Some beautiful and sad poems in modern times

Haizi "September".

A patch of wildflowers on the steppe that witnessed the death of the gods.

The wind that is far away is farther away than the far away.

My piano sobbed and my tears were gone.

I return this far land to the grassland.

One is called the horse's head and the other is called the horse's tail.

My piano sobbed and my tears were gone.

In the distance, only a field of wildflowers condenses in death.

The bright moon hangs high above the grassland like a mirror, reflecting thousands of years.

My piano sobbed and my tears were gone.

Fight a horse alone across the grassland.

Xi Murong's "Lotus's Heart".

I am a blooming summer lotus, I hope you can see me now.

The wind and frost have not yet eroded, and the autumn rain has not yet dropped.

The season of youth has left me again, and I have been in a pavilion, not worried, nor afraid.

Now, it is, the most beautiful moment, but the heavy door has been locked, after the fragrant smile, who knows my lotus's heart.

You, who didn't have a chance, either came too early or ...... too lateGu Cheng "Don't".

In the spring, you waved your handkerchief, did you let me go away, or did you return immediately?

No, it's nothing, it's nothing, it's like a falling flower in water, like the dew on a flower......

Only the shadow understands, only the wind can understand, only the colorful butterflies that sigh and startle are still flying in the heart......

Gu Cheng's "Far and Near".

You, one will look at me, the other will look at the clouds.

I think, when you look at me, it's far away, and when you look at the clouds, it's close.

Xi Murong "Enlightenment".

The woman waded into the river to pick the hibiscus.

It was only yesterday.

And the white clouds on the river for thousands of years.

But only remained.

A few anonymous poems.

So my experience today.

And something different.

The love that made me cry like that.

Looking back, it's not.

It's like a dream, Gu Cheng's "Confidence".

You said. Don't believe in it anymore.

No more fingerprints.

Clench your little fists.

Don't believe it anymore. Squinting.

Walk alone on the road of falling leaves.

Let those laid-back winds.

Surprised behind me.

You walk proudly.

Everything has been decided.

Walking. It seems to be behind you.

followed by one who was too depressed to cry.

Child. He called fate.

Gu Cheng "Think More, Love".

I'm tired of walking into late autumn.

Fallen leaves overflowing among the monasteries.

Cover me up and want to fall.

In the tumult, I submerged in the sea of eternity.

Think more, love. Wait until the bones turn white.

Let the hands and hair.

Take a trip to the white rain.

Let the hand hold the hand.

Quietly turned into a skeleton.

Most of Gu Cheng's poems are sad. In addition, his long poem "I am a wayward child" I personally like very much.

Xi Murong's poetry is more beautiful.

Error 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, and the catkins in March do not fly.

Your heart is like a little lonely city.

Just like the bluestone street is late.

The sound of 跫 (qióng) is not loud, and the spring curtain in March is not revealed.

Your heart is a little window closed.

My Dada's hooves are beautiful mistakes.

I'm not a returnee, I'm a passerby......