What are some modern poems that praise hometown? Preferably short.

Hometown moonlit night. The canopy of heaven fell quietly.

Nostalgia flows gently from the end of the pen Recalling the wilderness of my hometown.

The silver-white moonlight was barked soft by the dog.

The small village stretched out its long ears to listen to the memories of the syrup of the years silently nurturing a strong nostalgia.

The old locust tree at the head of the village is as old as the years.

Grandpa's story grows here Dry tobacco pouches stained with moonlight.

Downstairs with the stars in a dream, knocking on the wood door of the years, the sweetness and simplicity gurgled out.

Under the oil lamp, my mother's folk song slowly incorporated into the soles of my shoes.

The emotion that bit me touched the poplars outside the door and shook off the moonlight.

Even more moved, the barking of dogs floating outside the village continued to linger far away.

The moonlight in the treetops was gently bitten.

And the village, in its deep sleep, ferments the gentle night into the dawn of dawn.

Much more. Xi Murong's "Homesickness" and "The Ballad of the Great Wall".

When I was a child, I always wondered how this winding road could be so long, so that my little me would never reach the end of the road.

When I was a child, I always complained, how could this closed and crowded town be so small, so that I could never see the end of the sky.

When I was a child, I wanted to fly, I always felt that family affection was restricting my wings, I always felt that my dreams were sealed in love, and I was always impatient.

When I grow up, the road of my hometown, the water of my hometown.

It can only be carefully reminiscent in dreams.

The lights of the city are bright, but the one that belongs to me is missing.

The sky of the city is vast, but it lacks the wings that shelter me from the wind and rain.

The long road of my hometown, now that I want to come, it is like a thread, tying the wanderer's wandering heart.

The city of my hometown, if it is covered like a shed, is the eternal spiritual refuge of the wanderer.

A street in my hometown, an old street.

A pot of wine, a pot of old wine.

One **, one old**.

There are many people in the street, but many of them seem to know each other.

Looking at each of their faces, they are printed with sunshine, smiles, visions for tomorrow, and joy for the whole family reunion.

All this is like a pot of wine, never get tired of it, and the older it gets, the more fragrant it becomes.

It's like deducing**, it seems to be repeated every day, but there are new insights every day.

The autumn wind blows the leaves all over the ground, the autumn wind, don't let it become in a hurry, I just ask it to replace the light yellow, simple and fragrant.

For this is my home, my home.

Hometown Moonlit Night (modern poem).

The canopy of heaven fell quietly.

Nostalgia flows gently from the end of the pen.

Remembering the wilderness of my hometown.

The silvery-white moonlight.

Barked by dogs to crispy and soft.

The village sticks out its long ears.

Listen to the memories of the syrup of time.

Silently pregnant with a strong nostalgia.

The old locust tree at the head of the village is as old as the years.

Grandpa's story grows here.

Dry tobacco pouches stained with moonlight.

Dreaming with the stars upstairs.

Knock on the door of the years.

Glycol and rustic gurgle out.

Under the oil lamp, my mother's folk song slowly incorporated into the soles of my shoes.

That bites my emotions.

Touched the poplar outside the door.

Shake off the moonlight.

I was even more impressed. Dogs barking outside the village.

Continuous. Far away.

The moonlight looking out from the treetops.

I was bitten gently.

And the village is sleeping.

Put the gentle night.

Ferment the dawn of dawn.

A Song to My Hometown

Looking at Bai, there are some wrinkles on his hometown's face.

But she was still young.

Who's got the strength.

DAO work.

Just shout at the valley: hometown.

She looked young, but she had forgotten a lot of things.

Including their own birth, marriage.

There are many rules in my hometown, and everything is about a balance of yin and yang.

The only thing I don't talk about is seniority.

The children and grandchildren of the children and grandchildren, all of them call him by his name.

The sound of the water is sweet and beautiful - better than jade liquid elixir, like fairy music in the world! The wanderer wanders the world alone. 2, "Hometown" My hometown is in that beautiful place, the green pines on the mountains are like a green ocean, the branches are luxuriant, dancing in the wind, and the sound of pine waves.

In my hometown, there is a small river that flows meandering through the village.

Weeping willows put on long hair, and the little ones came.

version, immediately floated up, a crystal power of the water, a wave of waves. A cool and gentle breeze rippled on the water.

Wherever you go? You're all around me. Murmuring, twisting and turning, never interfere!

Hometown A bai street, an old street. du

A pot of wine, a pot of old wine. A **zhi, an old dao**. People in the street pass by.

There are a lot of them, but many of them are familiar with each other. Looking at each of their faces, they are printed with sunshine, smiles, visions for tomorrow, and joy for the whole family reunion. All this is like a pot of wine, never get tired of it, and the older it gets, the more fragrant it becomes.

