Holding an oil-paper umbrella, wandering alone in the long, long and lonely rainy lane, I hoped to meet
a lilac-like girl with sorrow.
She has the same color as lilacs, the same fragrance as lilacs, and the same sorrow as lilacs, and she wanders in the rain, sorrowful and wandering;
She wanders in the lonely rainy alleys, holding an umbrella, like me, like me
walking silently, cold, bleak, and despondent. She approached in silence, approached,
and cast a gaze like a breath of air, she floated past, like a dream,
like a dream, poignant and confused. Like a lilac in a dream,
The woman passed by me; she went away in silence, far, far away, to the dilapidated hedge wall,
And walked down the rainy alley. In the dirge of the rain, her colors were faded, her fragrance dispersed,
dissipated, even her breathless gaze, lilac melancholy. Holding an oil-paper umbrella,
alone, wandering in the long, long and lonely rainy alleys, I hoped that
a lilac-like girl with sorrows would float by.
The joy of a snowflake
If I were a snowflake, fluttering in mid-air,
I would recognize my direction --- flying, flying, flying,
There is a direction for me on the ground. Not to the cold and lonely valleys,
not to the bleak foothills, nor to the deserted streets for despondency---
Fly, fly, fly,
Fly, fly,
You see. I have my direction!
Fluttering in the air, I recognize the secluded dwelling place,
and wait for her to come and visit me in the garden---fluttering, fluttering, fluttering,
---. - Ah, she had the fresh scent of vermilion plums! And then, by my lightness,
I dabbled in her lapel, and drew near to her soft heart,
dissolving, dissolving, dissolving--
Dissolved into her soft heart.
Shayanara --- to the Japanese girl
Most of all, the tenderness of the bowed head, like the shyness of a water-lotus against the cool wind,
Saying good-bye, saying good-bye,
That saying good-bye has a honeyed sorrow in it! --- Shayanara!
To seek a star
I rode a blind horse with a crooked leg, and lashed out into the blackness;
-- lashed out into the blackness,
I straddled a blind horse with a crooked leg. I rushed into this black and dim night,
In search of a star;
In search of a star, I rushed into this black and dim wilderness.
Tired, tired of the animal at my crotch,
That star has not appeared;--- That star has not appeared,
Tired, tired of the body in the saddle.
This time there came a crystal light from the sky;
A herd fell in the wilderness, a corpse in the night.
This time there was a crystal light in the sky!
News
The thunderstorm has subsided for the time being; the double rainbows, like dragons, appear in the mist,
fast, bright, vivid,
a good sign! Tomorrow will be a good day. What! Another clap of thunder,
-- Out of the clouds, out of the sky,
Again it was dark, and the rainbow colors were gone,
Hope, unsteady, was destroyed. I'm not sure if I'll be able to hold on to it, but it's ruined.
In the Shanghai-Hangzhou train
In a hurry! Rush rush rush! A roll of smoke, a mountain, a few cloud shadows,
A water, a bridge, a sculling boat, a forest of pines, a clump of bamboos, and red leaves in profusion:
Colorful fields, colorful autumn scenery, dream-like distinctions, blurring, and fading,
-- Rush rush rush! Is it the wheel or the light of day?
Rush old autumn face, rush old life!
Remaining Poem
Who do I blame? I'm not sure who I'm blaming. It's not thunder in the green sky?
It's a good thing that you're not a big fan of the way things are, because you're a big fan of the way things are!
The white stone steps are smooth,
and tomorrow, the grass will grow in the cracks, and the stone floor will be green with berries!
The jade tank under the porch is filled with fish, but who will change the water,
who will get the grass and who will feed them? It will not take three or five days to turn over the white belly and bulging eyes,
Not floating dead, but also let the ice pressure a flat!
Top poor is that a few red-beaked green hair parakeets, so that the Queen taught the top good,
Will sing with the hole xiao, really pampered, feeding a late, on the name of the people scolded,
Now, you call to go! I've got an empty yard for you to answer to. ......
Changing and unchanging
The leaves on the tree said, "It's changing again, you see, some of them are heart-breaking,
and some of them are curled and burnt!" "No," replied my own heart:
It too is fading and withering in the cold west wind.
At this time the stars of the company climbed to the tips of the trees; "Look here,"
they seemed to say, "Has there been any change?"
"Look here," unleashed another voice from nowhere,
"Is it still just as stark?" -- It was my soul that interjected.
Midnight Late Lane Pipa
Again it woke me from my sleep, late in the night!
Whose fingers, like a bleak wind, like a miserable rain, like a falling flower,
in the depth of the night, in the drowsiness of sleep, stirring the tight strings,
playing the Gongshang and the Horns and the Symbols of Music, and the late night, the deserted street, with the waning moon hanging in the willow-top,
Ah, the waning moon in the half-wheel is like the shattered hope of the man who wears a flower hat,
and a flower hat,
This is the first time that the pipa is waking up in the middle of the night, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the night.
With a cap of flowers on his head,
and bars of chain on his body, he jumped madly and laughed madly in the path of the light of day.
