Ask for a modern poem What other modern poems can there be?

Farewell Kangqiao (Xu Zhimo).

Gently I go, as softly I came;

I beckoned softly, and made a cloud of the western sky.

The golden willow on the riverside.

It is the bride in the sunset.

The beautiful shadow in the waves ripples in my heart.

The green wattles on the soft mud are swaggering at the bottom of the water;

In the soft waves of the River Cam, I am willing to be a water weed.

The pool under the shade of the tree is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky.

Crumpled among the floating algae, precipitating a rainbow-like dream.

Looking for a dream? Hold a penny, wander towards the greener grass, load a boatload of starlight, and sing in the starlight.

But I can't play songs, quietly it's a parting sheng flute;

Xia Worm is also silent for me, silence is Kangqiao tonight!

Quietly I went, as quietly I came;

I waved my sleeves and didn't take a cloud with me.

Paper Boat Fold a paper boat, carrying your vision;

Falling softly to sleep, ripples in my heart.

The ideal sea will inevitably have wind and waves, don't be afraid! Let's paper boats.

Holding youth, carrying hope, embarking on the journey and moving forward.

Ahead, sublimate your dreams.

I don't know if I can do it.

Snowflakes Snowflakes.

It was the little angel pulling the pillow.

Shake off the goose feathers.

It was scattered all over the ground.

Snowflake is Mother Sky.

Cotton wool rented to the earth.

So that it can be made into a warm quilt.

Snowflake is Santa Claus.

A gift for us.

I wish every child health and happiness.

Love Life" Wang Guozhen.

I don't think I'll be able to make it.

Since you have chosen the distance.

Just take care of the wind and rain.

I don't think about whether I can win love.

Since I love roses.

and be brave enough to confide in sincerity.

I don't think about whether there will be cold wind and rain behind me.

Since the goal is horizon.

All that is left to the world is the back.

I don't think about whether the future will be flat or muddy.

Just love life.

Everything is expected in "Tianwen".

The glow of the water.

One after another, why did it disappear into the twilight?

The lights on the ground.

One after another, why is it all in the night?

The stars in the sky.

One after the other, why.

It's all gone?

Oh our lives.

Day after day, why.

All for eternity?

And when I'm gone, huh.

Pick me up, exactly.

What kind of sky is it?

Is it twilight?

Is it night?

Is it the dawn?

Nostalgia. Hyundai · In the afterglow.

When I was a child, nostalgia was a small stamp, I was at one end and my mother was at that end.

When I grew up, nostalgia was a narrow ticket, I was at this end, and the bride was at that end.

Later, nostalgia was a low grave, I was outside, and my mother was inside.

And now, nostalgia is a shallow strait, I am at this end, and the mainland is at that end.

Youth is a dream.

But there will be a day when I wake up from a dream.

Youth is a small river.

But there will be a day when it dries up.

Youth is a rainbow.

But one day it will disappear.

Youth is a blooming flower.

But there will be a day when it will wither.

Youth is the fine sand in the hand.

Before you know it, it's gone.

Youth is a shooting star in the sky.

Although it is beautiful, it is gone in an instant.

Youth is the fragrance left by happiness.

Wanting to cherish it is gone.

Youth is a flower.

Swaying slowly in the breeze.

That tall and beautiful body.

It's always fragrant.

You can't help but reach out and caress it.

Kiss it. Youth is a song.

Gently wafting in the intoxicating air.

The crisp notes.

Quietly converge into a beautiful melody.

You can't help but listen to it.

Praise it. Youth is a glass of wine.

Float slowly in the jade light cup.

That sweet and fragrant taste.

It has been rippling with a sweet smell for a long time.

It's always tempting to raise a glass to it. Drink it.

What is youth?

It's a memory left on the swing.

It is a trail of footprints left on the snow.

It's a line of tears left on the old **.

It's the red cotton jacket that I wore in my memory.

That's what youth looks like.

