20 10 all the great poets of the new year's new poetry club helped.

CCTV anchor 20 10 New Year New Poetry Club Poetry Draft (Theme: Hope) (20 10) Directory Unit 1 Eye of the Night 1, Zhu Ying's birthday "The Wind of the Ancient City" 2, Ai Qing's "Handcart" 3, Cang Kejia's "Refugees" 4. Ye Ting Prison Song 6. Chen's parting Unit 2 Light of Nature 7. Liu Hui's Wild Flowers on the Hillside 8. Han's Firefox 9 September 10 in Yang Xiaomin. A Flowering Tree by Xi Murong 165438. Gu Cheng's Goodbye 14, Haizi's Diary 15, Liang's Snow White Wall 16, Bai Lianchun's I'm with you 17, and Cui Jian's Nothing. Unit 4 Song of Hope. Do you think this wind is from Taikooli? However, indigenous people feel more peaceful in the wind. I think what I want to say is: it is natural, and I think people should enjoy this strong wind and this freedom. The wind in the ancient city blows the trees in front of the window. In the winter when peanuts and persimmons are harvested, the wind stops under the lights of ancient houses and by the bonfire in the middle of the night. The wind in the ancient city is like stormy waves. Ah, where is the homeless house? It's a canoe, right? Let it flow! Let it go everywhere! Then, you can blow the wind, the wind that makes a metallic sound, just like the wind that melts at night. The deeper the night, the quieter I feel. As long as you blow, blow, and wind, with the power of persuasion and joy, the lamp will be extremely bright. 1September 22, 949 Tram (Ren Zhihong) In the area where the Yellow River flows, Ai Qing's unicycle makes the gloomy sky convulse in the cold and silence. From the foot of a mountain to the foot of that mountain, the sadness of the people in the north is ringing. On the day when the ice and snow are frozen, wheelbarrows are portrayed on the gray loess layer between poor villages. The deep rut crosses the vast desert, and from one road to another, the sadness of the people in the north is intertwined. 1938 at the beginning, Chengdu, let me wake you up (Wang Shilin Jing Yidan) He Qifang does have a big and lively Beijing, but my Beijing is small and quiet. -Chengdu, B·R·Epomehk is desolate and narrow. It seems that people who have spent countless absurd nights are asleep. Although there were torches burning in the parade, there were also shrill alarms. Although children by boat are transported to Chongqing from various war zones, only the country is their parents. Although the enemy bombed Guangzhou day and night, our only remaining gateway to the sea, although the new Great Wall in Wan Li is the flesh and blood of frontline soldiers. I can't help sighing sadly like B·R·Epomehk: Although Chengdu is asleep, it is not a place for people to sleep, and this is not the time for people to sleep. This era makes me want to laugh and shout loudly, but Chengdu makes me lonely and reminds me of Mayekovsky's criticism of Ye Saining's suicide: "It's easier to die than to live." Once upon a time in the north, I sang like this: "North, you have been paralyzed for many years, and the robber's fist hit your joints." Why don't you slap him back? " North, I want to leave you and go back to my hometown, because in your rigid Yuan Ye, happiness is so little and winter is so long. "So when the cannon of Kyle Polo Luo Qiao rang, the arm that had been paralyzed for many years also raised the banner to resist, so the enemy took our Peiping, Shanghai and Nanjing, and countless cities groaned under his ravages, so everyone forgot their personal joys and sorrows, and the people of the whole country became a steel chain. I am a tiny link between long steel chains, but I am as stubborn as the strongest person. I finally opened my eyes like a blind man and saw the light in the depths of darkness. That great light came to me and came to my country ... 3 However, I am in Chengdu, where there is an atmosphere of enjoyment and laziness, and my concern for food is no less than the decline and fall of Rome. Moreover, because of filth, stale and sin, I stuffed everything into my stomach, so I fell asleep on a sunny morning, although there were torches burning in the parade. Let me open your window, your door, Chengdu, and let me wake you up. On this sunny morning! 1June, 938, Chengdu Prison sang Ye Ting, locked the door where people came in and out, opened the hole where dogs climbed out, and a voice shouted:-Climb out and set you free! I long for freedom, but I deeply know-how can a person's body climb out of a dog hole! I hope that one day the underground fire will burn my living coffin. I deserve to live forever in fire and blood! 1942 1 65438+1October 21Set out (Guan Tong, Zhang Zequn) When the grass quietly turns green at night, a message spreads all over the universe-what lurks in the shadows? What fire, what light, what trembling hands? Oh, stop asking; No matter how strange the road is, I don't remember how many snakes of memory crawl behind me, joy and bitterness, expectation and disappointment ... across the sloping wall, let the dying century sleep. When the grass grows green quietly at night, a message spreads gently in the universe-the frame-up of time can't stop us. Didn't the desolate and distant generation already have that bright first lamp? Cruel civilization is killing primitive humanity with hypocrisy and conspiracy. Let's be ourselves first. Every transformation has its own beginning and end. When the grass grows green quietly at night, a message softly spreads all over the universe-countless lines are drawn from a point. A point, a small point, leads to countless larger circles. Oh, we can't let cunning lies deceive us! Let's go, in the morning of every abandoned night! 