Famous American excerpts 600 words

Article 1: Winter

Author: qing

Speaking of winter, I suddenly thought of tofu. It is a "small ocean pot" boiled tofu, hot. The water is rolling, like some fish eyes, a small piece of tofu is kept inside, tender and slippery, as if wearing a white fox coat. The pot is on the "foreign stove", and the stove is black and black, and the more white the tofu is. It was night, the house was old, and although it was "the light," it was still dark. Sitting around the table is the father and three of our brothers. The "yang stove" was too high, and my father often stood up, leaning his face slightly, squinting his eyes, reaching into the chopsticks from the hot air, holding the tofu and placing them one by one on our soy sauce dish. We sometimes do it ourselves, but the stove is too high, and we still enjoy a lot of it. This is not a meal, just a play. The father said that it was cold at night and everyone was warmer.
We all like this kind of white water tofu; when we go to the table, we look at the pot, waiting for the heat, waiting for the tofu that falls from the father's chopsticks in the heat. It is winter, remember that it is the lunar calendar on the 16th night of November, with S Jun P Jun sitting in the West Lake. S Jun just went to Hangzhou to teach, and wrote in advance: "We want to swim in the West Lake, no matter it is winter." The moonlight was so good that night, and now I still think of it. The night before was the "month of the moon"; maybe the moon in November is really special. At that time, it was more than nine o'clock. It seemed that we only had one stroke on the lake. A little wind, the moon shines on the soft water waves; when it is reflected, it is like a new silver. There is only a faint shadow left on the mountain on the lake. There are occasionally two or two stars under the mountain. S Junkou occupies two poems: "The stars are lighted to recognize the fishing village, and the light ink is light and traces the scar."
We don't talk much, only a uniform paddle. I gradually fell asleep. P Jun "heed" for a while before lifting his eyelids and saw him smiling. The boatman asked if he would go to the Jing Temple; it was Amitabha’s birthday, and it was quite lively. When I arrived at the temple, the lamp on the temple was brilliant, full of Buddha's voice, and it seemed like a dream. This is more than a decade ago. S Jun often used letters. P Jun heard that he had changed several times. In the previous year, he collected special taxes in a special tax bureau. There will be no information in the future. After a winter in Taizhou, a family of four. Taizhou is a mountain city, which can be said to be in a big valley. There is only one street that is two miles long. On other roads, it was not very obvious during the day; it was dark at night. Occasionally, there is a little light in the window of the people, and there is a torch that is walking; but that is a rare one. We live at the foot of the mountain. Some are the sound of the wind in the pine forest on the mountain, with two birds in the sky. When I arrived there in the late summer, I left in the early spring, but it seems to be living in winter; but even if it is really winter, it is not cold. We lived upstairs, and the study room was on the road; someone on the road could speak clearly and clearly. But because there are too few people walking, the sound of a little talk, it sounds only when the wind is sent, I can't think of it outside the window. We are outsiders, and often just sit at home, except when they go to school. The wife is also used to the loneliness, only guarding with our fathers. Although the outside is always winter, the family is always spring.
Once I went to the streets, when I came back, the generous windows of the kitchen downstairs were open, and they were squatting side by side with their mother and son; three faces were facing me with a naive smile. It seems that Taizhou is empty, only four of us; only the four of us are empty. At that time, it was a decade of the Republic of China. My wife had just come out from home and was full of freedom. Now she has been dead for almost four years, but I still remember the shadow of her smile. No matter how cold, windy and heavy snow, I think my heart is always warm.