It's like deducing**, it seems to be repeated every day, but there are new insights every day. The autumn wind blows the leaves all over the ground, the autumn wind, don't let it become in a hurry, I just ask it to replace the light yellow, simple and fragrant. For this is my home, my home.

1, "Hometown Beauty".

The sweetest hometown water, the most beautiful is the country sound.

The water is sweet and the country sounds beautiful——

It's like jade liquid, like fairy music in the world!

The wanderer wanders the world alone.

2, "Hometown".

My hometown is in that beautiful place.

The green pines of the mountains are like a sea of green.

The foliage is lush and dances in the wind.

The sound of the pine waves is like that symphonic movement.

The green pine embrace is a symbol of unity.

Standing tall and tall is the pillar of the hometown.

Surrounded by mountains, the fragrance of flowers wafts around.

Beautiful scenery by the mountains and rivers.

The small river is sparkling.

The greenery looks even more brilliant.

A hometown haunted by dreams.

You are my loveliest hometown.

3, "Miss You, Hometown".

After the rain, the morning sun decorates the clouds, and the golden-winged bird flappes its wings and looks around.

Waving Supa, I beckoned

Ah, I miss you, hometown!

Wear a thousand paper kites to the blue sky and gently let go of the first dream of childhood.

The fading back, I quietly pursued-

Ah, I miss you, hometown!

Frolicking and playing on the other side of the river beach, the branches droop down with heavy bale incense.

In the bleak autumn wind, I stood indifferently

Ah, I miss you, hometown!

In order to extend the oath from generation to generation, a red bean was carefully sown in fertile soil.

The candlelight was blazing, and I shook my head

Ah, I miss you, hometown!

O man! No matter how long you have been away from home, no matter how high your status is, whether you are poor or rich, the most difficult thing to give up is the hometown feelings, the most unforgettable is the hometown landscape, the most want to eat the hometown food, the most want to hear the hometown rhyme, and the most want to do is to contribute to the hometown.

In recent years, the people of Zhucheng in my hometown, under the leadership of the municipal party committee and the city, have developed the local economy, built a beautiful home, the road is wide and the buildings are in order, the traffic is orderly, the factories are prosperous, the mountains and rivers are beautiful, and they have become a dazzling pearl embedded in the land of southeast Shandong, a giant dragon of economic take-off, and a model of reform and opening up, attracting countless people from all over the country to visit, visit, investigate, discuss and study.

People said, "The cities are many." Zhucheng has always been a place where talents come out in large numbers, a cultural city, and a dryland wharf.

A large number of literati such as Su Dongpo, Liu Yong, Zang Kejia, and Tao Yu have not only increased the popularity of Zhucheng, but also left a large amount of valuable cultural heritage for Zhucheng, which may also be the reason why I like poetry. Foreign trade, Foton, Delisi, groom II e

Hometown Moonlit Night (Modern Poem) The Sky Falls Quietly Nostalgia Gently flows from the end of the pen Recalling the wilderness of my hometown The silver-white moonlight is made crisp and soft by the dog The village stretches out its long ears Listens to the memory of the syrup of the years Silently pregnant with a strong nostalgia The old locust tree at the head of the village is as old as the years Grandpa's story grows here The dry tobacco pouch stained with moonlight Falling into a dream with the stars Knocking on the firewood door of the years Sweet and simple gurgling out Under the oil lamp Mother's folk song slowly incorporated into the sole of the shoe The emotion that bites me Touched the poplar outside the door The roar of the moonlight shook off and moved me even more The barking of the dogs drifting outside the village continued to linger in the distance, and the moonlight looking out from the treetops was gently bitten, and the village was in its deep sleep, fermenting the gentle night into the dawn of dawn.

The years have been cold, and the hometown is idle.

In the cold night, this longing goes to the forest and to the farmland.

Holding corn stalks, playing hide and seek, playing stubborn.

The north wind blows, the snowflakes drift, and the joy is leisurely.

At the foot of Langya Mountain, it is my hometown and my cradle.

Ten miles of golden beach, ten miles of peach garden.

Wind and rain, how many years?

The hardest to forget, during the summer vacation:

In the shade of the trees, the cicadas are chirping.

In the pond: play in the water and pick the lily.

By the sea: Facing the stormy waves, hoisting the sails, and swinging the fishing boat.

In the fishing song: At night, I don't want to return.

How much do you want in your dreams?

Looking at the hometown, the affection is lingering.

The scenery of the hometown is good, and the water of the hometown is also sweet.

When will it triumph?

May I ask the children's hospital when V sent a class**.

People say that Shanxi is beautiful.

The ground is fertile, the water is beautiful, and the grains are fragrant.

The left hand points to Taihang Mountain.

The finger of the right hand is Lu Liang.

Stand on that high place and look at it.

Look at the water of the Fen River.

It flows through my village.

music...