After he had finished, he said, "Blow out your lamp, and she is waiting on the other side of the grave.
Waiting for you to kiss, waiting for you to kiss, waiting for you to kiss, waiting for you to kiss!
Farewell Kangqiao
Gently I go, just as I gently come;
I gently beckon to bid farewell to the clouds of the western sky.
The golden willow by the river,
is the bride in the sunset; the colorful shadows in the waves, rippling in my heart.
The green floating heart on the soft mud, oily underwater waving; in the soft waves of Kangqiao,
I am willing to be a water plant!
The pool under the shade of the elm,
is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky, crushed between the floating algae, precipitating a rainbow-like dream.
Dreaming? Hold up a long artemisia, and roam towards the greener grass,
The boat full of starlight, and sing in the starlight splendor.
But I can't sing,
Silence is the parting song; the summer bugs are silent for me; silence is the bridge tonight!
Silently I go, just as I quietly come;
I wave my sleeve, not taking away a cloud.
To the Oak Tree
If I love thee--/I will never be like the climbing camellias,/They will never use thy branches to show themselves;
/I will never be like the fond birds,/They will never repeat their monotonous songs for the shade of the green.
/ Nor more than like a fountain,
/ which sends cool solace all year round;
/ Nor more than like a perilous peak,
/ which adds to your height,
/ which sets off your majesty. / Or even daylight / Or even spring rain
/ No, these are not enough / I must be a kapok near you,
/ Standing with you as the image of a tree. /Roots that hold each other in the ground;
/leaves that touch each other in the clouds. /With every wind, we greet each other,
/But no one understands our words/You have your iron and bronze branches,
/Like a sword or a halberd;/I have my red flowers,
/Like a heavy sigh,
/Or a valiant torch/ We share the cold waves, the winds, the thunder and the lightning,
/We enjoy the mist, the mist, and the rainbows,
/ As if we were separated forever. As if forever parted, yet for life
/That's great love,/Firmness is here/Love/Not only your great body,
/And where you hold on,/The ground beneath your feet.
The stars ----
(I)
The stars twinkle--- Deep blue space,
How can they ever be heard whispering to each other? In the silence, in the shimmering light, they praised each other y.
............
(131)
Ocean, what star has no light? What flower has no fragrance?
What time did my thoughts not have the sound of your waves?
Spring Water
(3-3)
The flower in the corner! When you are alone, the sky and the earth are small.
............
(VI.4)
The baby, in his trembling cry There are infinite mysterious words,
Brought from the first souls, To tell the world.
Paper Boats ---- From Mother
I never discarded a single piece of paper,
I always kept it
I kept it,
I folded it up into one very small boat,
and threw it down from the boat into the sea.
Some were swept into the windows of the boats by the winds of the sky,
and some were wetted by the waves and stained on the bows.
I was still not discouraged from folding them every day,
always hoping that one would flow to where I wanted him to go.
Mother, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
don't be surprised if it comes into your dream for no reason.
It was folded with tears by your beloved daughter,
begging him to return with her love and sorrow!
The Guilty Middle Age [Modern Poetry]
Author: A Small Mountain Village
The best time of my life
was like running water, fading away
Middle age has become the main body of the world
I don't need to pay attention to the heavy burdens of my heart and shoulders
A hand raised, a foot thrown, and a foot thrown.
It is not necessary for me to pay attention to the heavy burdens on my heart and shoulders
A hand raised and a foot thrown
It is obvious
"An Appointment in the Wind" [Modern Poetry]
Author: a small mountain village
Let's wave goodbye like this
Where in this world is there
a river that can be turned back
Let's make a promise to meet each other, and let's make a promise to meet
Make sure that we don't forget about each other
"Like a Flower" [Modern Poetry].
Author: Yangmei Turban
The chain of sterling silver is my graffiti on your chest
The wind and flowers are the graffiti of the city that never sleeps
A letter that can't be sent
It is the graffiti on the tip of my heart
"The sound of Autumn is far away, but the love remains the same" [Modern Poetry]
Author: Heart Springs Ding Dong Ringing
The sound of autumn is far away, we meet in winter,
Deep in the path of the heart, the sound of the piper is still melodious,
The night of the wind, miss, entangled in the two lonely,
The moon halo is cold and let the lovesickness be born frozen,
So sex, cloaked in the shimmering light, starry night journey
Curve the horse on the ancient road, through the red dust,
Dust rolls the way to and from the time of the road.
West Lake at Night
--- Mountain and Water People
Gwei Xiang Shuji is lost,
Nightlight Suti sleeps.
The Peak Tower has a good view of the square,
Golden Mountain is far away from the right.
Xu Bai's ancient love,
Maybe the Song Emperor's pity.
It's not for the beauty of the red face,
It's for the drunkenness of the West Lake.
Ode to a Thousand Lakes
--Shanshui Man
Remote view of the water and grass floating in clusters,
Near the small islands surrounded by blue.
Wonderful islands and beasts are a thousand times more scenic,
Ten times more Liang will be better than seven ho.
Lying on the wooden fence at night and listening to the waves.