Chapter 2: Summer in Yangzhou

Author: qing

Since the Sui Emperor, Yangzhou has been praised by the poet scribes; it has been praised for a long time, and the average person has echoed. Until now, if you mention the name of Yangzhou to people, he will nod or shake his head and say, "Good place! Good place!" Especially those who have never been to Yangzhou and have read some Tang poems. In his heart, Yangzhou is really like a tower. The maritime market is generally beautiful; if he read the book "Yangzhou Paintings", it would be even worse. But in a person who lived in Yangzhou like me for a long time, he did not have so many beautiful fantasies. His abomination may have concealed his hobbies; he may have left for three or four years without thinking about it. If you think about it, - what do you think he wants? Woman; yes, this seems to be famous, but I am afraid that it is not a woman now? - He will only think about the summer of Yangzhou, although it still has nothing to do with women.
There is a big difference between the north and the south. In my opinion, there is no water in the north and there is in the south. It is true that the north of the country this year, heavy rain, Yongding River, Daqing River and even the embankment, but this is not a water; the Beihai and the Summer Palace in Beiping, although a bit of water, is too flat, and the boat is so stupid. The water is still the south. In the summer of Yangzhou, most of the benefits are on the water – some people call it “Slim West Lake”. The name is too “skinny”. The name of the fake West Lake is OK. “Yade is so vulgar.” To be honest, I don’t like it. of.
The convenience of disembarking is the moat, Man Yan is going to go, twists and turns, until Pingshantang, this is your familiar name - there are seven or eight miles of rivers, there are many tributaries. In fact, this river does not have the greatest benefits. It is just a twist and a little quiet, and it is different from other places. The most famous scenery along the river is Xiaojin Mountain, Fahai Temple and Wuting Bridge; the farthest is Pingshan Hall. Jinshan, you know, Xiaojinshan is in the middle of the water. It’s best to look at the water there, and it’s natural to watch the moon – but I have never had such a blessing. The tenth of the people who "go down the river" are here, and there are too many people. Fahai Temple has a tower, the same as the North Sea. It is said that the Emperor Qianlong went down to the south of the Yangtze River, and the salt merchants urged the craftsmen tonight. The famous nature of Fahai Temple is this tower; but there is one, you can't guess, it is braised pig head. Eating braised pig heads in the summer may not be appropriate in theory; but in fact, sweating and eating are not bad. As the name suggests, Wuting Bridge is a bridge of five pavilions. The bridge is arched, the highest in the middle one pavilion, the four pavilions on both sides, the difference is commensurate; the farthest look, or the shadow, is good. There are quite a lot of bridge holes, which are worn by boats and have other flavors.
Pingshan Hall is on the gang. It is not a mistake to see the faint outline of the mountains in the south of the Yangtze River; There are fewer tourists here, sitting in the church and you can live forever. Along the road, it is also a quiet victory. Disembark from Tianningmen or the North Gate. The wall of the hustle and bustle reflected the shadow of the sky in the water, and the boat leisurely supported it. The harassment on the shore did not seem like it. There are three types of boats: large ships are designed for banquets and can be played or played. When I was a child, I used to go with my father and listened to the record in the boat. Is there probably less boat ride now? Followed by "small strokes", it is like a watermelon, supported by a man or woman with bamboo poles. If you have more people, you can hire two, and you can use a small stool before and after: this can also be regarded as "Ark". Later, there was another kind of "foreign plan", which was smaller than the big ship and bigger than the "small row". There are more and more "foreign strokes", and the big ships are gradually less, but "small strokes" are always wanted. This is not only because the price is the most embarrassing, but also because of its embarrassment. Sitting alone in a boat, let a person stand on the stern and hold it with a bamboo pole. It is a Tang poem, or a landscape painting. And some teenagers who are good deeds are willing to support their own boats, and they are not "small strokes".
Although the "small strokes" are cheap, they are also somewhat different. For example, you can also think of it, women are always more expensive to support the boat; the nature of the girl is more expensive. These women who hold the boat are the "boat mothers on the Slender West Lake" that some people have said. The story of the ship's mothers is probably quite a lot, but I don't know very well. It is said that it is a slap in the face, and it is natural to win; in the middle age, it is interesting, and it is still good. However, at first it was originally a play, or it was not hurting the good fortune; if there was a price in the future, it would be awesome. Outside the North Gate, it is called the down street. The "teahouse" is the most, often facing the river. When the boat is out of date, tea guests and passengers can greet and talk. If the boater is happy, he can also ask for a pot of tea in the teahouse, or one or two "small cage snacks", sipping, eating, and talking in the river. When you come back, you will hand over the teapot and the so-called small cage to the teahouse. The pontoons are all familiar with the teahouse, they are not afraid of you eating white. Yangzhou's Xiaolong Dim Sum is really good: I left Yangzhou and walked through seven or eight places, and I haven't eaten such a good snack yet; this is actually worth remembering. The place of the teahouse is generally good, and the name is quite good. Such as Xiangying Gallery, Luyang Village, and Hongye Mountain Villa, all of which are still remembered.
The scorpion of Luyang Village hangs on the green poplar tree and floats in the wind, reminding people of the famous phrase “Green Yangcheng Guo is Yangzhou”. There are also small pools, bushes, and Maoting. The teahouse layouts in this area are all well-known. It is not Shanghai, and the square houses in the North Square are comparable. "Under the river" is always afternoon. When I came back in the evening, I went to the shore in the middle of the squad, folded the big squat on the wrist, and shook the fan slightly in one hand; so I went into the north gate or Tianningmen and went home. At this time, you can read the poem "There is a half-day leisure".


