Modern verses in praise of beautiful dance posture

1. About Beautiful Modern Poetry (Beautiful Modern Poetry Excerpts)

About Beautiful Modern Poetry (Beautiful Modern Poetry Excerpts) 1. Beautiful Modern Poetry Excerpts

Beautiful Modern Poetry 1

Waxed Plum Blossoms Scented

Moonlight Spreads All Over The Ground

I Lifted Up My Wineglass

Even If It's Just a Petal

It's Still Touching

A Trail Soaked in Moonlight

A Peek at the Phenomenon as if I Walked Last Night

A path drenched in moonlight

The look is as clear as last night

Small bridges and smoke

How many partings and reunions

I can't see the footsteps I once took

Snowflakes bounce back and forth between the treetops

Recalling something from the past

Joyful

Sadness

I'm not sure if it was a good idea to go back to the past, but I'm not sure if I'll go back to the past.

Sadness

All of it

A baptism of snow

Awakened the winter

The road home melted the peace

Waiting for a silver dress

Tenderized the sadness of the longing

Elegant. Modern Poetry 2

The blue sky

A few leaves are fluttering

The branches of the trees

And the stiff bodies

Sounding by the ear drums

It's the precursor of winter

Birds huddled in the branches

Watching for happiness

Wandering peacefully in their dreams

The birds are in a state of shock.

Slowly growing roots in the heart

Pick up the worn out clothes

I remember the last time I left in the fall

The winter in my hometown

Seems to be the same as it always is

Accompanied by the sadness and joy of the journey

Elegant modern poems3

And then through the hidden night

The dawn of the night

The dawn of the day

The dawn of the night

The dawn of the day

The dawn of the night

The dawn of the day

The dawn of the day

Dawn should return east

Like newborn nature

No masks

No greed

No qualitative change of an inch of skin

If thousands of years ago

There was no barter, if

The Chinese Tea Ceremony, permeated with the modern look

The snowy peaks where I converted

Pure white snowy mountain tops.


Pure white snowflakes dance, cleansing

Mountains and spirits


I and all the heartbeats that can walk upright and make tools

should be calmly naked

Elegant Modern Poetry 4

Yes, there is no doubt

that we are sick

Some reused stones in the pool of Hua Qing.

The mole of beauty hatched in the placenta

Whose heart's demon has been fractured

The fog can tell the difference

The wooden fish of Mawei slope

Penetrates the emptiness that passes through the eyes

The pear tree pales its brow

Whose grave is pecked beautifully

It is said that the red face is a scourge of the sea

When we stoop down to the scherzo of history

She is accidentally the most beautiful woman in the world.

She has accidentally perfumed the fragrance

As if this life is a journey of lies

In an avalanche

The whole crowd loses its color

She falls like a snowflake

And before our eyes

Rouge dances all over the city again

Who's trying to poke a tear embroidered in the neon garments

But we've already been

But we are already an inch of error imprisoned in the dye tank

Unable to protect the pain and itch of this water

Our once-white silhouettes

Are they buried in the tears of that year

Or are they waiting for the temperature of an avalanche of scenes

2. Beautiful modern poems

The following are my favorite modern poems, I hope they can cause you to **** song.

"Feelings" (Gu Cheng)

The sky is gray

The road is gray

The building is gray

The rain is gray

In a dead gray

Walked two children

One bright red

A light green

(The poem directly reflects the "poetic intuition")

The Alley (Gu Cheng)

The alley

is long and curved

has no door

no window

I took an old key

and knocked on the thick wall

(think of that particular era)< /p>

The Tomb

is a poem about a child who walks past two children

one bright red

one light green

(this poem directly reflects "poetic intuition")

The Alley (Gu Cheng)

"Grave Bed" by Gu Cheng

I know that eternity has come and gone, and I'm not sad

In the pines rests my wish

Below there's the sea, which looks like a pool from afar

A little bit of the afternoon sun follows me

The time of man is over, and the world of man is very long

In the midst of it all, I should rest

And the man who walks by says. The branches of the trees are low

Those who walk by say that the branches are growing

("Grave Bed" is Gu Cheng's masterpiece of the late period)

"It's Beijing at Eight Past Four" (Index Finger)

It's Beijing at eight past four,

A sea of hands turns over;

It's Beijing at eight past four,

A majestic whistle is sounding long.

The tall buildings of Peking Station,

suddenly shook violently.

I looked out of the window with astonished eyes,

not knowing what was happening.

