Poetry describing purple iris flowers

1. Poems about Brazilian iris

2. Poems about iris

Poems about Brazilian iris 1. Poems about iris

Iris (Xi Murong)

Iris

-----Please remain silent and never answer me again

After all We must leave this soft and clear world

A spring day with a slightly moist wind

This surrounding light is meticulous and tirelessly

presents all the processes of life

Even if you try to expand the small joy

Try to extend the peaceful happiness that you are savoring

as long as possible

The journey from the beginning to the end

The mysterious distance is still unmeasurable

(This boundless loneliness, this necessary burden)

All memories are not far away from me

Just as we walked together, the moss marks reflected in the silent forest

But there is an uncertain mood, even if I find the appropriate words

Gradually I can no longer control them

In the end, I am to you

Just like the deep purple iris is to this spring

In the end, we still have to turn our backs on each other

(At this moment, this extremely beautiful time has finally come to an end)

Reference material: Xi Murong’s poetry collection

2. Poems describing iris flowers

Not necessarily calamus flowers, they only grow towards Shicheng.

Sincerely, the king’s eyes have feelings for everything he sees.

How I wished I could meet you

But I couldn’t

On such a desolate and silent sandbank

When the weather turns sunny

When the wind turns colder

All thoughts and movements gradually become slow

What kind of dusk will it be

And now Iris flowers are still blooming randomly

Here and there they are growing everywhere

Bravely showing her passion and her little heart to the world around her

From pure white to blue and purple

It seems to be telling the story that I have longed for all my life

Please let the soul of the flower die before it leaves the branch

Let me stay temporarily

The transition of time from love to violence

The difference between this transition is extremely subtle

It is also extremely sharp

Especially me once

How I wished I could meet you

3. Poems about iris

A touch of iris / ten The moon is pale blue, and an iris is blooming.

Gently, exuding a fresh fragrance. In the colorful summer, you smiled, not the charming sneer of the roses beside you, nor the generous beauty of the peonies.

Your smile is bright and simple, like the sunny smile of a child in June. In harmony, the love for summer and the expectation for summer.

However, in this season of pink and plum blossoms, only the shadow of a butterfly looks at the flowers and grass around you, but it does not pick up the mellow honey on your body; the soft moonlight caresses the petals beside you. The petal flower leaves you alone in the lonely night. On a cold and desolate morning, the round dewdrops, with a hint of weariness, dripped on your petite petals, turning into crystal and lonely tears.

Iris, you also long for your own butterfly and the moon that touches your flowers. But, on that morning of tears, the cool breeze brought the desolate autumn, and the flowers fell, but I couldn't bear to see you withered, withered, and painfully buried in the autumn soil.

If I were a butterfly, I would ruthlessly pluck you off and protect your bright smile forever; if I were a moon, I would decisively burn you and take away your pure fragrance, along with That lonely love is sealed deeply and spreads throughout the everlasting soft moonlight. Perhaps this is an eternal, selfish fantasy of mine.

Iris 1 At night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain, I found five iris flowers, and I called them lovely.

Like the memory of a woman who, for a time, lay beside them for a while and then woke up, got up, and walked away, her hair lingering on their sweet tongues.

I really want to rip these petals off with my teeth. I really want to study these hairy selves, their beauty and indifference.

They have been holding their breath for a lifetime and open up. 2 We are not lovers, brothers or sisters, though we wander hand in hand through the halls trembling and stirring when thoughts and desires are extinguished, and in this dream of life, in this life of sleep, we die awake - purple turns to blue, turns to black , black - all this is what an iris prays for, when she prays for the destination.

4. Sentences describing the blooming of iris flowers

The iris flower is large and graceful, very similar to a lily. But lilies have six petals, but people don't know that iris has only three petals, and the remaining three outer petals are sepals that protect the buds. It's just that the three petal-shaped sepals are so similar to flower petals that they often look fake and difficult to identify. Because Europeans often call iris "lily", many people think that France's national flower is lily. Although they understand this, they have become accustomed to it and cannot change their ways.

