Poems about Railway Stations 1. What are the poems describing "Railway"
1. The Railway by He Shu The Railway is stretching, the men say that the other side of the mountain is very wonderful, but they don't tell their women that the other side of the mountain is very hard, and that in the world beyond the mountain, the men are sweating and shedding tears. For the sake of the railroad, the men shed sweat and tears, leaving their wives and children behind, only to look silently at the flickering candlelight late at night, and the women are silently worried. For the sake of the railroad, the children are drawing their fathers' portraits, and their mothers say that everything looks like them, except that their eyes don't look like their fathers'. At first, because of his youthfulness, he and Iron had a long confrontation with each other, but Iron was always silent with sharp edges, and occasionally he would bite his fingers when he was anxious, and occasionally he would roar his ears when he was angry. Later, because of the constant bonding, he and Iron had a longer period of mutual admiration, and I don't know if it was he who had changed Iron or Iron who had changed him, but after that, he accepted Iron's silence, and he also learned Iron's thickness, and after that, Iron accepted his thoughts, and he also read his hopes, so that he could write his life's strongest ink in the most vivid way. He used the strongest ink in his life to create his dream on a flat iron plate and scratched away the years with a real iron pen which wore out one after another and the best time on his head When he retired, he rode on a train for the first time, closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the wheels of the train and the rails of the train, which were squeezed by the iron, and softly chanted the poems he had written, which were even stronger than the years. When I stay in Chengdu for a long time, I can't help but feel homesick, standing on Renmin Nanlu Road, feeling that my hometown is very far away. If I run to the North Railway Station, looking at the winding railroad, I can imagine a small station called Xide tied to the railroad on the far side of the line, and that's how my hometown is so close to me. When I stay in Shanghai for a long time, I get homesick, standing by the banks of the Huangpu River, feeling that my hometown is so far away, if I run to the Shanghai Railway Station, looking at the long railroad, I can imagine that the other end of the railroad, tied to the other end of the line, is called the Xide. If I go to the Shanghai Railway Station and look at the long railroad, I can imagine a station called Chengdu on the other side of the railroad, then my hometown is once again so close to me. 4. Three Railway Poems by Liu Linqi The Winding Yingxia Line, a cannonball of an idea, flew from the other side of the sea, but didn't land. ...... The arc of the trajectory was extracted from the heaviness of the warhead, and in the sky in 1956, it stretched out and fluttered for a few months, and then it landed on the earth, and some of them hung on the ground. Some hung in the valleys, turning corners, some along the cliffs, turning peaks and peaks, and people gave it a nice name-- the Eagle-Hill Line. -So far we have traveled on this road as if we were in a war bunker - careful to squeeze through the barriers that block our view, and from a hundred meters away, we must look ...... Daho Mountain Thoughts Along the most remote station in the railroad textbooks, I saw Daho Mountain Station. I saw Dahosan Station, the strange scenery, and imagined that there had been a volcanic eruption, and the surrounding peaks were like the lava of years, solidifying a small station of a hundred meters into a perpetual masterpiece, most of all because of the natural color of the mountain peaks, which do not let go of their verdant green, and the small station became a wild lily of apricot yellow, just like a young girl's quiet youthful atmosphere, tender as a fairy tale, and beautiful as a kind of meditation. ...... Suddenly, thunder rolls through the tunnel, and the roar drifts into a stream of dyed clouds, and the signaling flag waves a line of masculine poetry that sweeps over the small station and is instantly collected by another cave....... Time has turned Dahuo Mountain Station into a kind of nostalgia for the past, into a poem drenched in pure love, making my memories of the secluded place bright and brilliant! The train is diverted and leaves behind a silence of sadness Beyond the rushing, a section of the road has become fossilized and covered with dust The sleepers are like animal skeletons on display in the mountainous south Weathered into some kind of textual narration What about the whistles that wipe the sky What about the wheels that shake the earth What about the concerto that used to be ancient and magnificent What about the murmurings of the rocks and chirping of the sunbirds All of them are like the dreaming of rocks and chirping of sunbirds Quiet in the annals of deposition and the poetry of poets Train is diverted and unloads a section of the railway Glorious railroads live for speed, for the faster pace of time, and leave space for the moon and the sight of grass, and the eternity of time in the love of a couple ...... The train is diverted, clanking away, holding the wind, singing wildly, just to catch up with time.
