Famous poems about the starry sky, modern poems about the starry sky

Heavenly Market.

Guo Moruo. In the distance, the street lights were bright, and it seemed to be shining with countless stars.

The stars in the sky appeared, as if they were lit by countless street lamps.

I think there must be a beautiful market in the misty sky.

Some of the items on display in the market are certainly rare things that are not found in the world.

You see, the shallow river of heaven is certainly not very wide.

I think the cowgirl across the river will be able to ride the cow to and fro.

I think they're strolling around the streets of heaven right now.

If you don't believe me, look at the shooting star.

Even if they were walking with lanterns.

Under the stars. Cold smoke.

You can't help but look up.

It seems to be from the vast dictionary of the starry sky.

Find your own source.

A star suddenly brightened as a nail.

Nail you there vertically.

It was named and lit up.

In the darkest moments.

And so he was driven into the endless wilderness.

Like a beggar, with the palm of a spit spurned.

Pick up the bits of breadcrumbs scattered by the starlight.

Every ray of starlight cast into the bottom of my heart.

will grow into a chime stone as scheduled.

How you have looked.

and so shall they prostrate.

Hargai looked up at the starry sky.

Look up at the stars in Hargai.

Northwest. There's a mystery you can't navigate.

You can only play the role of a bystander.

Listen to the mysterious power of the screen.

Signals from afar.

out and penetrate your heart.

Like tonight, in Hargai.

In this desolate place away from the city.

The place is next to a train station the size of a broad bean on the Tibetan Plateau.

I looked up at the stars.

At this time, the river was silent, and the bird's wings were thin.

The grass grows wildly towards the stars.

The herd forgot to fly.

The wind blows on me in the empty night.

The wind blows the future and the past.

I became somebody, somewhere.

A burrow with an oil lamp.

And the cold roof of this burrow.

Altar trampled by the billions of feet of the stars.

I am like a child receiving communion.

Amplified the guts, but held your breath.

These two poets are not famous writers, but they are well written. Star.

Lermontov. Yu Qiyu.

A lone star, high in the sky.

Hold my heart, leisurely;

evoke yearning; noble and pure;

The voice is calling, elegant as snow!

Blame my eyes, gentle and considerate, fascinating, and sincere;

It's a pity that I have not been glimpsed.

Such stars are too high to reach;

Look through the eyes, although tired.

The face is unkissable, and the sky is too resting!

1830 1831 year.

This poem Lermontov is inscribed in the memorial book of A.M. Vershakina. Vershakina was the four-year-old cousin of the older poet. The poet had a deep friendship with her. She had a very good influence on the development of poets' talents.

Nocturne

The night sky is dotted with stars, shining with a warm light.

It's like the smile of the moon, a small light, but enough to illuminate loneliness.

Look up at the stars.

The evening smoke has already dissipated with the wind.

I walked in front of the court—I looked up at the stars, the stars that hid behind the moon halo, I had not noticed before.

At this time, I fantasized about dreams and eternity, how I longed for time to go back, and I had a lot of thoughts.

Such a multiplicity, such beauty, such a high altitude...

Such a self and a reverie -- such a prostration, such a belief, such a disgrace.

I have always loved the moonlight, and I am fascinated by the starry night, and my selfish sentimentality makes me happy, until I find that there is no one around me - only the starlight, and I am surprisingly no longer lonely, no longer desolate.

Mature and majestic thoughts, stepping out of time and space and eternal life, why not use them to measure my life?

I perceive every detail, I wander among all beings, and I no longer ignore them, just as I no longer ignore my own destiny.

Perhaps I am now in awe of life, those who share with me in this age, or ......who will be born in the future

I finally understood that fragile life will not be in front of me, no matter day or night, I can only explore, struggle, and chase ...... before I understand the meaning of death

Just for this admiration!

"Send You a Piece of Sky".

Send you a piece of the sky, in the south, in the place where the ancient banyan tree grows legendary, this note is pure blue, just a rainbow in a dream.