Ask for a prose or poem 10

"Snake" Feng Zhi My loneliness is a snake, silently without words. If you dream of it, don't be afraid! It's my faithful companion It's a warm homesickness in my heart It thinks of the lush meadow The rich black thread on your head It walks gently past you like a moonshade It brings your dreams like a crimson flower.

Paper Boat Ice Heart I never want to give up a piece of paper, I always keep it - keep it Folded into a very small boat, Thrown off the boat and in the sea. Some were blown into the windows of the boat by the wind, and some were wet by the waves and stuck to the bow of the boat. I still don't lose heart, stacking it every day, always hoping that one can flow to where I want it to go.

Mother, if you see a very small white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it falls asleep for no reason. This is your beloved daughter's tears, thousands of rivers and mountains, begging it to carry her love and sorrow back.

Rain Lane Dai Wangshu.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

It's long, long.

And lonely rain alley, I hope to meet.

A clove-like.

A girl with a grudge.

She has the color of cloves, the fragrance of lilacs, the sorrow of lilacs, and she complains in the rain, complains and hesitates;

She wandered in this lonely rainy alley, holding an oil-paper umbrella like me, silently like mechù) is cold, desolate, and melancholy.

She silently approached, approached, and threw again.

Tai Xi general vision.

She floated like a dream, like a dream.

It's like floating in a dream.

A lilac, this girl floated beside me;

She silently walked away, far away, to the fence wall of decadence (pǐ), and walked through this rainy alley.

In the lamentation of the rain, her color was dissipated, her fragrance was scattered, and even hers was dissipated.

The eyes of the breath.

Lilac-like melancholy.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

It's long, long.

Another lonely rainy alley, I hope to float through.

A clove-like.

A girl with a grudge.

Paper boats.

Rabindranath Tagore: Every day, I put paper boats one by one in the rapids of the stream.

I wrote my name and the name of the village where I lived in big black letters on a paper boat.

I hope that people who live in other places will get this paper boat and know who I am.

I carried the long showflowers in the garden on my boat, hoping that the dawn flowers would be brought to shore peacefully at night.

I threw my paper boat into the water, looked up at the sky, and saw small clouds with white sails full of wind.

I don't know what of my companions in heaven have lowered these boats to race with my boats!

When night came, my face buried in my arms, and I dreamed that my paper boat was slowly floating in the starlight of the night.

The sleeping fairy sits in a boat with a basket full of dreams.

How to make you meet me.

In my most beautiful moments.

I have been praying for this before the Buddha for 500 years.

Pray to the Buddha for us to break the fate of the dust.

The Buddha then turned me into a tree.

Grow by the side of the road that you must pass.

Flowers bloom discreetly in the sun.

The flowers are the hope of my past life.

When you approach. Please listen carefully.

The trembling leaf is the enthusiasm I am waiting for.

And when you finally ignore the walk.

Falling to the ground behind you.

Friend, that's not petals.

That's my withered heart.

Xi Murong.

At 12:13 p.m., a child can be seen walking in the corner of the building, his face cannot be seen, if the news is not spread 5 posts, the family will be ruined, and the heart of the child who died will be killed.