Modern poetry of rape flowers

1. Poetry of Rape Flowers Modern Poetry 1: The ambition of Rape Flowers in March 1. Indulge in face. How many sweet words are shining in the yellow and tender sister flowers? How charming and beautiful this butterfly is. The gift of sunshine is reflected in bright eyes. Excited Iraqis Part 2: When rape flowers are in full bloom, when rape flowers are in full bloom, bees flock to them. The wind blows my long thoughts. When golden rape blossoms are in full bloom, butterflies. When the flying clouds touched my cold heart and my light bloomed, I was wandering alone and my feelings were cut off. When love turns into sadness, it is destined to be burning sadness ... Chapter III: Happiness of flying rape flowers. In the sunny afternoon, I flew myself in the sea of rape flowers, breathing the thick and faint taste precipitated in my memory. I have never forgotten that it was the feeling of sunshine, just like your smile. The breeze blew over me. There are beautiful memories left in my arms, and a piece of golden carpet deposited covers my dream, like stepping into the bright avenue of a temple, laughing and running like a child just to breathe with your breath. Little yellow flowers filled my boundless green sky, then rotated like snowflakes and fluttered gently with the waltz music. I wrap every flower with the whitest clouds in the sky and record every fragrance with colorful lines on butterfly wings, but I just don't want to. I miss this feeling of happiness. I stand alone in the middle of the rape sea, waiting for the thin wind that has been cut again and again to blow my white corner and melt my heart in this golden ocean with yellowish pollen. Every inch, as long as it is where you are, must be passionate love. Even if a person looks at the rape blossoms from a distance, our original romantic and firm dreams will always bloom. Breathe happiness between courses. Sprinkle a golden field. Who opened the gold warehouse and dyed the earth golden? People have endless reverie. Go back to my hometown in March and walk on the Panjiang River. Rape blossoms have spread all over the southwest, Panjiang and my hometown. Hills and depressions are covered with golden fields. Rape flowers in the southwest aroused people's hearts and ignited the villagers' hopes for a bumper harvest. Look at the butterflies dancing in twos and threes in the golden world. Flying in the forest, you see hardworking bees busy collecting honey on the stamens. Look at that couple in colorful clothes. They took a photo of Zhang Qianying in the rape field with a camera. Cauliflower was blooming in the rape field, leaving a faint fragrance. Who planted rape flowers in this garden? Who spilled the gold here? They are relatives of my hometown. Oh, they work hard with sweat in their hometown. Last winter, when I went home, the villagers saw the moon before dawn. Colors are busy in that dark land. They can't care about the crying of children at home and the smell of food on the stove. They are constantly calling for hard-working cows to sow and sow this golden harvest. Looking at this intoxicating golden harvest, my thoughts have been hard to leave my hometown for a long time. Back to my hometown in March, I walked on the Panjiang River to see rape blossoms everywhere, and the whole southwest was yellow. I hope. Be a butterfly and dance with the fragrance of rape flowers everywhere. I would like to be a flower-picking bee and brew mellow honey for people. I was intoxicated by the fragrance of rape flowers. I am infatuated with my hometown Panjiang. I integrate my soul into my hometown and share the golden harvest with the villagers.

Edited on 202 1-02- 15.

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2. Why don't you read cauliflower in ancient poetry in modern poetry? "Cauliflower"-The yellow calyx of Gan Long in Qing Dynasty is covered with thick green leaves, and thousands of villages squeeze new oil.

Love the people's livelihood for the people, not idle flowers and weeds. Stay in Xugongdian, a new town-Tangyang Wan Li with deep hedges and shady trees.

The child ran quickly to catch the yellow butterfly, but the butterfly suddenly flew into the vegetable garden and could not be found again. "Visit Du Xuanguan again"-Tang Yuxi's 100-acre courtyard is half covered with moss and peach blossoms are in full bloom.

Where Taoism returned, Liu Lang came again today. Su Fengqu Monastery —— Tang Wen listens to the fresh fragrance in the eastern suburb of Yundong, and the fragrance is as far as dust.

A guest house is tired, and a monk draws an old friend on the wall. The mulberry scenery in Wotian is late, and the cauliflower in Ye Ping is spring.

I miss Yan family color more, and the breeze is white. "The title of Liang Xian's official residence"-Tang Qiji has a high room on the side of Wu Wang Dian, and the shadow of Nanxuan is getting longer and longer.

Blowing the wild wind in the garden, the peach leaves are green, and the spring dew cauliflower is yellow. The hanging lamp just silently goes backwards, and the front of the case is slim.