5, "written to the railroad song" Author: Liu Qingxiang worry by the car to take away the loneliness by the locomotive roar crushed railroad people in different stations to meet the east to the west travelers to see off the south to the north of the passers-by railroad people with sincerity and careful maintenance of the railroad in the long silver line Lyrics of a song of harmony railroad people with the sweat of the constructed a one by one a beautiful landscape he (she) with the eyes and smiles shape the image of the railroad people, the image of the heart, the heart, the heart, the heart, the heart, the heart. The image of the railroader, the intoxicating portrayal of the railroad, the weaving of love in the echo of the railroader's whistle, the beautiful arc of our travel life, the melody of steel, a song that will never tire of being sung, the rainbow of steel reflecting the ideals, the natural rhythm of the railroader, the power of the railroader's life, the conviction of the steel, the passion of the train, the desire to traverse the line, the extension of the railroad, the promotion of friendship, the long line of love, the long line of love, the long line of love, the long line of love, the long line of love. The railway is a beautiful talk to promote friendship, and a long line of love, love you is an unchanging promise forever, this is the railroad people love you a lifetime of wish.
2. Poetry describing the train
The train of life (poetry)
Not long ago, I read a book
The book compares life to a trip
Life is like a hitchhiking trip
To go through countless times on the train, off the train
Often there are accidents
Sometimes there are surprises. Sometimes it's a surprise
And sometimes it's a bitter sadness ......
When we're born
We get on the train of life
And we think
The first two people we're gonna meet-- our parents
Are gonna be our parents. -Our parents
will be with us for the rest of our lives
Unfortunately, that's not the case
They'll get off the train at a certain station
and leave us
alone
with their love
their love
their irreplaceable companionship
and their love for us
. their irreplaceable companionship
No longer to be found ......
Nevertheless, there will be others who will get on the bus
Some of them will have a special meaning for us ......
Among them will be our Brothers and sisters
Our friends and family
We will experience a love story that has been immortalized for ages
Among the people who will be on the same train
Some will be traveling with ease
Some will be traveling with deep sadness
Others will be running around on the train
And there will be those who will be on the train
With their own hearts and souls, they will be on the train. p>
Running around
Always ready to help those in need ......
Many get off the train and are remembered by other travelers for years to come ......
But then there are those who
When They leave their seats and no one notices
There are times
when a companion
who has meant so much to you
sits in another compartment
and you just have to get away from him
and continue your journey
Of course you can wobble
through your compartment to find him in another compartment during the journey ......
Unfortunately, you won't be able to sit next to him anymore
Because the seat has been taken by someone else. ......
That's okay
The journey is full of challenges, dreams, hopes, and partings. ......
There's just no turning back
So try to make your journey as pleasant as possible
Be kind to all the travelers you meet on your journey
Find out what makes people tick
And always remember: at some point on the journey
some people are hesitant to go back.
Because we hesitate ourselves
We need to understand others
Because we need to be understood
The mystery of life is this:
Where do we get off
Where does our companion get off
Where do our friends
Get off
We don't know where they get off. >
We have no way of knowing ......
I often wonder:
Will I stay when it's time for me to get off
?
I think I will
It will be painful to be separated from my friends
It will be sad to leave my children alone
I cling to the hope
that at the end of the line, where we all need to get to
we'll be together again
My children got on the train with little luggage
If I could just get off the train and get back to my friends
I would have to get off the train and get back to my friends
If I could just get off the train and get back to my friends, I would have to get off the train.
If I can leave good memories in their bags
I'll be happy
I'll be happy if my traveling companions who travel with me when I get off the train
remember me
miss me
I'll be happy
Dedicated to you
My traveling companions on the train of my life
I wish you a good journey, and I hope you'll be happy when you get off the train. I could feel your tears too
You were just holding them back
You didn't want people to see you in your uniform shedding tears
When I was on the bus, I looked back at you
You were still in the same place looking at me
In the bus, I cried bitterly and ran out of the bus frantically with my baggage
I held you tightly, I couldn't leave you
In that parting moment, I was so happy to leave you, but I was so happy to see you. The train station was crowded. This country with a population of 1.3 billion, the most spectacular annual migration of people is the annual Spring Festival. As a perennial wanderer, often walking in the train station, accustomed to seeing a variety of separate scenes, perhaps for the sadness and feelings of separation has been numb, but the latest separation, so that my heart can not be calm for a long time.
2, the day the family came to the train station, the crowd gradually stretched out, with people forward, we also began to enter the fantasy journey. The train station is far away in the train's traveling, and the residual sound echoes in every corner of the memory.
3, just in time for the late night, the cold wind outside the train station, but surrounded by a lot of cab drivers pulling passengers, this time, on the cab is just like a piece of fat meat on the board waiting for the chef to come. I looked at my watch, there are nearly five hours from dawn, so they came to the waiting room of the train station, ready to wait until dawn to take the bus home.