There was a sudden pain in my heart, it must have been

the needle and thread of my mother's buttons penetrating my heart and chest.

At that moment, my heart turned into a kite,

and the string of the kite was in my mother's hand.

The string was so tight that it was about to rip off,

and I had to poke my head out of the window pane of the carriage.

Until then, until then,

I didn't realize what was happening.

- A wave of farewells,

just about to roll away from the station;

Beijing, at my feet,

had moved slowly.

Again I waved my arms toward Beijing,

wanting to grab him by the collar,

and then shouted at her:

Always remember me, O mother, Beijing!

Finally grabbed something,

No matter whose hand it is, can not let go,

because this is my Beijing,

this is my last Beijing.

(A masterpiece of Index Finger, please enjoy it, this poem has touched a certain emotion in me)

"Spring, Ten Seas" (Hai Zi)

In the spring, ten seas all come back to life

In the bright scenery

Laughing at this barbaric and sad seas

What is the reason for you to be asleep for such a long time? What is it that you have slept so long for?

In the spring, ten seas roar low

Dance and sing around you and me

Rip your black hair and ride off in a cloud of dust

The pain of your cleavage fills the earth

In the spring, savage and vengeful sea

This one is left, the last

This is the night's Sons, steeped in winter, devoted to death

Unable to stop themselves, in love with the empty, cold countryside

Where the grains are piled high and cover the windows

Half of them go to the mouths, the food and the stomachs of a family of six

Half of them are used for agriculture, they multiply themselves

And the great winds blow from east to west, from north to south, ignoring the night and dawn.

What exactly do you mean by dawn

(This poem was written posthumously by Hai Zi, who committed suicide by lying down on the railroad tracks the next day, Hai Zi ... Can't you really see the dawn in your black eyes)

"Diary" by Haizi

Sister, I'm in Delingha tonight, the night is dark

Sister, I'm in Delingha tonight, the night is dark

Sister, I'm in Delingha tonight, I'm in Delingha tonight, the night is dark

Sister, I'm in Delingha tonight,

This is a desolate city in the rain

This is a desolate city in the rain. A desolate city in the rain

Except for those who pass by and reside

Delingha ...... Tonight

This is the only, the last, lyric.

It's the only, the last, prairie.

I return the stone to the stone

Let the victory of the victory

Tonight the barley belongs only to himself

Everything grows

Tonight I have only the beautiful Gobi Empty

Sister, tonight I don't care about mankind, I only think of you

(masterpiece, I personally think this is the best poem of Hai Zi)

PS: my friend on the first floor posted my poem...

3. 20 beautiful modern poems

1. I'm just a playwright, forever shedding my own tears in other people's stories ---- Ximurong "Playwright" 2. In the dirge of the rain, her colors are faded, her fragrance dispersed, and even her breathless gaze, lilac despondency.

----- ----- Dai Wangshu "Rainy Lane" 3. Behind you fell a lot of friends, that's not flower petals, but my withered heart ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ------ ------ ------ ----- ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ I'm not a returnee, I'm just a passer-by ------ 6. The bud waits silently, the setting sun watches from afar, maybe there's a heavy ocean hidden, but it's just a couple of teardrops that come out ------ Shouting's "Thoughts" 7. All the endings have been written, all the tears have departed, but I've forgotten what kind of a beginning it was, in the old summer day that never comes back. 8. No matter how much I try to find out, the young you're only a cloud, a cloud, a cloud. No matter how hard I tried, the young you passed by like a cloud, and your smiling face was so shallow that it gradually disappeared in the sunset. 9. I turned the yellowed title page, which fate had bound so poorly, and with tears in my eyes, I read it again and again, but I had to admit that youth is a book that is too short. 10. That day was so far away, so far away that it spread its wings, and even if love is still, it is still, so still, the memory is still. ----- Andrew Wyeth, "Faraway Places" is not there anymore.

4. Find some beautiful modern poems

Topic to be decided

Under the blue sky, our dreams fly

A hundred easy is the dream of our childhood

The rainbow soars above a hundred easy

Our laughter cuts through the sky

Riding on the boat of our dreams

Swimming on the light waves of the English language. The light waves of the English language

One Hundred Yee, a web of joy

connecting friends from all over the world

A basket of flowers in our hands

full of happiness and childhood

One Hundred Yee doesn't have the fragrance of the flowers

nor the scent of the green leaves

but it does have the beauty of our laughter

And our childhood and our dreams.





