Knowing that there is a tiger flowing back to the dream, the temple door is loose and the monk dies. "Peace is on the Road"-Wang Qing Wen Zhi The spring rain moistens things quietly and weeping willows at night, and the spring water is full of new students.

At dusk, the wind blows across the plain, and flowers and vegetables are mixed with tofu pudding. "Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous" —— Plums and apricots in Fan Chengda in Song Dynasty are plump, wheat is gray, and cauliflower is sparse.

No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying. Article-Zheng Song Xun sees the river in early spring.

Distinguish the masts. Infinite green wheat, cauliflower yellow.

There is hate today, tears streaming down her face, and the sunset is red several times. It's not a slave house, and it's desolate.

"Man Jiang"-Lu Yuan and Wen Gui tried to check the spring scenery, but there was none. Outside the desert city, the grass withered and crowed.

Yellow dyed cauliflower is unintentional, and green painted willow leaves are vulgar. Memories of prosperity, unlike youth travel, are sad.

Tang dock brocade, pear garden jade. Yi Yan dance, Ying Gechun.

Clear sky, loss and golden valley of Wuqiao. There is endless fragrance in the thread, and when I return, the strings ring one by one.

Afraid of the sunset, the shadows scattered near dusk, burning silver candles. Yuan Fengzizhen, the "Father of Ying Ge Song Garden" in front of the door.

Listen to dad with a smile. Pulley is holding the urn to water the cup, with a little Yangchun cream.

Butterflies also fly between cauliflowers and fly away when the warm wind blows. Apricot buds are fragrant with red leek and tender spring, which is a drinking place next to the old earthen basin.

3. Ask for a poem describing rape flowers (modern poetry is also acceptable) "Cauliflower"-Qingganlong.

Yellow calyx thick green leaves, thousands of villages press new oil.

Love the people's livelihood for the people, not idle flowers and weeds.

Su Xinshi Xugong Store-Tang Yang Wanli

The hedge is thin and deep, and the flowers at the head of the tree are not shaded.

The child ran quickly to catch the yellow butterfly, but the butterfly suddenly flew into the vegetable garden and could not be found again.

Revisiting Du Xuan —— Don Liu Yuxi

Half of the 100-acre courtyard is covered with moss and peach blossoms are in full bloom.

Where Taoism returned, Liu Lang came again today.

The monk's home in Sufengqu, Tang Wen, Ting Yun

The eastern suburbs are fresh and fragrant as dust.

A guest house is tired, and a monk draws an old friend on the wall.

The mulberry scenery in Wotian is late, and the cauliflower in Ye Ping is spring.

I miss Yan family color more, and the breeze is white.

4. What are the modern poems describing rape flowers? 1, March rape blossoms, indulgence, handsome face.

Sister flowers, how many sweet words twinkle. Hump jiaozi is so charming and beautiful.

The gift of sunshine is reflected in bright eyes and excited Iraqis. 2. When the rape blossoms, when the rape blossoms, the bees are busy, and the wind blows my long thoughts and my golden color.

When rape blossoms, butterflies are flying, clouds affect my cold heart, my light, when rape blossoms. I am wandering alone, and the storm has blocked my feelings, my heart, when love has become a sad one.

Landing is destined to be fiery sadness ... Extended information:

There is also the following modern poem about rape flowers: Happy Flying in Rape Flowers. In the sunny afternoon, I set myself free in the sea of rape flowers, breathing the thick and faint taste precipitated in my memory, which I will never forget. It is as sunny as your smile. The cool wind passed through my arms, leaving beautiful memories. A piece of golden carpet deposited is covered with my dreams, like stepping into the bright avenue of a temple and running past with a smile like a child.

Just to breathe with your breath, I am covered with small yellow flowers, and the boundless green sky is spinning, fluttering gently with the waltz music like snowflakes. I wrap every flower with the whitest clouds in the sky and record every fragrance with colorful lines on butterfly wings, just don't want to miss this feeling of happiness.

A person is standing in the middle of the sea of rape flowers, waiting for the fine wind cut again and again to blow my white canthus and yellowish pollen. Melt your heart in this golden ocean. Every inch of it, as long as you are there, is bound to be warm love, even if a person looks at it from a distance.

Rapeseed fields will always bloom with our original romantic and firm dreams, breathing the flavor of happiness between the courts.

5. The ancient poem "Cauliflower" about rape flowers

-Qing Qianlong

Yellow calyx thick green leaves, thousands of villages press new oil.

Love the people's livelihood for the people, not idle flowers and weeds.

Su Xinshi xugong shop

-Don Yang Wanli

The hedge is thin and deep, and the flowers at the head of the tree are not shaded.