4. The train station square was full of passengers who could not return to their long-awaited hometown because of the weather disaster. These unfortunate passengers are cold and hungry, camping in the train station square, homesickness can not be disconnected for a long time, during the day they look at the floating clouds all day long, thinking about the traveler for a long time not to arrive.
5, you may have been to the Nanjing South Railway Station, where is currently Asia's largest train station, dozens of railroad tracks arranged in front of the platform, railroad cars, high-speed railroad, busy transporting passengers out of the city. But you may not know that in Pukou, Nanjing, there is also a once bustling train station, which is Pukou Railway Station.
6, the station building stands tall, the fa?ade is divided into the center and two wings of three parts. The top of the center is a novel large flat shell roof, the roof on both sides of the symmetry of the two stands with a deep national style of the clock tower. The roof of the bell tower is covered with golden glazed tiles, showing the novel architectural art of skillfully combining the new structure and the national traditional style.
7, the train suddenly stopped, gasping for breath, a hustle and bustle of selling snacks, it then boiled up. Soy sauce black tea eggs, bright red marinated pig's trotters, charred bread, white hot buns, continue to constantly now outside the window, dispersing the appetizing aroma.
8, off the train, only to see the station a group of helmets, poorly dressed motorcycle man surged over, they followed closely at the side of the travelers, all enthusiastic, arm hanging a simple plastic helmet, and kept asking: "Miss, where to go? Taking the bus?" Although this time is broad daylight, but I still feel very unsafe to ride a motorcycle, afraid of being brutally pestered by them, I do not dare to look at them, just keep your head down and walk, walk for a while, following the people have been only a few, and suddenly a middle-aged man once again asked me: "Miss, where to go?"
9, simple waiting room, or standing or sitting in a lot of people waiting for the car, I carefully observed, there are clinging couples, age, but that love is so beautiful, there is a man in a hurry to return home, there are, full of tired face of the people. I stood quietly, with a hint of delight, a hint of despondency. Time 62616964757a686964616fe78988e69d8331333363396334 between is also a train, sitting on it, the face day by day become older, the heart is no longer as pure as water, the landscape has changed, people have changed. That winter night, sitting on the train, outside the window is fluttering snowflakes, those past events, and the train on the road together, once every person, every thing, so from the brain all the way to lay the track.
10, my young body was squeezed in the crowd, making it difficult for me to breathe. I stopped crying and shouting because it was useless, so I pushed forward with all my might, following the crowd in the direction of the train doors. However, there were too many people, and my strength was too small, so there were no gaps to be found, and it was difficult to move. Squeezing and squeezing, surprise, stretching out my foot, almost stepped on the train door, but my foot was squeezed out by the people who came after me. Just heard the train whistle, soon to depart. I look at the momentum is not right, in a hurry, hurry to hold on to a person's legs, with him roaring squeeze, it is not easy to get on the train.
11, when all over the train station and bus station is a tide of people, only the annual Spring Festival is the most crowded, the weather is the coldest time and even late at night in a long line to buy train tickets, buy a ticket but also in the crowd of crowded train, catch the car, and even more can not buy a ticket to sit in a narrow train compartment can only be broken in a foot of the ground, from the station to the end of the terminal station and do not dare to sleep at any time to mention the release of the people crowded! The people in the carriages of the thief.
12, loaded with ore train, rumbling through the caves, circling between the mountains. The front end of the smoke, roaring, leading the way forward. The aspen trees on both sides of the railroad swept back, the distant mountains, shrouded in a faint white fog. Gradually the train speed up, the wind like speeding forward.
13, my eyes fell two drops of crystal clear tears, I can not tell which drop is the cold wind blowing down; which drop is rue urged down, it is estimated that the two drops are she urged down it! Through the tears, I seemed to see her figure. "No, this is an illusion," I thought to myself. Two dry tears, turned around and left the platform ......
14, that year, fifteen-year-old me, sitting alone on the train, confused inside, I do not know where to go, how to walk the road in the future, I miss my mother, miss my friends, but I feel that I can no longer go back to the most helpless when I encountered a big brother, maybe I have too obvious sadness and helplessness in my eyes, the train line all the way, I was enlightened all the way, when the train reached the end of the train, my heart at once relaxed a lot, those sadness so helpless by the train was unloaded to a stop one after another small station.
15, into the hall of the train station, the hall has six light red marble columns, there are three or four floors so high, to four people to hold over. Into the waiting room, the waiting room is crowded, there are standing, there are sitting.