1948 Unit 2 natural light wildflowers on the hillside (Sun Xiaomei) Liu Hui wildflowers are in full bloom, and the flowers all over the mountains are like the lips of the sky in spring. A teenager is singing. Who can hear the vague lyrics clearly? The wild flowers on the hillside, this small, broken color, seem to be fragments of time flowing out of cracks in spring. This heartbreaking beauty is even a little beautiful. Wild flowers in the distant sun, wild flowers in the rain, died on this mountain without any regrets. Who can see this scene if he has no comfort in roaming? Who can not be ashamed if he feels more and more pain in the face of the wild flowers on this hillside? The wind is blowing. The sound of the wind and the sun are intertwined. Who is not whipped by the whip of all things? The lost will disappear forever, and I will continue to travel on the earth. Who knows the secret of wild flowers? My tears will soon disappear, how can I not come out? Firefox Han Firefox crossed the snowfield, drawing a bleeding wound. Perhaps this is a kind of potential injury close to instinct, just like the wind can't help dancing on the grass tip, being next to silence, pale with blood loss, and having an indifferent, elegant and restrained mood. Washing eyes with ancient prescription liquid day and night has doused two piles of anxious fire in the pupil. Firefox is still beautiful, like a brilliant lie to lure me into a seemingly calm and violent oh, your fake fire, the red cloth performing magic, I count your mysterious footprints. A drop of rain in Egri's Tis flooded the summer, and your false lips can't be rolled up any more. The sun is far away from us. Not in my veins. In September (Li), in the distant sky of Yang Xiaomin, a bird landed on any pile of grain, and the day became full. I gradually bent down and merged into the most beautiful flowing water on the earth, and the red leaves floated across all the mountains and all the shores. I have matured in unobstructed blessings. Even on a gloomy rainy night, I look up with the best. The sun shines on you, and the sun shines on the edge of Li Qiu (Hai Xia). I have been to Kashgar in the west, Miao village in western Hunan, Jingbian in northern Shaanxi and many other small towns. Zhaotong, Yunnan ... These border areas with different dynasties and customs are now scattered on the edge of the desert or hidden in the mountains and forests. They are lonely corners, calmly content with the forgotten fate. What I miss most about these frontiers, big or small, are the red, white and wild flowers that are not desolate in the desolate land. Beyond the smog, you and I (Dong Qing) love is calling your name in the waves, and your name has spread beyond Qian Fan. The tide has gone to the left shoe print, and the right shoe print is afternoon dusk. "June" used to be a very sentimental book, with such a sad ending-when the sun sets, you still stare at the pure white in that man's eyes. He knelt down to you and looked at the beautiful sea of clouds yesterday afternoon. Why can you catch the blank light in all the light? Your eyes, once called clouds, are now called cigarettes, not goodbye (Yao Xuesong). We said goodbye for two years, but we always met again. Tonight, you really have to go, really, not goodbye. What else do you need? Cold hands, is it a letter without a handkerchief? Letter? In the paper world, there is our garden. We used to play in the garden and draw patterns on the clean steps. We danced with the pattern, forgetting that the sky was dark and the huge Mars was still spinning slowly. Now, let the flame finish reading. How warm it is with a big smile. I want you to look at me again. However, no, smoke is floating. Let's go, love is still burning. Let's leave now. Go further and further. When everything disappears in the sound of insects, you will see the fence of dawn. Please open the gate of the fence and stand quietly. Sleep standing like a flower. You will get sunshine in silence. This is my wish: snow-white wall (deer). Mom Liang, I see the snow-white wall. I went to the street to buy crayons in the morning and saw a worker struggling to draw a long fence. He turned and smiled at me. He asked me to tell all the children not to doodle on this wall in the future. Mom, I see the snow-white wall. It used to be dirty, with many rude words written on it. Mom, you cried, too. Because of those insults, dad left, forever. Whiter than the milk I drink, whiter than the wall, always flashing in my dream, it still stands on the horizon, shining charming light during the day, I love the white wall. Don't scribble on this