The Sea Lord can be pleased with the beauty of the fairyland,
The celestial fairy should be invited to have a good time.
Taihu Lake Chant
---Shan Shui Ren
September's lotus seedpods are yellowing,
Autumn winds and smoky waves send us more pleasure.
The water villa does not know how to wake up for one night,
and the egrets make ten thousand voices to make you walk.
The ancient town of Nanxun
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ancient town of Nanxun, the dome of the arch of the court gallery show.
If you ask when this view is available?
Directly to the ancient Southern Song Autumn.
Some people
Author: Zang Kejia (1905-2004)
Some people are alive
He is dead;
Some people are dead
He is still alive.
There are men
who ride on the heads of the people, "Ho, how great I am!"
There are those
who stoop down to be cattle and horses for the people.
Some people
carve their names into the stone and want to be immortalized;
some people
would rather be weeds, waiting for the fire to burn underground.
There are those
who live so that others may not;
and there are those
who live so that the majority may live better.
The one who rides on the head of the people,
the people wrestle him down;
the one who serves as an ox and horse to the people,
the people remember him forever!
He who carves his name into stone,
the name rots sooner than the corpse;
wherever the spring wind blows,
there are green weeds everywhere.
He who lives so that no one else can live,
his downfall can be seen;
he who lives for the betterment of the majority,
the masses lift him high and high.
For a Friend
Zhu Ziqing
Your hands are like torches, your eyes are like waves, your words are like stones,
How can I forget? You flew across the Dongting Lake, you flew across the Yangtse River;
You will build the red kingdom of heaven on earth! The earth is full of thorns, the earth is full of foxes and rabbits, the earth is full of corpses; you will be a quick sword, a quick sword that cuts through the thorns!
You will be a lion's roar, and the foxes and rabbits will run away!
You will be a thunderbolt that will wake up the corpses! I love to see your horse ride through the dust--
For a while, it's gone! I love to see your cane, that iron of iron;
It has color, and weight, and clank!
I think thou art a gale of flying sand to blow down the palace of gold that cannot be shaken!
That palace of gold! Oooh---blowing! I saw you early one summer morning last year:
How haggard are you? Your eyes are still bleary, and your hair is too long!
But the heat of your blood was doubled! I am tossed in the mortar,
as if I were being roasted!
You are like cigar smoke,
You are like brandy, you are like red hot peppers, how can I forget you?
The Pool
Afterglow
Sixteen handles of laurel cracked the green glass, and a few romances hid under umbrellas
Mine, the ones I didn't bring, my romances, are on the lower reaches of the river
If only the Pool were more glassy, it would shine a light on my sorrows
If only the Grasshopper Boat were more grasshoppery, my sorrows would have been extinguished
Twenty-four minutes past eight o'clock. The drawbridge is still awake Summer vacation has just begun Summer is young
The laughter of sophomore girls flies over the water Dragonflies fly in, dragonflies fly out
Fly to you. If you are perched on the stern of my boat, how light this boat should be
The two pulps should remember who is Xishi, who is Fan Li
Then paddle to Taihu Lake, paddle to Dongting, listen to the cries of the apes of the Tang Dynasty
Paddle to the gurgling river of the sky, see your hair, in the myths, and then overturn the boat.
It's also a beautiful traffic accident You weave your brocade on the other side of the river
I'll play my flute on this side of the river From the last eve to the next eve
Paper boat ---- to send my mother
Bingxin
I never want to give up a piece of paper,
I always keep
Keeping it,
folding it up to form a one by one very small boat.
I'm not going to give up a piece of paper,
I'm not going to give up a piece of paper. I have always kept it,
and folded it into a very small boat,
and thrown it down from the boat into the sea.
Some were blown by the wind into the windows of the boats,
and some were wetted by the waves and stained on the bows.
I was still not discouraged from folding them every day,
always hoping that one would flow to where I wanted him to go.
Mother, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
don't be surprised if it comes into your dream for no reason.
It was folded with tears by your beloved daughter,
begging him to return with her love and sorrow!
Modern Poetry Knowledge:
Poetry is a literary genre of the main feelings, it is lyrical, highly condensed, concentrated to reflect the social life, with a rich imagination, rhythmic, rhyming beauty of the language and the form of the arrangement of the parallels to express thoughts and feelings. Poetry is a form of language art with rhythm, rhyme and emotional color, and it is also the oldest and most basic form of literature in the world. It is also the oldest and most basic form of literature in the world. Poetry originated from the social life in the ancient times, and it is a rhythmic and emotional form of language produced by labor and production, love between the two sexes, and primitive religion. Shangshu. Yu Shu: "Poetry speaks of the will, songs sing of the word, sound is based on the eternal, the rhythm and the sound." The Book of Rites. Records of Music: "Poetry, to speak its will; song, to sing its voice; dance, to move its face; the three are in the heart, and then musical instruments from it." In the early days, poetry and song were combined with music and dance. Poetry, i.e., lyrics, were always sung in conjunction with music and dance in actual performances. Later, poetry, song, music and dance developed separately and became independent, and poetry and song were collectively called poetry.
I'm in sixth grade! You're lucky! ~~~