Chapter 3: Leisure

Author: Bing

My brother took the hairpin from my head and carefully picked up a new monthly magazine. After reading the catalogue, I rolled it up and held it in my hand and said, "Ying Ge, you are so silent, there is no message for one year."
I meditation, a slight smile.
Yes, it’s too silent! However, I can't, I don't want to sneak in; unnaturally, create a place, write for entertainment, and write something. The sick God is merciful to me, and I have given me the most leisurely and quiet seven days. Except for the time of taking medicine several times a day, it is bitter. I don't think it's not a moment, not immersed in a slight pleasure. - The courtyard is silent. The pillow is cool. The warm sun shines through the curtains and shines on the pale yellow walls. The thick tree shadows are shaking in the breeze. There are good birds flying from time to time outside the window. At this time, everything in the world has been abandoned, and the room is the universe, and the sound of flowers and trees is full of good ideas. It is the most rare time of the year, but it is only seven days! At dusk, when the younger brother returned, the music sounded and the silence was broken. A piece of dark green silk is covered in a lamp, and everything in the house is faint, like a scene of tragedy. In the mirror, I saw my exquisite white clothes, and I quietly felt empty and mysterious. When the ukulele of the eaves trembled, oysters, slowly played. The two voices, from different tones, gradually merge. By melodious, and turned around; by sorghum, and when I was slow, I felt a lot of embarrassment and restlessness. The children are so cute, in my sleep, secretly came, put down a few bunches of flowers, and left. The little brother took it in the bottle, and in my sleep, secretly placed aside the bed. - Open eyes, yellow and white, unknown small flowers, lined with light green short bottles. ... It was not very fragrant, and every flower contained innocent friendship.
Resting all day, the time limit of sleeping and waking up, can't be distinguished. Sometimes at midnight, I feel that my spirit is perfect. ——I heard the thunder and the rain, and every time the electric light penetrated, the golden bell flower on the window sill was lightly reflected on the curtains, and it was quickly wiped out. The rest of the shadow is very distinct and printed on my meninges. I saw the "natural" light ink painting for the first time.
With permission, it will be evacuated at dusk. Light and cool people. Between the slow steps, the consciousness is very weak, and the weak implies an indescribable pleasure. This scene is just like an hour on the sea boat. - I don't remember it at all. It was the mother who told me. - Everyone was slumbering. I ignored it. I stepped on the deck and went to see the sea. The condensate, from time to time, feels that the body has turned and sat down on the deck, thinking it is very fresh and very interesting. Every time I sit down, I laugh and can't stop laughing. I laugh again and hope to fall again. Suddenly it has been more than ten years, and I don’t want to be weak in the mood of pleasure. I have not changed it yet.
A friend wrote a letter to express my condolences to me, saying: "Dongboyun's illness is not bad because of illness." I am also a good person in life. Therefore, it is a great effort to know how to be idle. The university asks... If you can raise your mind, even Reading "Vei Mo Jing" is especially wonderful, and the goddess can do all the sickness of the beings, and it is impossible to break the disease by itself! I am afraid to disturb the gods, and I don’t dare to." Because of illness, it is the first thing, but the Buddhist scriptures are not. Look.