, Hey! The buds that were still green yesterday turned red overnight, and the buds grew rapidly, which made me feel happy. ah! The half-purple and half-green bud has opened! They open about the size of a water bottle cap. There is a small bunch of light yellow stamens in the center of the flower, which is very beautiful. Like a beautiful butterfly, when a breeze blows, the butterfly dances gracefully.

5. Asking for ancient essays on iris

People upstairs, please don’t mislead others. Iris and iris are not the same flower. Iris is much taller than iris, and the leaves are different, and Iris is longer. By the water. Their flowering periods are also different. Iris blooms in this season, that is, April to May, and calamus blooms in June.

Some people usually call some iris plants calamus. In fact, this is just a common name and is irregular. The real calamus is a plant of the Araceae family. The inflorescence is candle-shaped and yellow-brown. It blooms in summer and autumn. Perhaps because of the similarities in texture of their leaves, some iris plants like to grow near water, and there is also a plant that is very similar to iris called Gladiolus (also known as "gladiolus"), which is a common fresh cut flower. ).

As for the ancient sayings about requirements, they are generally rare in ancient Chinese poetry. But there are more in Greek mythology. For example, iris means "rainbow" in Greek mythology. And although the iris originated in China, it is the national flower of France. And personally I think Brazilian iris or French iris are also beautiful.

Iris is used more often in modern literature. For example, Xi Murong, Shu Ting, and Baby Annie also like iris very much. Iris can be seen in many of her articles.

Iris

Xi Murong

- Please remain silent and never answer me again.

We must leave this soft and clear after all

The spring day with a slightly moist wind

The light around us is meticulous and painstakingly presented

The world that controls all life processes

Try to expand even the smallest joy

Try to extend the peaceful happiness that you savor

with concentration

The maze-like distance from the starting point to the end point is still unmeasurable

(This boundless loneliness, this necessary burden)

All The memory is not very far away from me

Just in the silent forest reflected in the moss marks we once walked together

But there is an uncertain mood even if it is

After finding the right words, I gradually lost control

In the end, I am with you

Just like the deep purple iris is to this spring

We must abandon each other in the end

(And now this time of extreme beauty has finally come to an end)

Poems about iris flowers 1. Poems about iris flowers

A touch of iris flower text/October blue

A touch of iris flower bloomed.

An iris flower bloomed.

Gently,

exuding fresh fragrance.

In the colorful summer,

you smiled,

not the charming sneer of the rose beside you,

nor the generosity of the peony beauty.

Your smile,

bright and simple,

is like the sunny smile of a child in June.

In harmony,

The love for summer and the expectation for summer.

However,

In this season of pink and plum blossoms,

only the shadow of a butterfly looks at the flowers and grass around you,

But I don’t pick the mellow honey from you;

The soft moonlight caresses the petals of the flowers beside you,

But I just leave you alone in the lonely night.

A cold and desolate morning,

The round dewdrops,

with a tired heart,

dripped on your petite body On the petals,

turned into crystal and lonely tears.

Iris,

You also long for your own butterfly and the moon that touches your flowers.

But,

On that morning of tears, the cool breeze brought the desolate autumn,

The flowers fell, but I couldn’t bear to see you wither, Withered,

painfully buried in the autumn soil.

If I were a butterfly,

I would ruthlessly pluck you off and protect your bright smile forever;

If I were the moon,

It will burn you decisively and take away your pure fragrance, together with that lonely love, seal it deeply,

and spread it throughout the soft moonlight that will never die.

Perhaps,

this is an eternal, selfish

fantasy of mine.

Irises

At night, in the wind, on the edge of the rain,

I found five iris flowers, I call them cute.

Like a woman who once lay beside them

then woke up, got up, and walked away, her hair lingering on their sweet tongues

memory.

I really want to rip these petals off with my teeth.

I really want to study these hairy selves,

their beauty and indifference. They

have been holding their breath for a lifetime

open, open.

