上海金山區(qū)楓葉學(xué)校

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今天GJXX小編搜羅了上海金山區(qū)楓葉學(xué)校高二語(yǔ)文課程學(xué)生詩(shī)歌作品希望給擇校的家長(zhǎng)們提供參考。

在過(guò)去的日子里，上海金山區(qū)楓葉學(xué)校高二語(yǔ)文課程曾開(kāi)啟詩(shī)歌專題《詩(shī)行中奔涌的我》。在這個(gè)專題的隱藏創(chuàng)作任務(wù)是讓每個(gè)人都擁有一首“自己的歌”。在經(jīng)歷創(chuàng)作構(gòu)想、擬定初稿、和教師通過(guò)線上線下各種方式交流碰撞之后，同學(xué)們開(kāi)始形成了以“我自己的歌”為主題的原創(chuàng)詩(shī)作。在此基礎(chǔ)上，教師指導(dǎo)學(xué)生以詩(shī)歌文本為素材，展開(kāi)了精美的詩(shī)歌海報(bào)制作和詩(shī)歌視頻/音頻錄制。隨后，我們?cè)谥蟹綀D書(shū)館閱覽室舉辦了各自的班級(jí)的詩(shī)會(huì)。每一首流淌于這個(gè)靜謐空間里的小詩(shī)都浸染了各自生命的精華，就像在上一期詩(shī)歌《我是影》中，陳孝儒同學(xué)所寫(xiě)：“我不甘心，想要擁有自己的軀干！/我用了堅(jiān)石，我試了木桿，/才發(fā)覺(jué)缺少了溫暖的心。/我歷經(jīng)磨難取到了心靈，/我笑著看著那些陽(yáng)光下的孩子。/這一刻我才發(fā)覺(jué)，我的影子早已灰飛煙滅?！?/p>

在詩(shī)畫(huà)影像中讓思想流動(dòng)，本期為大家?guī)?lái)的是肖紫鈺同學(xué)的《桂》、盧藝軒同學(xué)的《雨》以及繆紀(jì)洲《尋風(fēng)之路》。在屬于各自的尋風(fēng)之路上，讓我們嗅桂香，聽(tīng)雨聲......                                                 

——高中語(yǔ)文教師 朱琪

肖紫鈺作品：桂

打開(kāi)九月的窗，

送來(lái)打散的桂花涼意。

我走到源頭旁，

拾走散落的星零碎點(diǎn)。

我置身于遠(yuǎn)邊的樹(shù)下，

腳下是滿地的金黃。

在香蔭下?lián)屩榻穑?/p>

跑著、笑著、鬧著。

可轉(zhuǎn)眼，

只有那些星點(diǎn)依舊。

這桂香每年都不會(huì)缺席，

在不同的地方相伴著我。

看著手里的桂花，

我想它或許是天上星。

它小巧白凈，

卻有怒放的芳香。

望著掛滿的桂樹(shù)，

我想它是我的友人。

待到良辰佳時(shí)，

如詩(shī)的金色爆滿枝葉。

花苞中載著我的樸實(shí)的記憶，

記憶從花瓣里漫出來(lái)。

賞上一口桂花香，

悠于記憶的遠(yuǎn)方。

Open the window of September,

Sent to shatter the chill of osmanthus flowers.

I went to the source,

Pick up the scattered star bits and pieces.

I stand under the far tree,

The ground is covered with gold under my feet.

In the shade of the incense,

Running, laughing, making noise.

But in a moment,

Only the stars remain.

This sweet cinnamon is not absent every year,

Stay with me in different places.

Looking at the osmanthus flowers in his hands,

I think it might be a star.

It was small and white,

But has the fragrance of full bloom.

Looking at the laurel trees,

I think it's my friend.

And in the fullness of time,

The leaves are filled with poetic gold.

The bud carries my simple memory,

The memory comes out from the petals.

Enjoy the sweet osmanthus,

In the distance of memory.

盧藝軒作品：雨

其實(shí)我一直認(rèn)為，

雨肯定是云朵與太陽(yáng)的孩子。

每當(dāng)爸爸媽媽吵架的時(shí)候，

爸爸都會(huì)躲起來(lái)，不理媽媽。

媽媽呢，總會(huì)黑著臉。

小雨滴比爸爸更害怕媽媽發(fā)火，

可它能躲到哪里去呢？

它只好跳出媽媽身后，

跳到雨傘上 陸地上 石頭上。

去看一看 去聽(tīng)一聽(tīng)

人間發(fā)生的有趣事。

夫妻吵架 金榜題名 闔家團(tuán)圓

升職加薪 朋友訣別 柴米油鹽...