Chapter 4: Li Qiu Night

Author: Yu Dafu

In the dark sky, stars are scattered like chess pieces. More violent winds, screaming at high places. There are not many pedestrians on the road, but they are also constantly. When the car passes by, or the wind blows down, Asfar’s way off, there is always a yellow sand. It’s time to wear a single coat and feel hot. The lights on both sides of the road were never more than the night before, and the doors of the stores were closed.
The two walked silently on the road. The latter one is wearing a half-old summer cloth dress, and the front is wearing an unpopular white silk gown. The two of them were friends. They were wearing a foreign dress to visit a fellow countryman. The gown was brought back from a comrade who was going to the United States. The two men accidentally met on the road. Both are unemployed.
"Where are you going?"
After a while, I said wearing a long gown.
There was no reply in the gown, and I walked silently for a while, and the head did not turn around. I asked the dress to say:
"Where are you going?"
I don’t answer the clothes, and I walked silently along the tram line. The two were walking to a tram stop, and the last tram to go back to the garage came. In the long gown, I stopped and stopped, waiting for the back to wear a suit. When I walked slowly into the gown, I stopped the tram and drove out again.
"Why don't you take this tram back?"
I’m wearing a long gown and I’m wearing a dress. I didn’t answer the clothes, but my feet kept moving forward slowly, and the long-sleeved shirts followed.
The two went to a three-way intersection. Wearing a foreign dress stood down and stopped. Wearing a long gown, I walked close to the side wearing a foreign dress, and my feet did not stop, but I continued to move slowly. I followed the side of the dress and asked:
"Why don't you go back to this fork?"
The two went silently, and their shadows gradually went away from the three forks and went down. After a while, their shadows were completely swallowed up by the night. At the intersection of the three forks, the wind fell, and a yellow sand turned, and the wind was fierce. As soon as I arrived by car, a yellow sand was turned around at the fork. This is the evening of the autumn.


Chapter 5: There is such a warrior

Author: Lu Xun

There must be such a warrior -
It’s not like a Mauser who is obsessed with Africans and is carrying a snowy mauser gun; it’s not as tired as a Chinese green battalion but wearing a box gun. He has no shackles of cowhide and scrap iron; he only has himself, but with the gunman used by the barbarian.
He walked into the void of nothing, and all he met met him. He knows that this nod is the enemy's weapon, a weapon that kills people without seeing blood, and many soldiers are dying here, just like a cannonball, making the warrior useless.
There are various flags on the heads, embroidering various good names: philanthropists, scholars, scribes, elders, youth, yaren, gentlemen... There are various coats under the head, embroidering all kinds of good patterns: learning, morality, national quintessence, public opinion, logic, justice, Eastern civilization...
But he raised his shot.
They all vowed to say that their hearts are in the middle of their chests, just like other eccentric humans. They all have a protective mirror on their chest, and they are convinced that they are testifying in the middle of the chest.
But he raised his shot.
He smiled and flung sideways, but he was in the heart of them.
Everything fell to the ground; - but there was only one coat, and there was nothing. The nothing that has been taken away has won, because he has become a sinner of philanthropy and other geniuses.
But he raised his shot.
He strode in the midst of nothing, goodbye, all kinds of flags, all kinds of coats...
But he raised his shot.
He finally fell ill in the absence of things, and ended his life. He is finally not a warrior, but nothing is a winner.
In such a situation, no one knows the war: Taiping.
Taiping......
But he raised his shot!