Modern poetry about friendship, there must be an author. 2 songs .

Friendship is like a breeze.

Terry Fanning.

Friendship is like a warm breeze, you can't hold it, you can't smell it, you can't taste it, you can't know when it's coming, but you can always feel it, and you can always be aware of its presence, it may come and go, but you know it will always come back.

You can't find it again in a familiar city.

Your breath can only meet in dreams.

Tears of encounter, who has listened to me.

You met me last night.

It's a lot of memories.

It's a lot of memories.

It's no match for a low grave.

Who put twenty years of rape flowers yellow.

Make your wall.

I put eighteen years of friendship in the sky.

Look to whom, grab a handful of loess and mourn.

That cup of bitter heart wine.

Friend! Knock on the coffin to come out and drink with me?

Cherry blossom Xie Bai I waved goodbye to my hometown again.

Your grave stretches out your hands and detains me.

Have a drink at the bosom bar!

Trains traveling far away do not stop for anyone.

I can only look at and remember your scenery one more time.

Buried in my heart touches my heart.

The train went longitudinally, where we met.

In this familiar city.

I miss you at night.

But I can't smell the slightest breath of you.

The only thing I know is your train.

They have sailed to heaven.

So, are you also wandering at the mouth of heaven?

He wanted to wave goodbye to me.

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1. Five-dollar friendship.

Some people say: Vanity Fair is the first sacrifice is feelings, it seems that vulgar emotions should be betrayed, suddenly recalling the night breeze in the past, the huge ice wheel is clear and present: full afternoon, the moon is in the sky, the aftertaste of childhood, the friendship of five yuan, it has lasted for two years, and it is less than a penny a day, sure enough, the feelings are measured by money, superficial, the night is not young, relieved, why bother with this, after all, there is its value, I used this in exchange, a small poem, and a little pale text, woke up the earth, desolate the country.

2. Modern poetry, also known as vernacular poetry, can be traced back to the end of the Qing Dynasty at the earliest, and is a kind of poetry.

1, "Far and Near" (Gu Cheng).

You, a scum hole will look at me, and a moment will look at the clouds.

I feel that when you look at me, you are far away, and when you look at the clouds, you are close.

2, "Accidental" (Xu Zhimo).

I am a cloud in the sky, projected by chance in the heart of your waves.

You don't need to be surprised, let alone rejoice, to be wiped out in an instant.

You and I meet on the sea in the night, you have yours, I have buried me, direction;

It's better for you to remember, it's better for you to forget, the lights that shine on each other at this rendezvous!

3, "Mistake" (Zheng Chouyu).

I hit Jiangnan and walked through.

The face in the season is like the blossoming of a lotus flower.

The east wind does not come. The catkins in March do not fly.

Your heart is like a little lonely city.

Just like the bluestone street is late.

The trampling sound is silent. The spring of March is not revealed.

Your heart is a little window closed.

My Dada's hooves are beautiful mistakes.

I am not a returner, but a passerby.

4, "Alley" (Gu Cheng).

Alley. It's curved and long.

There are no doors. There are no windows.

I'll take an old key.

Knocking on a thick wall.

5, "Weight" (Han Han).

She put the bloody head on the scales of life, so that all the survivors lost their weight. 6, "Arc" (Gu Cheng).

Birds in the wind.

Turn quickly. The boy went to pick it up.

One cent. Grapevines due to fantasy.

And the extended filaments.

The waves retreated.

And the towering back.

7, "Far Away" (Sanmao).

How far away is it?

Please, please tell me, to the ends of the earth, is it far?

Ask your heart, as long as it promises, there is no place, it will not be so far.

8, "Homesickness" (Yu Guangzhong).

Hours. Nostalgia is a small stamp.

I'm on this end. Mother is over there.

When I grow up. Nostalgia is a narrow ticket.

I'm on this end. The bride is on that end.

Later, heh. Homesickness is a low grave like liquid.

I'm out there. Mother is inside.

And now. Nostalgia is a shallow strait.

I'm on this end. The continent is on that end.

9, "Choice" (Xi Murong).

If I come to the world.

Just to be with you once.

Just for that moment in billions of light years.

In a flash, all the sweetness and sadness there.

Then let everything happen.

It's all in an instant.

I bow down and thank all the planets for their help.

Let me meet you.

Farewell to you. Completed a poem made by God.

And then slowly age.