The child ran quickly to catch the yellow butterfly, but the butterfly suddenly flew into the vegetable garden and could not be found again.

Visit the landscape of Du Xuan again

-Don Liu Yuxi

Half of the 100-acre courtyard is covered with moss and peach blossoms are in full bloom.

Where Taoism returned, Liu Lang came again today.

Sufengqu monk's house

-Tang Wen Tingjun

The eastern suburbs are fresh and fragrant as dust.

A guest house is tired, and a monk draws an old friend on the wall.

The mulberry scenery in Wotian is late, and the cauliflower in Ye Ping is spring.

I miss Yan family color more, and the breeze is white.

Liang Xianxun's "Public House"

-Tang Qiji

There is a tall room on one side of the Wuwang Temple, and the curtain shadow Nanxuan is growing.

Blowing the wild wind in the garden, the peach leaves are green, and the spring dew cauliflower is yellow.

The hanging lamp just silently goes backwards, and the front of the case is slim.

Knowing that there is a tiger flowing back to the dream, the temple door is loose and the monk dies.

What is a peaceful way?

Wang Qing Wen zhi

At night, the spring rain moistens the weeping willows, and the new spring water is not satisfied with the pond.

At dusk, the wind blows across the plain, and flowers and vegetables are mixed with tofu pudding.

Four seasons pastoral miscellaneous interest

-Song Fan Chengda

Plum golden apricot fat, wheat white, cauliflower thin.

No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies are flying.

Black night cry

-Zheng Song Xun Chu

The river is faintly visible. Distinguish the masts. Infinite green wheat, cauliflower yellow. There is hate today, tears streaming down her face, and the sunset is red several times. It's not a slave house, and it's desolate.

Manjiang

—— Lu Yuan and Wen Gui

Try to check the spring, it's not in the thatched cottage at all. Outside the desert city, the grass withered and crowed. Yellow dyed cauliflower is unintentional, and green painted willow leaves are vulgar. Memories of prosperity, unlike youth travel, are sad. Tang dock brocade, pear garden jade. Yi Yan dance, Ying Gechun. Clear sky, loss and golden valley of Wuqiao. There is endless fragrance in the thread, and when I return, the strings ring one by one. Afraid of the sunset, the shadows scattered near dusk, burning silver candles.

Parrots parrot, father's garden

-Yuan Fengzi Zhen

Live in front of the mountain. Listen to dad with a smile. Pulley is holding the urn to water the cup, with a little Yangchun cream. Butterflies also fly between cauliflowers and fly away when the warm wind blows. Apricot buds are fragrant with red leek and tender spring, which is a drinking place next to the old earthen basin.

6. What poems describe rape flowers? Cauliflower-yellow calyx with thick green leaves, thousands of villages squeeze new oil. Love him for a living, not idle flowers and weeds. Stay in Xugongdian, a new city-Tangyang Wanli hedge has a deep sparse path, and the trees are not covered with flowers. The children scrambled to chase Huang Die and flew into the cauliflower, but there was nowhere to be found. "Visit Du Xuan again" Liu Lang came again today. "Sufengqu Monastery"-Tang Wen listens to the fresh fragrance in the eastern suburb of Yunyun, and the fragrance is as far as dust. The guest house stops tired, and the monk paints an old friend on the wall. Wotian Sangjing is late, and Ye Ping cauliflower is spring. I miss Yan family color more, and the breeze is white. "The title of Liang Xian's official residence"-Tang Qiji's Wuwang Temple has a high side. When the temple gate is broken, the monk dies. Things happened on the quiet road-Wang Wenzhi in Qing Dynasty, the spring rain moistened things quietly, and the spring water was not enough for the pond. At dusk, the wind blows on the plain, and the flowers of cauliflower and bean curd are mixed together. In the four seasons, plums are golden, apricots are fat, wheat is white, and cauliflower is thin. No one has ever landed on a long fence, but dragonflies and butterflies can fly. In the dark, several rounds of sunset. It's not a slave's house, and it's desolate. Man Jiang-Lu Yuan and Wen Gui tried to check the spring water, but it was all gone. This is a secluded hut. Outside the city, sleepy, the grass is dead. The yellow cauliflower has no mood, and the green leaves are muddy and vulgar. Memories of prosperity are sad, unlike youth travel. Tang Jin, pear garden jade burning silver candle. "Ying Ge Garden Dad"-Yuan Fengzizhen lives in front of the gate. Listen to Father Garden's laughter. The pulley holds the urn to water the cup, and a little spring rain pours it down. Butterflies also fly between cauliflowers, and go when the warm wind is warm. Apricot tip fragrant red leek tender spring, drinking place next to the old earthen basin.