5. Seek a poem about the train
The Apple on the Train I do not know who mentioned the word apple, the train has been moving in the direction of Zhangjiajie, sitting in front of me in Changsha, a school, two students, they look like a couple, the male student, home of Zhejiang, an island, this year, 19 years old, if an apple is in front of us, the male student said, "He will take it over to eat it, this is a pragmatic approach, the female student said, she said, she is not the only thing that can be done. the girl says she closes her eyes and the apple is gone i say it depends on where the apple is and whether it's in someone else's hand the train the pony by the pony river rides mulan to work and crosses a railroad junction before the train comes the railing is already in the way and some people get through it the pony counts from 1 to 200 before the train whistles and leaves the train the subway is between these two stations now the train is in a car and the train is in a car and it's in a car Between these two stations, the train is not very crowded, just enough to fill the seats, and Ma is standing there, she's going home from work, if she's going to work, she'll leave her 50 motorcycles at a school, and get on the train from the Outer Ring Road station, and then the Lotus Road station. By the platform, there were eight tracks, four with trains, five with wagons, three empty, which track would her train stop on, I lit one, threw it away, lit another, and the train hadn't arrived yet The Third Baldhead In Changsha, bald is bald, and Zhang Ruoxi says I'm bald. The next morning, it was raining, and I arrived at Changsha station, where a group of people stood outside the exit, strangers to me, strangers to Zhang Ruoxi. At 8:38 a.m., a bald man came out, 60 years old, I didn't call out, another bald man came out, much younger, carrying a red and white woven bag, a third bald man came out, wearing dark glasses, I thought it was Zhang Ruoxi, if it wasn't Zhang Ruoxi, then I wouldn't wait for him, and the third bald man stood there, and I called out, "Zhang Ruoxi, this is Zhang Ruoxi," and he said, "This is Distance." My sister's cell phone hadn't been turned on, I'd come home, I wanted to check on her, and she didn't answer her cell phone, she should know that. She should know, but she just won't return her calls, and some people are looking for her to play mah-jong, what's she doing in that place called Baixi? I sat in the car on the way back to Changsha, and I even called her phone once, "The number you have dialed is turned off", I couldn't imagine my sister's life, with her old oil-paper umbrella, and a quiet snowfall, and the two of them walking along the Xiangjiang River, your fictional scenario, repeated over and over again, and then it's spring, and there's a butterfly, and that's the one that's in the field, and the one that's in the field, and the one that's in the field. The appearance of a butterfly was the highlight of the afternoon, the blurred face of a woman gradually becoming clearer, a train whistle blowing in the heavy rain, its wheels slowly turning, your steps slowing down to a quicker pace. The train, whirring and whirring, moving from station to station, the darkness of the grass, the whiteness of something shining under the light, the faraway train, bringing with it a childhood, a warm loaf of bread from your father's hand, your father in the train, Shanghai, Beijing, the names of these distant places, whirring and whirring, close to you. The names of places, whimpering, close, beside him, the woman in the grass, whimpering, crying, Untitled, next, the train enters the tunnel, the book in Zhang's hand, the words turn black, the station ahead, Lengshuijiang, Zhang yawns, the train, I'm not the one standing on your left, you can't see me, because of the rain, so violent, you happen to come to the window, and the tree, still standing like that, a train passes by, in a faraway place, its breath coming in fast, and the train, the train, is not a train, but a train. Blank, he was sitting on a speeding train, and from time to time, trees and houses passed by the window, and in his mind, a series of shattered images of classical houses, sultry women, and behind the curtains, a strong hand reaching out to shoot a gun, open a beer starter, a silver penguin from Hulunbeier, a small ashtray full of cigarette butts, and Silent had bought five of them. That night, Silent went to the Northeast alone, and there were three other people waiting for a train to Beijing, and the grassland was behind us, and the sky was endless, and it was raining, and the rain was falling. It was raining, and Xiaoxian, while Luoqi was sitting by the Pearl River, drinking, the Changsha-Zhangjiajie train arrived in Xiangxiang, and it was raining, and I suddenly thought, "When are we going to visit Zeng Guofan's house?" The train continued, and the snotty nose, which clogged up once every five minutes, the slightest coughing spells, and the intermittent headaches, and the blackness of the eyes from reading two or three lines of text, were the symptoms that confirmed that the cold was indeed here, and the train, which was soaking in the rain, continued to move, as far as it could, and that the train had passed through the Donghu Ting, and the Dongteng Ting, which is the most beautiful place in China. The train crosses the Dongting Lake and keeps going north, it doesn't change direction, it crosses the second bridge over the Xiangjiang River, and you turn around. The man with the beard and the armpits is standing outside the window, the train hasn't even started yet, and the man, with his finger dipped in saliva, writes on the window, stroke by stroke, words that are curved like earthworms, which are in the Mongolian language, said Li Yawei, the sunlight shines on the tears in the women's eyes across the street from me.