We are not lovers, brothers or sisters,

Though we wander hand in hand through the halls

Trembling as thoughts and desires

Extinguish, and in this dream of life,

In this sleep life, we die awake-

Purple turns to blue, turns

Black, black - all this

is what an iris prays for,

When she prays, her destination.

2. Poems about iris

Iris (Xi Murong)

Iris

-----Please keep it Silence, never answer me again

I must leave this soft and clear scene in the end

The spring day with the slightly moist wind

The surrounding light is meticulous and painstakingly

A world that presents all life processes

Try to expand even the smallest joys

Savor the peaceful happiness with concentration

Extend it as much as possible

The mysterious distance from the starting point to the end point is still unmeasurable

(This boundless loneliness, this necessary burden)

All the memories are not far away from me

Just in the silent forest where the moss marks we once walked together are reflected

But there is something uncertain Even if I find the right words

I can no longer control my mood

In the end, I am to you

just like the deep purple iris is to this Spring

In the end, we still have to turn our backs on each other

(And at this moment, this extremely beautiful time will eventually become extinct)

Reference: Xi Murong's Poetry Collection

3. There is a poem about iris

Shu Ting "The Singing Iris" The Singing Iris Shu Ting My sadness has raised a faint halo because of your shining - —Inscription 1. On your chest, I have become a singing iris. The gentle breeze of your breath blows me. Cover me temporarily with your broad palm under the tinkling moonlight. 2. Can I dream now? Snow land.

The ancient wind chimes and leaning tower of the big forest. Can I have a real Christmas tree? It is decorated with skates, divine flutes and fairy fireworks, showing off the joy like a fountain. Can I run down the street laughing? 3. Where is my little basket? Where is my autumn harvest with grass growing in the fertile fields? Where is my old kettle? My thirsty lunch break under the scaffolding. My bow that has never been tied. My English practice: I love you, love you. The folded and elongated figure under the street lamp, the tears I shed and swallowed countless times, and don’t ask me why I turned away from the past slightly in my dream, whimpering quietly and stubbornly like a cricket hiding in the corner. Fourth, let me have a peaceful dream. Don't leave my very short street. We have gone a long, long time. Let me have a peaceful dream. Don't disturb me. Ignore the hovering crow. As long as there is no cloud in your eyes, let me have a ridiculous dream. Don’t laugh at me. I want to walk into your poems every day in the green land and return to you crimson every night. Let me have a wild dream. Forgive me. And tolerate my tyranny when I say: You are mine! You are my dear, don't blame me... I even long for the thousands of waves of passion to drown you thousands of times. When our heads are next to our heads on the high-speed train heading to the moon, the world makes a sharp roar. Falling backwards, time spins crazily and falls like an avalanche. When we quietly look at each other, our souls are like a vortex in a field in an art exhibition. The sun draws us deeper and deeper. Silence, fulfillment, harmony. Six, we hold hands like this. Sit in the dark and listen to the ancient and young voice running through our hearts. Even if an emperor knocks on the door, you don't have to answer it. But... Seven wait? What is that? What sound wakes up the scarlet beat in my veins, when I'm dizzy, the ever-awake sea, what is that? Whose will makes the eyes of my body and soul open at the same time, "You must carry the cross and follow me every day." The eight-umbrella-shaped dream flies like a dandelion and is surrounded by a ring of mountains. Nine bougainvillea of ??my emotions, you would rather return to you in life and death. The windy hillside, don't shake the wild swan in my nature on the vase, you have to cross the unobstructed winter even with a gunshot wound, don't miss the spring scenery with railings. However, my name and my belief have entered the runway at the same time. A single record representing the nation. I have no right to rest. The sprint of life has no end, only speed. I raise my face to the sky where the highest judgment will be made. Wind, you can take me there, but I still have to admit it for my own heart. The rights of those who are not happy 11 My dear, raise your lamp to shine on me and let me spread far and wide with my poems. The bell of ideals is behind the swamp in my hometown, the night is so soft, the lights and the city are clustered in my arms. Inside, the light arched and let my poems continue to trek with me. The avenue twisted its tentacles and shouted loudly: You can't pass through the land crisscrossed by springs, but the road signs were handed over to the flowers. Twelve I walked through the city streets intertwined with steel teeth and walked towards the square. I walked into the pumpkin shed, walked out of the highland barley field, and went deep into the wilderness. Life constantly molded me into a heavy yoke on one side and a flower crown on the other, but no one knew that I was still your stupid girl who couldn’t do arithmetic. No matter how the symphony of the times, it immediately swept away my response. You can still recognize my unique voice. Thirteen I stand upright, boring, proud, and extremely young. The storm of pain is in my heart, and the sun is in my forehead. My yellow skin is bright and transparent, and my black hair is rich and lush. Chinese mother, I give it to you. The children who responded responded by renaming me fourteen times. They called me your "birch sapling" and your "little blue star." Mom, if a bullet comes, hit me first. I smiled, and my eyes were exceptionally clear. Mother's shoulders are slowly sliding down. Don't cry anymore. The blood of red flowers and grasses is burning on the top of your waves... Fifteen. At that time, my beloved, don't be sad. Although no one will lift up the light-colored dress and pass through the sound of cicadas. The rainy alley knocks on your stained glass window, although there are no more naughty hands ringing the alarm clock, saying angrily: Now go to your places and return to your route. Don't shape my simple image on the jade base. Don't accompany the lonely guitar. Turn the calendar back page by page. Your position is under that flag. Ideal makes pain shine. These are the last words I asked the olive tree to leave you.