小雨聽(tīng)得十分入神。

等到爸爸媽媽和好了，

它就又能回到爸爸媽媽身邊，

和他們講一講人間的新鮮事了。

In fact, I have always thought that

Rain must be the child of clouds and the sun.

Whenever my parents quarrell,

Dad will hide and ignore mom.

Mom, she always has a black face.

Little raindrops are more afraid of their mother's ignition than their father.

But where can it hide?

It had to jump out of his mother's back.

Jump on the umbrella, on the land and on the stone.

Go and have a look and listen to it.

Interesting things that happen in the world.

Couple quarrelling, title of the golden list, family reunion

Promotion and salary increase, friend's farewell, firewood, rice, oil and salt...

raindrop was very ensised.

Wait until Mom and Dad are reconciled,

It can come back to his parents again.

Tell them something new about the world.

繆紀(jì)洲作品：尋風(fēng)之路

清風(fēng)帶來(lái)了來(lái)自天空的低語(yǔ)，又讓前方升起了迷霧，撥開(kāi)眼前的白霧，我便踏上了尋風(fēng)之路。

我翻開(kāi)了塵封的檔案文字在泛黃的土地上舞蹈，一串我的符號(hào)映入了腦海可這真的是清風(fēng)的終點(diǎn)嗎？難道一個(gè)小小的符號(hào)便可揚(yáng)起那漫天的塵土？難道清風(fēng)會(huì)因那小符號(hào)而停止腳步？迷霧依舊在于是我又踏上了尋風(fēng)之路。

我注視著湖面的水波，水波逐漸凝固，我看到了我的倒影，可這真的是清風(fēng)的終點(diǎn)嗎？難道冰山的一角便可以代表那無(wú)限的海洋？難道清風(fēng)將會(huì)被困在冰山的孤島上苦苦求援？迷霧依舊在，于是我又踏上了尋風(fēng)之路。

我來(lái)到了一堵白墻下，墻面延伸到了地平線的盡頭白墻黑字是我的壯志凌云可這真的是清風(fēng)的終點(diǎn)嗎？難道墻的背面因無(wú)人前往就為虛無(wú)？難道清風(fēng)會(huì)因?yàn)楦邏Χ艞壡靶?？迷霧依舊在，于是我又踏上了追尋清風(fēng)的路。

我向空中的明月望去月光照在我的臉頰之上如今月光照耀的一切的一切可這真的是清風(fēng)的終點(diǎn)嗎難道百萬(wàn)年前，千萬(wàn)年后，月不是月難道清風(fēng)會(huì)因遙遠(yuǎn)而吹不進(jìn)那廣寒宮之中迷霧依舊在，于是我停下腳步，尋找清風(fēng)。

符號(hào)，倒影，白墻上的黑字，月光下的一切清風(fēng)都留下他的痕跡。清風(fēng)徐過(guò)，迷霧散去，幡然醒悟清風(fēng)在我心中。

The wind brings whispers from the sky,And raised the mist ahead,Pushing away the white mist before my eyes,I set out to find the wind.

I opened the dusty archivesThe words dance on the yellowing earth,A string of my symbols came to mindBut is this really the end of the wind?Can a little symbol raise up the dust?Will the wind stop because of that little symbol?The fog is still thereSo I set foot on the road to find the wind.

I watched the waves of the lake,As the waves solidify,I see my reflection,But is this really the end of the wind?Can the tip of an iceberg represent the infinite ocean?Will the wind be stranded on an island of icebergs, begging for help?The fog is still there,So I set foot on the road to find the wind.

I came to a white wall,The wall stretched to the end of the horizonWhite walls and black letters are my top gunBut is this really the end of the wind?Is the other side of the wall empty because no one goes there?Will the wind stop because of the walls?The fog is still there,So I set out to find the wind again.

I looked up at the moon in the skyThe moon shone on my faceEverything that the moon shines on nowBut is this really the end of the windMillions of years ago, millions of years later, months are not monthsIs it possible that the breeze will not blow into the palace because it is far awayThe fog is still there,So I stopped and looked for the breeze.

The symbols, the reflections, the black letters on the white walls, everything in the moonlightThe wind leaves his mark.The breeze slowly passes, the fog clears, the awakeningThe wind is in my heart.