Good afternoon, please give me a warm poem

From tomorrow, be a happy person.

Feed the horses, chop wood, and travel the world.

From tomorrow, care about food and vegetables.

I have a house facing the sea, and the spring flowers are blooming.

From tomorrow onwards, correspond with each and every one of our loved ones.

Tell them about my happiness.

The blissful lightning told me.

I'm going to tell everybody.

Give every river and every mountain a warm name.

Stranger, I bless you too.

May you have a bright future.

May you have a lover and eventually become married.

May you be blessed on earth.

And I just want to face the sea, and the spring flowers bloom.

A bunch of words and sentences, no rhyme, it's not a poem at all, I don't know who can give you this so-called poem. It is recommended to change the Tibetan tail to the hidden head, rewrite it, and have the rhyme that the poem should have.

Jin Ge Iron Horse is like a god, and Emperor Shun Huaxia casts ambition.

Gold: The golden bottle of sake is ten thousand, and the jade plate is shy and ten thousand dollars. - Li Bai, "Difficult to Walk (Part 1)".

Ancient poems Jin Se Li Shangyin.

Jin Se gratuitously fifty strings, one string and one pillar Si Hua Nian.

Zhuang Shengxiao dreams of butterflies, and hopes that the emperor will trust the cuckoo in spring.

There are tears in the pearl of the sea and the moon, and the blue field is warm and the jade is smoking.

This situation can be remembered by Wan Wan, but it was already clear at the time.

Untitled Li Shangyin.

It is difficult to say goodbye when we meet, and the east wind is powerless.

The spring silkworm is dead to the end, and the wax torch turns to ash and tears begin to dry.

Xiaojing but the clouds and temples have changed, and the night chant should feel the cold moonlight.

There is no way to go to Pengshan, and the blue bird is diligent to visit.

Spring. Song Dynasty: Zhu Xi.

Shengri seeks the Fangsi waterfront, and the boundless scenery is new.

Waiting for leisure to know the east wind side, thousands of purples and thousands of reds are always spring.

Jiangnan Spring. Tang Dynasty: Du Mu.

Thousands of miles of warblers cry green and red, and the water village mountain Guo wine flag wind.

There are 480 temples in the Southern Dynasty, and how many buildings are in the smoke and rain.

Yongliu willow branch words.

Tang Dynasty: He Zhizhang.

The jasper is made into a tree high, and ten thousand green silk ribbons hang down.

I don't know who cut out the thin leaves, and the spring breeze in February is like scissors.

Looking at the south of the Yangtze River, transcendent Taiwan.

Song Dynasty: Su Shi.

Spring is not old, and the wind is thin and willow is oblique. Try to see it on the transcendent stage, half a trench spring water and a city of flowers. Smoke and rain are dark.

After the cold food, the wine wakes up but sighs. Hugh thinks about the old people and the old country, and will try new tea with new fire. Poetry and wine take advantage of the youth.

Spring is happening. Song Dynasty: Cheng Hao.

The clouds are light and the wind is light near noon, and the flowers follow the willows over the front river.

When people don't know how to be happy, they will be called idle teenagers.

Butterfly love flowers, warm rain and sunny wind, the beginning of the frost.

Song Dynasty: Li Qingzhao.

The warm rain and sunny wind are beginning to break the freezing, and the willow eyes and plum cheeks are already feeling the spring heartbeat. Who shares the poetry of wine? Tears melt and the remnants of the flowers are heavy.

At first glance, the jacket is sewn with gold threads, the mountain pillow is oblique, and the pillow is damaged by the hairpin head phoenix. There is no good dream when you are alone, and you still cut the lights at night.

The light rain in the sky street is as moist as a crisp, and the grass color is close but there is none. It is the most beneficial spring of the year, and it is absolutely better than the smoke and willows in the imperial capital.

The spring breeze is on the south bank of the Green River, when will the bright moon shine on me?

I don't know who cut out the thin leaves, and the spring breeze in February is like scissors.

Natural life.

Hu Bingyan said that life is natural, and joy is like stars.

The angry rain shook and thundered, and the cold was cold.

One day with you for a long date, no resignation to be the person of your dreams.

The seventeenth part of the word Lin Zhengyun.

Wen iron roll agarwood.

The cheeks and lips hung with snow, and Fang vomited a light cold cry.

Shake the body and stand on the branches.

lightly smeared with slight clouds and jade, dressed in gauze and lined with eyebrows.

Sympathy, the heart is lonely.

Raise a glass and invite a guest.

Watch the plum blossoms fall and the pear blossoms that are.

The east wind is all over the ground, and the smoke and rain are difficult to cover this color.

It's time to comfort the thyroid tumor gymnasium, hurry up and give it to me in the afternoon.

"Poetry".

Tang Dumu. Since it is late to go to school in spring, there is no need to be sad and resentful.

The wind fell crimson, and the green leaves were full of branches.

Spring flowers spring.

Walk towards the branches. Colorful season.

Count the buds.

Winter is already exhausting.

Shake the remnants of snow off your body.

Dew drops on the petals.

A light breeze blows off the fragrance.

Lost in the sky.

Listen to the birdsong.

The sun is shining.

Bask in the frozen heart.

Blossom to the clouds of the earth.

Hurt spring (one) night alone in the small building at night to dip incense, looking at the bright moon and clouds.

Tears under the paulownia tree, holding up the spring breeze and sorrow.

Wounded spring (2) early spring blooms towering poplars, no glamorous, no fragrance, no makeup.

Falling into lovesickness, who will pity the vicissitudes of flowers?

Wind chimes The heart of longing.

Hang out for you on a windy night.

There is no promise in the wind.

The stronger the wind, the more lonely it is, and the crisp pain is spoken.

The sound drowns out the lost dreams.

If there is a wind, there is no promise.

If there is no wind, there is loneliness.

Only regret in the wind.

Only in the center of the wind crushed.

No matter how fast the pace is, you can't catch it back.

No louder sound can be recalled.

Keep your heartbeat in your eyes.

If there is a wind, there is no promise.

If there is no wind, there is loneliness.

The heart is also silent in sorrow.