the soup is green and clear, and the fragrance comes to your nose. After taking a sip, the tea is refreshing and sweet in the mouth. People have endless aftertaste. Friends gather together, drink tea and talk, and the sincere friendship spreads around with the strong fragrance of tea...

Biluochun has won people's attention with its unique color, aroma, taste and shape. favorite. A foreign poet wrote this poem while tasting tea: "In the fragrant Biluochun tea soup, I saw the bright spring scenery of Jiangnan."