敘事作文 老城記憶作文800字
更新時間：2024-05-23 21:14:26作者：貝語網校
敘事作文 老城記憶作文800字Narrative composition
以下是翻譯的英文版本內容：
Old City memory essay 1
After stepping over the threshold made of bluestone, the wooden house has a slightly damp musty smell, circling in the nose. But instead of being rancid, it had a sweet smell.
After obtaining the consent of the owner of the house, we walked into the building with a western wind, and also approached the clouded period of the Republic of China, as if it were many years away from us. The scene, gradually clear. The gray brick, and there is no special bright color, but it with a whole floor of gray will seize your vision, the milky balustrade pattern is simple and elegant, the window sill accumulated shallow gray.
Then walk to the west into another path, facing a courtyard. There was a well on the ground, and when I lifted the cover, I looked down and saw several figures at the top of the well rippling under the water. The daylight is intoxicating and adds a touch of poetry. There is a stone ladder in the corner of the room, slightly thin, slowly walking up, for fear of disturbing a room in the attic. Green vines spread over the stone steps and walls like a thick green blanket
Quietly entering the small building, he saw a room of calligraphy and painting. I move the wings of my nose gently, and the light sandalwood that surrounds them is calming. On the right wall, the book "Xiangshu Yashe" big characters, the dust covered on the table suggests that the master has long been no longer here to chant poetry and paint, Fu Ci listen to music. I could not help but hear the wooden door sigh softly, we may be the last guests there.
The passage of the years, but the end of the grass and trees. Go downstairs, a few with pink brilliant color, in the twilight into my eyes, perhaps, this wall of flowers, has already spent decades of spring and autumn. Her arrogance also led to the last sigh of the ancient buildings that were about to lose people, holding a branch, green, across the gap of years. Perhaps sensing the coolness of grief, I stamped my foot and turned to leave.
Looking up, I saw another wooden house with half-empty columns. Style, you can see the craftsman design ingenious dexterity: crane Li, in the peony; Birds singing, between the mountains; Xiantao, born on the tree tops; Shallow cherry, hidden deep courtyard. Time and space are the most ruthless, so that you have traces to follow, but there is no escape, unable to resist the streamer of the moon, little by little...
When homeowners are asked what they think, they are naturally reluctant to move. Even if you can buy other houses later, it is the same as the old house in memory. The beauty of home, it is like trees in fallen leaves, water in dry fish, often "fallen leaves return to the root", into spring mud, is for the next generation of fallen leaves also do not forget their roots!
Did the intense nostalgia of the Republic of China also pass along with the opening of these buildings? That love may have been buried deep in my heart. The other side of the dimly Hao far memory, this farewell.
The old city, carrying all his memories of crystal jade, said goodbye to the distance. I stared at the resolute first shadow, step by step, far away......
Old City memory essay 2
Visit the city's bustling pedestrian street, see more lights under the night, but never forget the little bits of the old city. It does not have the hustle and bustle of the city, only the simple shouts of the street vendors; It has no row upon row of tall buildings, only old houses and ancient streets; It has no dazed lights and green, only a simple way of life.
I stood on the stone street to look around, the former greedy Street also less people, a few shops pulled down the iron door, fell on a thin layer of ash, there are a few bright advertising paper also slightly dilapidated. A dazzling signboard, now also become mottled iron shelves, the air seems to be some rust is covered by the aroma. In autumn, the entrance of the several trees are still full of green, the spirit attached to the leaves, floating across the blue sky, landing on the stone street a few years ago.
I saw the old people coming and going, each of them carrying big or small bags, chewing something to eat, meeting acquaintances to say hello, and then continue to talk and laugh with their friends, discussing which restaurant to eat later.
I can smell that barbecue place from a mile away. Every time I go, I have to wait in line for a few minutes, and it's always the same. It is very strange, ah, some things will not touch again after eating a bite, but some things, you eat again and again, but will still be in the memory of the taste that has never changed. Bite down on a piece of barbecue, spices and the aroma of barbecue suddenly hit me full of. There is also the shop that sells chestnut cake, the thin cake under the skin is golden chestnut, sweet and not greasy, one is enough to contain the sadness and bitterness of the day.
The whole street of gluttons stretched forward, I breathed the air containing various fragrances greedily, holding them in my arms, afraid that the next moment, they would dissipate. How much I hope this road does not come to an end, the mottled light and shadow sprinkled on the bumpy ground in the street, reflecting the traces of the years.
The dream should wake up, the roar of the machine will raze the old city to the ground, perhaps in the future I can see a commercial building rising, no longer smell the sweet chestnut cake fragrance a few miles.
Occasionally, I do not want the sunset of the gilt ink in the steel forest, I hope the old city sky will always have a warm and soft sunset, not young, not old, and we can wear the sunset, with the expectation of the world, laugh innocently, laugh recklessly, in the old city's preference under the spoil and pride.
Old City memory essay 3
"Grandpa's new home has a lot of things to take care of, let's go to help tomorrow!" At the dinner table, the mother said softly. "Is everything out of the old house?" I wondered. "Almost all moved, there is no need to go there." The mother answered. Nodding, I said no more.