Slowly turn what I did a long time ago into a memory.

Then. It's a happy smile on the corner of the lips.

Qili Xiang Xi Murong.

The stream is in a hurry to flow to the ocean.

The tide is eager to return to the land.

In front of the hedge of green trees and white flowers.

He waved goodbye so easily.

And twenty years after the vicissitudes of life.

But our spirits return night after night.

The breeze blows by.

Then it turned into a garden full of tulips.

Analysis: This is a delicate and touching beautiful little poem, full of sincere and ardent love. When we walk through a colorful flower, a pleasant path, or pass a solitary flower, a remnant of green, do we think that there are some reckless creatures around us who are watching over us, blessing us, loving us deeply, beautiful and happy because of our existence?

Love is a kind of pain, but also a kind of happiness; Sadness is a kind of happiness and a kind of pain. Is there really a reincarnation of creation that accomplishes the continuation and transmission of emotions? Or is the beauty around us revealing a message of love?

When we are children, we want to be a blossoming tree, hoping to mature. However, time ignores desire. Growth and transformation is the inevitable process of flowers blooming and falling, and the beauty of time lies in its inevitable passing.

The flowers blooming under the sun are thick and heavy, and the desolation of flowers falling in one place is abrupt and sad. Could it really take 10,000 years to cultivate the human form, and another 10,000 years to cultivate the seven emotions and six desires, before you can stand in front of your loved ones and shed the first tears.

Maybe it was destined to be wrong in the first place, but I don't want to believe that our fate is only a coincidence. Five hundred years of waiting has been exchanged for the moment of meeting, and if I wait another five hundred years or more, will you see how my tree-filled expectations fall for you?

Walking through, stepping on the flowers layer by layer. That's when I realized: Encounters are not beautiful, encounters are wrong.

In ordinary days, blessed are those who can take the truth and love seriously!

This poem allows us to see a lonely heart, full of anticipation of love but seemingly unknown. Her (his) emotions are sincere and fervent, and there is no lack of persistence in her mourning. To be a manifestation of love requires perseverance.

Wind if I were a gust of wind.

I'll give you fallen leaves.

Let you collect the magic of the four seasons.

Discover the mysteries of the four seasons.

If I were a gust of wind.

I will bring you the fragrance of all things.

Let you taste the charming aroma of flowers and trees.

Feel the power of nature.

If I were a gust of wind.

When you are in the heat of summer.

I will give you the freshest wind.

Blow away worries. Take away the heat.

This is one of my favorite modern poems, more than a truckload of pseudo-poems.

Believe in the Future" Index Finger].

When the cobwebs mercilessly seized my hearth.

When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty.

I still stubbornly lay out the ashes of disappointment.

Write with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future.

When my purple grapes turn to late autumn dew.

When my flowers snuggle up to someone else's feelings.

I still stubbornly use the withered vines of frost.

Write on the bleak earth: Believe in the future.

I'm going to use my fingers on the waves that rush to the horizon.

I will hold the sea of the sun with the palm of my hand.

Swaying the warm and beautiful pen of the dawn.

Write in a child's pen: Believe in the future.

The reason why I firmly believe in the future.

It is the eyes of people who believe in the future.

She has eyelashes that sweep away the dust of history.

She has the pupils to see through the pages of time.

Regardless of people's perception of our rotten flesh.

The melancholy of being lost, the pain of failure.

It is a tearful feeling of emotion and deep sympathy.

Or give a contemptuous smile and a spicy mockery.

I'm a firm believer in people's trust for our backbone.

Those countless explorations, lost, failures, and successes.

We will definitely give an enthusiastic, objective and fair evaluation.

Yes, I anxiously await their assessment.

Friends, believe firmly in the future.

Believe in indomitable efforts.

Believe in the youth that triumphs over death.

Believe in the future and love life.

1968 Beijing.

Spring water, farewell to Kangqiao, Dayan River, my mother.