The Willow Flakes The wind is blowing on my face

I can't forget the colorful paper kites that I let fly

When I was enjoying the peach blossoms

Now I am sighing alone as the petals fall off and people are scattered

Why is it that

that chant in the sound of the silver piper

It always

touched you and broke my heart

I should not be looking forward to your return voyage

Since I am so heartless to see you go

I shouldn't look forward to your return journey

The sound of the ancient bells

Can you wake me up from my drunken dreams

The rush of the Ganjiang River

Can you remember me wandering alone

A heart frozen by the winter cold

A piece of sadness sprouting in the warmth of the spring

You've gone

It's freezing cold, and the thoughts of the world have all gone out of my head

I am I am looking forward to

Flowering flowers and green grass, and spring is in full bloom

Broken Chapter - Bian Zhilin

You are standing on a bridge looking at the scenery,

and those who are looking at the scenery are looking at you from upstairs.

The bright moon decorates your window,

you decorate other people's dreams.

After the rain

By Xi Murong

Life can be a poem

If you can let me walk slowly

quietly looking forward to searching for

With the deepening twilight

through the unknowable quagmire

in the dark clouds

finally shed a tear, and for the sake of the people, I will not let you go. All

Encounters missed or not missed

Life can be a poem in the end

After the pouring rain

My heart will be cleaner

If you're willing to wait

All the drifting clouds

In the end, they all finally merge into a river

Rainy Lane ----- Dai Wangshu

The Rainy Lane

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I wander alone in the long, long

and silent rainy lane,

I hope to meet

a lilac-like

girl with sadness.

She has the color of a lilac,

the fragrance of a lilac,

the sadness of a lilac,

moaning in the rain,

misery and helplessness;

she wanders in the rainy lanes,

with a paper umbrella,

just like me.

Missing in the rainy alleys,

like me. Like me,

5. Recommended a few very beautiful modern poems

Excerpted from Yan Ye's "Momentary Eternity", nameless, but I think it's very well written.

{Love You Forever}

The eye's reach, the heart's touch, all for love, for the heart's delight

The heart's delight, the love's madness, only because of you, like a dream to follow

The love's deep, the love's cut, only you're depending on, *** to the sky long

My life's limited, my love has no boundaries, I hope we are always lucky, love you forever

{You}

{You}

{You}

{You}

{You}

{You}

This is the first poem of the year.

What a happy day

Bathing the lonely heart

Letting the hook of the smiling moon hang gently

Shedding down sweet love

What beautiful words

Flapping their colorful wings

Letting the eyes gently ripple

Meeting the soft waves of this soul

What rare fortune

Is this? It's a rare fortune

That sadness is extinguished and happiness rises

Whether you believe it or not

I'm going to whisper in your ear:

It's you

{Only love is precious}

The depths of time are as deep as the flow of clear water

Life is as mysterious as the vastness of smoke and water waves

Beyond the Peach Orchard

there is a place in my dream.

There is the love of my dreams

Blooming like a flower

Burning like a fire

Holding your hand is like holding the love of a lifetime

Calling you by your name is like calling you the love of your life

I pray that the sea will last forever, and be filled with stars

I pray that the river will last forever, and be dotted with flowers

In the tide, the tide is rising, the tide is falling

I want to be with you, and I want to be with you.

I only wish to be with you

***Crossing the long river

In the sea of people

I only wish to hold my son's hand

***To go on the long road

Looking at the sky and the earth passing away

With the sun and the moon like water

Under the windy and snowy moon

Let me hold in my hand a lotus from the Tianshan Mountain.

I invite you to ride with me on the white horse of the years

Don't ask, don't tell

Watching the tide rise and fall

We're passing by

Don't be shocked, don't be happy

When all things are gone

Love is the only thing that's treasured in this world

6.

I gently left,

just as I gently came;

I gently waved my hand,

to bid farewell to the clouds in the western sky.

The golden willow by the river,

is the bride in the sunset,

and the colorful shadow in the waves,

is rippling in my heart.

The green floating heart on the soft mud,

oily under the water beckons;

in the soft waves of the Kang River,

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;

crumbled between the floating algae,

precipitating a rainbow-like dream.

The dream?

I'm going to take a long pole,

and go back to the greener grass,

and load a boat full of starlight,

and sing in the starlight splendor.

But I can't sing,

Silence is the psalm of parting;

And the summer insects are silent for me,

Silence is the Kangqiao tonight!

Silently I go,

Just as I come quietly;

I wave my sleeve,

without taking away a cloud.