When I was young, I liked Grandpa's old house most, although it looked low and some shabby, and the cracks in the walls were mottled. But who would hate an old man who likes to "fuck around", who will tell you stories and give you candy? Even where he lives is so, around the house, four or five families are close together, the sun is projected between square inches, cut by the eaves, the courtyard is divided into light and dark. At this point, it becomes very important to have a good location for the plant. The flowers next door occupy the right place at the right time, but it is a pity that there is less "people".
This is the talk of children, adults may know, may not know. "You water it more or less! The leaves are withered!" "You put less, the flowerpot is full of water!" "No watering at noon!" Grandpa a less angry person, is by the coarse nerve and do not understand the plant of the neighbor angry blood pressure soared. The neighbor is also an old man, because looks like the old man Ding in the stick figure and is so "honored" by the child. He knows a little poetry, often slow, understated to find an excuse: "Want to raise its good flowers, must first bitter its mind, labor its bones, hungry its body." "The bitter in the bitter is the flower in the flower..." Understand the brother and sister to give us the source of science popularization, it can be seen that a group of large and small listening to the dialogue of the two old people laugh, the child's "secret" to each other. Unfortunately, the flower did not become a "hero" in the flower, and eventually died, and the yard became quiet.
But how can a child's world be silent? Children to the age of learning, the first to give enlightenment is the parents, but perhaps it is the nature of the active, the children in addition to feel interesting things, other refuse to accept, the father has a son across the door, older than I was at that time, perhaps got the "old man Ding" true legend, when grandpa tells the story will sing together, happy also tell their own plot related to the characters, Is not love to write, the most interesting is to chase a whole alley, chasing while scolding: "Do things to be patient, continuous is the way to victory, halfway, nothing... Nothing can be accomplished without rules." "Boy" can not run away from "Lao Tzu", or was caught and beat a meal, when it really hurt, the clap made my butt have empathy.
When the origin of the story disappears, a corner of the memory seems to be missing. But thankfully, time flies, memories are still there, and at some point in time, you can still smile.
The old city did not disappear, but changed to a place, lived in people's hearts, hidden in a quiet night.
