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Long Live Youth Preface - Wang Meng.

Come all the days, all the days, let me weave you, with the golden thread of youth, and the beauty of happiness, weave you.

There was the singing and laughing on the boat, the dancing on campus under the moon, the drizzle of the rain, the march on the morning of the first snow, and the lively arguments, and the beating and warm ...... of the heart

It is the days that have passed in a blink of an eye, and it is also a day full of reverie, and the wishes are blurred, like the spring rain, we have time, strength, and burning faith, and we are eager to live and fly in the sky.

It is a simple day, but also a changeable day, the vast world, everything makes us so amazed, always elated, never indifferent, tears, laughter, deep thought, all for the first time.

Go all the days, go, in life I move forward happily, no matter how heavy the burden I will not weaken, no matter how severe the battle I will not lose face;

One day, after wiping the gun, wiping the machine, and wiping the sweat, I miss you, greet you, and look at you with pride.

Add one more song; You are a diligent gardener.

Make dewdrops with knowledge.

Cultivating the flowers of the motherland.

You are the candle of selflessness.

Spend your whole life dedicating.

Burn yourself to illuminate others.

You said. Have students all over the world.

It's your life's wish.

On the three-foot podium.

Valiant. It's your eternal affection.

Flying on the blackboard.

It's your sweat.

The tip of the brush strokes flows.

It's your expectation.

You use motherly loving hands.

Soothe the hearts of thousands of people.

Hold up thousands of dreams.

Realize every hope.

Teacher, teacher.

You use love and perseverance.

Stick to the glorious cause of the people's teachers.

You use high work ethic and conduct.

Fulfill the sacred duty of the people's teacher.

You use a great and vast amount of knowledge.

Nurturing generations of pillars.

In this coming of age, September.

I am grateful.

Welcome your holiday season.

Let me say it sincerely:

Hello teacher.

Teacher, you've worked hard.

Happy Holidays to you!

The cold coffee left the coaster.

The emotions I held back were very much behind.

Desperately trying to get back to the past.

It's still visible on my face.

The most beautiful thing is not the rainy day.

It's the eaves that have sheltered from the rain with you oh

Pictures of memories.

Swinging on the swing, the dream is not sweet.

You said that if you let go of your love gradually, you will go further.

And why bother changing the time that has been missed.

You use your fingertips to stop me from saying goodbye.

Imagine you're around before losing completely.

You said that if you let go of your love gradually, you will go further.

Perhaps the sign of fate is only for us to meet.

Just let us fall in love this season.

It was only after the drift that I found this fragment of happiness.

How do you want me to pick it up.

|Chung Yeung Festival poetry Lang.

Transcription 1st grade |Raid 200 words or less |Other.

Chung Yeung Festival Expression".

Ninety-nine Double Ninth Festival is not remembered, invite friends to go to the mountain together.

Step on the steep mountains and climb high to look at the mountains.

The sea of clouds has passed under the boundless feet, and the ancient trees are secluded and the trees are forested.

The mountains are full of red, and the water is clear in the glow.

The mountain path bends, and the winding bridge enters the water to see the shadow.

The boulder lies drunk in the mountain stream, looking down at the heaven and the earth and the ghosts.

The grass is green and green, and the Chongyang autumn tour climbs to the top of the mountain.

Up to the top of the mountain is a hero, and the twilight and sunset are not old.

"Book of the Afterlife: Preface Poem".

Now I just want to be quiet.

Lying beside a person, let the shadow of the clouds in the sky.

Thousands of years have drifted across our faces.

We have loved and forgotten.

It grows like grass, burrowing through our fingers, drowning our bodies until.

It turns into dust, fossils, and starry skies.

The rustling of fallen leaves, talking to us, this is the song of spring birds in the distance, the water flowing through the houses of the world, and people walking through old dreams and waste poems, sunsets and broken bridges.

Walking through the crumbs of our words, the long nights we spend with resentment;

Sing some hoarse out-of-tune ballads and laugh a laugh that never whirls for anyone again.

So a few articles.

You can refer to. 1, Gorky's "Haiyan".

2, Lu Xun "Snow".

3. "Snow, Falling on the Land of China".

4, Shu Ting's "To the Oak Tree".

A flowering tree.

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 form a relationship with the earth.

The Buddha 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.

That trembling leaf.

It's the enthusiasm I was waiting for.

And when you finally walk by in defiance.

Falling to the ground behind you.

Friend, that's not petals.

That's my withered heart.