7. Beautiful modern poetry

A kind of beauty, open in the winter rain

"Dreaming of love drunken remote memory, moist rain sound without tear drops. Flowers do not have a thousand days to become the past, counting the years falling down the Hua embankment."

--Title

A night to wake up, cold window four walls, push open the mist, and look at the long-lost you hide in the clouds secretly crying.

You, clear and cold winter rain, sad break my thoughts; long standing in front of the window, destined to extend my heart fuzzy old memory. Lovely encounter, sensational flotsam, containing the love of the rain sprinkled a land and a land; dozens of ripples such as a dream into the skirt of the beauty of the soft wind, soaked my emotions; meet your wordless mystery, water Pei wind dress show; only to deduce the entanglement of the love of holding hands; the past, are destined to be the continuation of the truth of you and me in this life. But now, everything has gone with the wind, leaving only the sad teardrops of the winter rain

You, clear and cold winter rain, faded from the world of pomp and splendor. The silence of the wind and frost does not mean that the ancient bell tower in the wordless narrative; drifting you have forgotten my gentle implicit; who to *** cut the candle in the west window of the poetry has been turned into a distant and beautiful memories of the past: the sadness of the falling leaves and flourishing flowers has been the true heart of the water infatuation is put into the far away; youthful astringency has been transformed into the charm of maturity, you and my love in the fireworks across the river has become a distant beauty, by me forever y buried in the Memory ......

You, clear and cold winter rain, hidden lover's poignant and sad memories. A thousand years of pursuit of the encounter, standing in the drizzle, attracted the flower umbrella soft cover; plain face without words of beauty such as fragrant lotus shallow release, trust the envy of the group of flowers; light smile with warm jade hand smoothed the coldness of my heart; charm of the pen and ink in the love of the rice paper pointing to open the true meaning of sincerity, tenderness, poignancy and goodness, ...... a thousand years of memory The beauty of love is commanded.

You, the clear and cold winter rain, is the heartbroken teardrops of the infatuation. Tree remnants of the faded beauty, such as a butterfly by your sudden, terrified of the beauty of the dream remnants of the ripples, such as broken dreams, point by point by the relentless wind forgotten in the corner of love memories. Sad you, sad me, is interpreting Liang Zhu sad past. Across the shore of your beautiful as the setting sun of the red dust, is desperately struggling to show your inner desperation of the gentle jade. Relentless wind and rain, sad tear drops, extolling a period of past intoxicating legendary experience.

You, the clear and cold winter rain, is a deep hidden deep love of all things in the world speechless memory. Alpine water affection; autumn leaves buried flowers thick meaning; falling flowers deep meaning; ...... a piece of constantly being revised rewritten sadness beautiful. Winter rain saw, winter rain heard, in order to this sincere dedication, obsessive waiting, she was moved to secretly cry. Yes, only winter rain understands the deep meaning. Ask the world who can understand? Ask the world's love for geometry? "Ask the world of love for what, straight teach people to live and die in the promise of ......"; dreaming to find you a thousand degrees, twilight look back, you are in the lights across the shore place ......

You, Qingqing Cold winter rain, wet my lost years; entangled my disappointed teardrops; sighed my helplessly frivolous; vicissitudes of my long-lost red face; look at my sleeping past ...... a section of fuzzy and clear remnants of memories, so that my eyes gushed out of the tender beads; I can not tell which is the winter rain, which is the teardrops. "Things are not what they used to be, want to talk about tears first", this thousand years of beauty, this thousand years of winter rain, I do not know how many people's thoughts drunk and entangled, wet and deep memories of how many people ......

I would like to become a teardrop of the winter rain, to soak the distant beauty of the ......

8. What are the beautiful modern poems

Once the oath, layers and layers, butterfly language, through time and space. Do not dare to have too much extravagance, as if rushing from Xishuangbanna, gathering and scattering struck all over the body, dense, from far and near, play in the two strings up and down, fell in the life and death long sleep in space and time.

A distant love.

A deep thunder. The sound of the piano, a moment I do not know what year it is today and yesterday, swimming between the lips and teeth, full of bitterness, like the woman of the wind and the world. The heavenly palace, chewing over and over again, lest it startle the butterflies of the low voice of love, blown down by gusts of gale, slowly flowing from the strings, drifting.

The sound of books.

Silently wandering in front of the window, will resentment, let the excitement still in the silence, roaming through the years.

A thin volume of love.

Butterfly - the beauty of a thousand years

Liangzhu

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