wall, no, it's as gentle as mother's clear sky, do you hear? Mom, I see the snow-white wall. I have nothing (Sha Tong) Cui Jian. I have been asking you endlessly when you will come with me, but you always laugh at me for having nothing. I want to give you my pursuit, my freedom, but you always laugh at me for having nothing. Oh, when you walk with me and the earth flows beside you, you always laugh at me for having nothing. Why do you always laugh too much? Why do I always pursue? Do I always have nothing in front of you When are you going with me? I have been waiting for a long time. I'll tell you my last request. I will hold your hand. You'll come with me. At this moment, your hands are shaking. Are you telling me that you love me and have nothing? Oh, you can come with me. Unit 4 Song of Hope The bird of paradise (Juping) Dai Wangshu is flying, flying, spring, summer, autumn and winter, day and night, without rest. Yu Hua's bird of paradise. Drink dew when you are thirsty and dew when you are hungry. Yu Hua's bird of paradise, is this delicious for the immortals or homesickness for the sky? Did you come from heaven or went to heaven? Yuhua bird of paradise, in the vast blue sky, do you feel lonely on the road? If you come from heaven, Yu Hua's bird of paradise, can you tell us how desolate the garden was that day since Adam and Eve were exiled? Believe in the future (Yang Chen, Zhu Jun) My forefinger grasped my stove mercilessly like a spider's web. When the smoke of ashes sighed poverty and sadness, I still stubbornly spread the ashes of disappointment and wrote with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future. When my purple grapes become dewdrops in late autumn, when my flowers are nestled in other people's feelings, I still stubbornly write down on the desolate land with frosty vines: Believe in the future. I want to swing my finger to the horizon. I want to hold up the sea holding the sun with both hands, the warm and beautiful pen that shakes the morning light, and write it with a child's pen: Believe in the future. I firmly believe in the future because I believe in the eyes of people in the future-she has eyelashes to brush away the dust of history, and she has pupils to see through the chapters of the years. Whether people give us rotting flesh, those lost sorrows and the pain of failure, moved tears and deep sympathy, or contemptuous smiles and bitter ridicule. I firmly believe that people will give us a warm, objective and fair evaluation of our spine after countless explorations, losses, failures and successes. Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their comments. Friends, firmly believe in the future, unyielding efforts, youth who overcomes death, the future and love life. Blue Sailor (Chailu, Kang Hui) Li Ganglan Sailor Your voice is blue, and your crying has many small serrations. What do you want to saw off and take away? Take a deep breath and breathe in so much transparent air. Do you want to dilute the salty blue sea breeze? The sailor in blue jumped up from the beach and tore up a calendar. Put it in your trouser pocket, lift the Taiping axe and cut off your eyes. You floated into the sea blue and sky blue, waving a pair of fin drums and pushing the shore into the distance. Your amphibious blue sailor, blue sailor, swims in your blue uniform. Hidden in the ocean of blue mist, Nanhai sings a shallow song of Yangcheng in Cantonese and bleats the distant tsunami whistle. The sun is rough. That guy's beard itches in a large piece of blue. You're a blue whale anyway. After spring, you dive into shells and listen to the heart sounds of the sea. You can swim backstroke all summer. You can swim sideways and jump over any sea area lightly. If you are happy, you can spread your wings and fly to the Milky Way. It's easy for you. Was that spectacular meteor shower an air battle or a naval battle? Anyway, you've had enough fun. When the moonlight falls like a moonlight melody, you sleep like a moonlight island. When you wake up in the morning, untie your cable from that hibiscus tree, and there will always be a golden bird to wake it up. Fan down some feathers and jingle on your deck. In this dazzling light, the world suddenly became brilliant. The sky starts to get higher, the sea starts to get wider and bluer, and you will also get bluer. Snow (Dong Hao) The scenery in the northland of Mao Zedong is frozen for thousands of miles, and the snow in Wan Li is floating. Looking inside and outside the Great Wall, I only feel embarrassed; When the river rises and falls, it loses momentum. The mountains are like dancing silver snakes, and the highlands are like advancing wax elephants, all trying to match the sky in height. When the weather is fine, look at the sunny market. What a charming sight! This land is so beautiful that countless heroes bow to their knees. Cherish Qin Huang Hanwu, slightly lost literary talent; Tang Zong Song Zu, slightly less coquettish. Genghis Khan, the hero of the throne, only knows how to draw a bow and shoot arrows. These characters are gone, a few heroes who can make contributions, look at today's people.