Come to me together, doves. Come to me in the morning. You will find me in people's love. I will find you. The emotion expressed by the singing iris: the confusion of the younger generation and the pursuit of love. This poem is sometimes sad. Sometimes optimistic, and ending in a cheerful and confident way. It makes people think that the iris, which represents love and beauty, will definitely bloom.

4. Sentences describing the blooming of iris flowers

5. What does the iris say?

The iris represents the messenger of love. Although the iris has thick roots and leaves as broad as a knife, it has very strong vitality.

But because it is a raw material for making perfume, it is quite respected and widely used. So its flower language is - beautiful.

People born with the blessing of this flower have a soft and charming temperament and are good at socializing, but they are not people who play in the world. He has some plans for the future. He can play, read and work. It can be said that this is the lifestyle of this kind of person.

Isn’t this kind of life very beautiful? Irises Most iris flowers are blue-purple in color. Their scientific name is: Iris tectorum. The flowers resemble dancing butterflies. In May, when the iris blooms, you can see blue butterflies flying among the green leaves, as if they want to spread the news of spring to the distance.

The French regard the iris as their national flower. Because according to legend, when King Clovis of the first dynasty of the Kingdom of France was baptized, God gave him a gift, which was an iris.

In France, the iris is a symbol of light and freedom. Iris is the collective name for a family of herbaceous flowering plants.

This flower is composed of an envelope composed of 6 petal-like leaves, 3 or 6 stamens, and an ovary enclosed by a pedicle. The plant's name comes from the rainbow, God's messenger and link between Earth and other worlds.

There is also a legend that the rainbow once saved the life of the Frankish King in the 6th century. When he saw the rainbow rising from the Rhine River, he knew that the water at this time was shallow enough, so he crossed the river. Escaped the enemy's pursuit. Irises grow in Japan, China, Siberia, and nearly the entire temperate world.

Iris is so called because its petals are shaped like the tail of a kite. Its genus name iris means "rainbow" in Greek, which refers to the rich colors of the flowers. Generally, flower traders and flower arrangers are commonly called "Alice" based on the transliteration of the genus name.

Alice is the goddess of the rainbow in Greek mythology. She is the messenger of the gods and the mortal world. Her main task is to carry the souls of kind people back to heaven through the rainbow bridge between heaven and earth. To this day, Greeks often plant this flower in cemeteries in the hope that the soul of a person after death can entrust Alice to take him back to heaven. This is also the origin of the flower language of "Messenger of Love".

Iris represented "strength" and "eloquence" in ancient Egypt. Most iris flowers are blue-purple flowers that look like dancing butterflies.