Apricot blossoms bloom in the apricot blossom village.

Men are not afraid of a thousand hardships.

The daughter can rust ten thousand flowers.

People have the ambition to never grow old.

Look at the white-haired mother-in-law.

Straighten up that waist like seventeen or eighteen.

music...

Children are in their prime.

Men are not afraid of a thousand hardships.

The daughter can rust ten thousand flowers.

People have the ambition to never grow old.

Look at the white-haired mother-in-law.

Straighten up that waist like seventeen or eighteen.

The most unforgettable.

The small river of the hometown.

There the industrious women do the laundry.

Naughty kids frolicking.

There is a smell of motherhood there.

There are memories of my childhood.

Hard to forget. Country roads.

How many times I walked by holding my mother's hand.

I still remember the apple tree of that year.

The trees are full of fruit.

Pick one that tastes so sweet.

Can't forget the old nest at home.

Here's a record of my growth.

Walk on the country road again.

The past reappears again and again.

I love your hometown forever.

"In Praise of Fuzhou".

There are birds flying in the sky.

There are Fuzhou people running on the ground.

The sea has a sense of fraternity.

Fuzhou has an inclusive humanity.

I love this beauty of home.

Better than the lantern when the wife is married.

I love this kind of hometown beauty even more.

Compared to the smile of the girl's love.

Fuzhou is more beautiful.

It is as beautiful as a piece of jade on the ground.

A piece of 5,000-year-old cultural carving of Fuzhou.

To Guizhou Song Zhao Ximai.

The long pavilion is complicated by the short pavilion, and the ten years arrive in Guizhou City.

The river flies from the egret to the side, and the cloud grows in the green hills.

Every time the housework is abolished due to official affairs, the psalms are mostly completed by guests.

There is no honor or disgrace in cultivating mulberry, but he regrets that he was short-lived.

1. I have been away from my hometown for a long time, and I have been half-worn recently. Only the mirror lake in front of the door, the spring breeze does not change the old waves. ——Tang He Zhizhang, "Two Songs of Returning to the Hometown Puppet Book".

Vernacular interpretation: I have been away from my hometown for a long time, and after returning home, I feel that the personnel changes in my hometown are too great. Only the clear water of the mirror lake in front of the door, ripples in circles under the spring breeze, is exactly the same as more than 50 years ago.

2. Who lives in Wuyi Lane, looking back makes people remember their home. ——Tang Sun Yuanyan, "Wuyi Lane".

3. The old hometown of Jiangnan and Jiangbei has been a dream for 30 years. Wuyuan Palace is now cold, and Guangling Hall has been desolate. ——Five Generations Li Yu "Crossing the Middle River and Looking at the Stone City and Weeping".

Vernacular interpretation: Jiangnan and Jiangbei are my old hometown, which has been like a dream for 30 years, but now it has become deserted, and Guanglingtai has become extremely deserted.

4. Things are not empty intestines, and dreams of entering Fangzhou Road. - Song Cai Shen, "Fortune Operator".

Vernacular interpretation: When you return to the original place is no longer the same place, and people are no longer the people you know, you will inevitably feel sad in your heart, and look back like you have had a beautiful dream.

5. The hometown is gone, and the distance is also the same. - Tang Dufu, "No Home".

Vernacular interpretation: Since the hometown is now gone, it doesn't matter how far or near you say.

Of: The old for a new look!

He Zhizhang's: The young man left home and returned to the eldest child, and the hometown voice did not change and the sideburns urged. When children don't know each other, they smile and ask where they come from!

Modern: Yesterday, this was a village, life, for many years.

Poverty and backwardness plague people, and modern civilization is so distant and insignificant.

In the morning light, Abba was working in the fields, Grandma was cooking by the stove in the smoke, children were rolling in the straw, and the girl picked up a load of swaying sunset ...... from the stream

Oh, it's just a few years, and the changes are beyond people's imagination.

This village on the edge of the motherland has miraculously changed its appearance.

The highway has replaced the muddy old road, and the dilapidated mud houses have been transformed into factory buildings.

The children's playground is full of laughter and laughter, and the illuminated fountains are decorated like a fairyland.

What about the people? What about the folks I know?

Have you left the place where you have lived for generations?

No, they did not leave their homeland, in the SAR, those familiar faces can be seen everywhere.

They drove trucks, transported cement and steel, carried leather bags, and negotiated with foreign businessmen to set up factories.

With the lights, you are invited to swim in the ocean of knowledge, and dance and sing to the music.

It's no longer just about three meals, looking at the feet, the eyes of exploration have crossed the border and shot in all directions.

From the appearance to the soul is renewed, just like the colorful special zone new city.

This is the former peasants who faced the loess with their backs to the sky, and the reform and opening up gave them wings, like spring swallows flying on the fields, conveying new information and depicting a beautiful spring.

Hope it helps!