Old town memory composition
以下是帶重點詞匯的原文內容：老城記憶作文 篇1
邁過青石制成的門檻，木屋略顯潮濕的霉味暈開，回旋在鼻間。但，并不是腐臭，反而有種甜絲絲的氣味。
在求得房主的同意后，我們走進那座偏西洋風的建筑，也走近了民國那個云霧繚繞，仿若隔我們多年般的年代。景像，逐漸明晰。青灰的磚，并沒有什么特殊的亮色，可它用一整樓的青灰便攫住了你的視野，乳白色的欄桿花紋古樸典雅，窗臺處積了淺層的灰。
再向西走進另一處小徑，迎面便是一個四合院落。地上有一口井，掀開井蓋，朝下望去，便見井口的幾個人影在水底蕩漾。日光醉人，也平添了幾分詩意。房隅竟有著一座石梯，略顯單薄，緩步而上，生怕驚擾閣樓上一室清幽。綠色藤蔓延展，鋪在石階與墻壁上宛如濃厚的綠毯覆蓋
悄然邁入小樓，便望見一室的書畫。我輕輕翕動著鼻翼，繚繞在其間的淡淡檀香，讓人心神安寧。右壁上書“香書雅舍”大字，桌上布著的灰塵暗示著主人久已不再此處吟詩作畫，賦詞聽曲。不由聽得木門輕聲嘆息，我們，或許是那里最后一位客人吧。
歲日的流逝，終抵不過草木榮枯。走下樓去，幾抹帶著粉嫩的艷色，在朦朧間撞入我的眸中，或許，這一墻的花，早已度過了幾十載春秋。她的張狂也暗引出了即將失去人煙的古建筑的最后一聲嘆息，執一枝，綠意，跨過歲月的鴻溝。許是察覺到悲戚的涼意，我跺跺腳，轉身離去。
抬頭仰望，又是一木屋，廊柱是半縷空的。式樣上，可以看出工匠設計之精巧靈動：鶴唳，于牡丹叢中；鳥鳴，處山英之間；仙桃，生天樹梢上；淺櫻，藏庭院深深。時空最是無情，讓你有跡可循，卻又無處遁逃，無法抵擋住發月的流光，一點一點的消逝……
當詢問起房主的想法時，他們自然是不愿搬離。縱然之后也能買其他的房子也一樣抵不過記憶中的故居。故鄉的美，便仿若樹于落葉，水于旱魚，常道“落葉歸根”，化作春泥，是為了下一代的落葉亦莫忘本啊！
民國的濃郁鄉愁，是否也隨著這些建筑的敞開而傳遞？那份情思悠悠也許早已深埋在我心。彼岸的那個縹緲浩遠的記憶，就此作別。
老城，攜著他所有晶明如玉的記憶，告別著走向遠方。我怔怔地望著那堅毅的首影，逐步，遠去……
老城記憶作文 篇2
逛多了城市繁華的步行街，看多了夜幕下的燈火闌珊，卻永遠忘不了老城的點點滴滴。它沒有城市的喧囂，只有街上小販淳樸的吆喝聲；它沒有鱗次櫛比的高樓大廈，只有老屋古街；它沒有茫然的燈紅酒綠，只有簡單的生活方式。
我站在石街上環顧四周，從前的貪吃街也少了許多人，幾家店拉下鐵門，落上薄薄的一層灰，上面還有幾張鮮艷的廣告紙也略顯破敗。一個個耀眼奪目的招牌，如今也成了斑駁的鐵架子，空氣中似乎還有些鐵銹味被香氣掩蓋。入秋了，入口那幾棵樹還綠意盎然著，心緒附在葉子上，飄過蔚藍的天空，停落在幾年前的石街上。
我看到了從前的人來人往，他們每個人都提著或大或小的袋子，嘴里嚼著些吃的，遇到熟人了就打個招呼，再繼續和同行的朋友說說笑笑，商討著等一下再上哪家店吃去。
那家燒烤店的香味我隔著老遠都能聞出來。每次去都要排幾分鐘的隊，每次也都是那幾樣。很奇怪啊，有些東西吃了一口就不會再碰第二次，但有些東西，是你吃了一次又一次，卻仍會在想起時貪戀那從來沒變過的味道。一塊烤肉咬下去，香料與烤肉的香頓時將我撞了個滿懷。還有那間賣栗子餅的小店，薄薄的餅皮下是金黃的栗子，甜而不膩，一個就足夠包容一天的難過與苦悶。
整條貪吃街向前延伸著，我貪婪的呼吸著包含著各種香味的空氣，將他們擁入懷中，怕下一刻，它們就消散了。多希望這條路走不到盡頭，斑駁的光影灑在街上坑坑洼洼的地上，照出了歲月的痕跡。
夢該醒了，機器的轟鳴會將老城夷為平地，或許以后我能看到一棟棟商業樓拔地而起，再也聞不到栗子餅飄香幾里的清甜了。
偶爾，我不想要鋼鐵森林里鎏金潑墨的晚霞，但愿老城的天空里永遠有溫溫柔柔的夕陽，不會年輕，不會老去，而我們可以披著drape； cover；日落sunset；，懷揣對世界的期待，笑得天真爛漫naivete； artlessness； naivety； child of nature；，笑得肆無忌憚，在老城的偏愛下恃寵而驕。
老城記憶作文 篇3
“外公的新家有很多東西要理，明天去搭把手lend sb a hand； help out；吧！”飯桌上，母親柔聲in a sweet and girlish voice；說道。“老房子old house；的東西都搬完了？”我疑惑尋問asking；。“基本都搬了，那邊不用再去了。”母親答話。點頭，我沒再說話。
小時候最喜歡prefer...above all others；外公的老房，雖看起來looking； seemingly； appear；低矮short； low；也有些破舊，墻壁縫隙都透著斑駁的痕跡。但誰會討厭一個喜好“沾花惹草”，會給你講故事還給你糖的老人呢？即使他住的地方是如此，房子周圍，四五戶人緊挨著，陽光投射方寸之間，被屋檐剪裁，院落分割出明暗。此時，為植物留好位置就變得異常重要。隔壁的花占據天時地利，可惜少了“人和”。
這是小孩子的談資，大人許是知情的，許是不知情的。“你多少給它澆水啊！葉都枯了！”“你少放點，花盆都積水了！”“正午不可澆水！”外公一個少動怒的人，楞是被這位粗神經又不懂植物的鄰居氣得血壓飆升。鄰居也是一老頭，因長相酷似簡筆畫中的丁老頭而被孩子這樣“尊稱”。他多少懂點詩墨，常常慢悠悠的、輕描淡寫的找借口：“想養其好花的，必先苦其心智，勞其筋骨，餓其體膚。”“吃得苦中苦，方為花中花……”聽的懂的哥哥姐姐給我們科普出處，便可見一幫大的小的聽著兩老人的對話嘻嘻笑笑，將孩子的“秘密”相互傳告。只可惜，那花終是沒有成為花中“豪杰”，最終還是死了，院子里也變得安靜了。
但孩子的世界怎么會寂靜呢？孩子到了該學習的年齡，首先給予啟蒙的是家長，但也許是天性好動，孩子們除了感覺有意思的東西，其它的概拒不收，對門父親有個兒子，比那時候的我大些，許是得了“丁老頭”真傳，當外公講故事時還會一唱一和，高興了還自己講述與人物有關的情節來，就是不愛寫字，最有意思的是追著跑一整條巷子，邊追邊罵：“做事要有耐心，持續才是得勝之道，半途而廢，一事無成……沒有規矩不成方圓”。“小子”跑不過“老子”，還是被抓住打了一頓，當真是疼的，啪啪聲使我的屁股都有共情。
當屬于故事的發源地消失了，記憶的一角似乎也有所缺失。但值得慶幸的是，時光荏苒，回憶仍在，在某時某刻回想，依舊能得一笑。
老城沒有消失，只是換了個地方，住到了人們的心里，藏匿在某個夜深人靜的夜晚。
老城記憶作文