In May, when the iris blooms, you can see blue butterflies flying among the green leaves, as if they want to spread the news of spring to the distance. The Israelis generally believe that yellow iris is a symbol of "gold", so there is a custom of planting iris in cemeteries in the hope that it will bring wealth in the next life.

Monet also planted iris in his garden at Giverny; he used it as his theme, leaving a scene of iris full of natural vitality on the canvas. The colorful iris each represents a different meaning.

White iris represents innocence, yellow represents eternal friendship, enthusiasm and cheerfulness, blue represents admiration for the other person’s elegance and generosity or secret admiration, and purple represents love and good luck. Irises are members of the genus Iris, a collective name for a family of herbaceous flowering plants.

This flower is composed of an envelope composed of 6 petal-like leaves, 3 or 6 stamens, and an ovary enclosed by a pedicle. The main color of iris is blue-purple, and it is known as the "blue enchantress". The genus name of iris is iris, "Alice" because its petals are shaped like the tail of a kite.

Alice is the goddess of the rainbow in Greek mythology. She is the messenger between the gods and the mortal world. The plant's name comes from the rainbow, God's messenger and link between Earth and other worlds.

There is also a legend that the rainbow once saved the life of the Frankish King in the 6th century. When he saw the rainbow rising from the Rhine River, he knew that the water at this time was shallow enough, so he crossed the river. Escaped the enemy's pursuit. France is a country of flowers, and its capital, Paris, is known as the "Flower Capital".

The warbler is regarded as the national flower of the Kingdom of France. Because according to legend, when King Clovis of the first dynasty of the Kingdom of France was baptized, God gave him a gift, which was an iris.

In France, the iris is a symbol of light and freedom. Iris represented "strength" and "eloquence" in ancient Egypt.

The Israelis generally believe that yellow iris is a symbol of "gold", so they have the custom of planting iris in the hope of bringing wealth in the next life. Monet also planted iris in his garden at Giverny; he used it as his theme, leaving a scene of iris full of natural vitality on his canvas.

The colorful iris each represents a different meaning. White iris represents innocence, yellow represents eternal friendship, enthusiasm and cheerfulness, blue represents admiration for the other person's elegance and generosity or secret admiration, and purple represents love and good luck.

This year’s iris is the first large-scale introduction at the Shixiang Lake (Tulip) Tourism Festival. The main colors are: blue and purple, snow white, golden yellow, and silver gray. When the iris blooms, you can see blue butterflies flying among the green leaves, as if they want to spread the news of spring to the distance.

Iris, the Chinese name comes from the fact that its petals resemble the tail of a kite. The kite (glede) is a kind of bird in the Accipitridae family. "Poetry·Daya·Hanlu" says, "The kite flies to the violent sky, and the fish leaps into the abyss."

Its Greek/English name is iris, which means It is called a rainbow because this flower comes in red, orange, purple, blue, white, and black colors and is worthy of the name rainbow. Its French name is fleur-de-lis or fleur-de-lys, which is not very famous, but its Old French spelling is fleur-de-luce, and luce is the Latin word for light, meaning light.

So this flower is "flower of light" in French. "The national flower of France is the fragrant iris (fleur de lis) of the Iris family. It is a large, beautiful and graceful flower that is very similar to a lily.

Iris and lily belong to two completely different genera Although at first glance, it seems that both have six "petals", everyone knows that the iris only has three petals, and the remaining three outer petals are sepals that protect the flower buds. Just because these three petal-shaped sepals are long They are so similar to the petals that they are often confused with the real ones, making it difficult to identify them. In addition, half of the "petals" of iris are tilted upwards, and the other half are rolled downwards, while the petals of lilies are all upward.

There are also some iris flowers. There are also three long tongue-shaped petals grown deep in the center of the flower. Because Europeans often call iris "lily", many people think that the national flower of France is lily. "

In modern Chinese, fleur-de-lis is often translated as "golden lily", and the correct translation should be "iris". Fleur de lis.

As far back as ancient Egypt, iris was the same as lotus, lily, and palm leaf.