Ask for contemporary ancient poetry, thank you. Help me write a modern poem Thank you

2.Often.

We didn't talk about it very often.

State, state affairs.

International relations are also not discussed.

**War. But since you studied abroad.

We've got a lot more in our conversations.

A lot of content that is not available.

We often refer to domestic and foreign.

Our motherland is often mentioned.

3.I want my son to have insomnia at night (2 poems).

Zero o'clock taps to sleep, and tears flow from the idea of stupidity.

When I was young, I always looked forward to my children growing up, and when I got older, I was more intimate and small.

4.Si'er. Nian Nian Sisi turned his head and returned the hand with a light input.

Originally, I only talked yesterday, how can it be like every other three autumns.

If the two love for a long time.

And in the morning and twilight?

It was once difficult to turn the sea into water.

But Wushan is not a cloud.

There are no colorful phoenix wings.

The heart is clear.

May people last a long time.

Thousands of miles together.

It's hard to say goodbye when you meet.

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.

After the flowers are honeyed, it will be sweet for whomever it is hard.

In the original work of the day. Winged birds, in the ground, willing to be a branch.

Ten years of life and death.

Don't think about it. Unforgettable.

Zhuang Shengxiao dreams of butterflies.

Emperor Wang's spring heart trusts the cuckoo.

This can be recalled.

It's just that it was already clear at the time.

Things are people, not everything.

Tears flow first.

Mo Dao does not kill the soul.

The curtain rolls in the west wind, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.

There is no way to eliminate this.

Only then did he frown. But it was in my heart

The flowers float and the water flows freely.

A kind of acacia. Two sorrows.

This time, what a one, sad words!

Enter my lovesick door.

I know that I am lovesick.

Sauvignon Blanc and long reminiscence.

Sauvignon Blanc is endless.

The belt gradually widened, and I never regretted it.

For the sake of Yipin, the people are haggard.

The days are long and the days are endless.

This hatred lasts forever.

May you pick more.

This thing is the most lovesick night and night.

Sijun doesn't see you.

Drink the water of the Yangtze River.

The above are all classic love verses for reference. "Sauvignon Blanc is long-lasting, Sauvignon Blanc is endless.

Maybe it's a good fit for you.

The mood now.

Youth is a dream.

But there will be a day when I wake up from a dream.

Youth is a small river.

But there will be a day when it dries up.

Youth is a rainbow.

But one day it will disappear.

Youth is a blooming flower.

But there will be a day when it will wither.

Youth is the fine sand in the hand.

Before you know it, it's gone.

Youth is a shooting star in the sky.

Although it is beautiful, it is gone in an instant.

Youth is the fragrance left by happiness.

Wanting to cherish it is gone.

Youth is a flower.

Swaying slowly in the breeze.

That tall and beautiful body.

It's always fragrant.

You can't help but reach out and caress it.

Kiss it. Youth is a song.

Gently wafting in the intoxicating air.

The crisp notes.

Quietly converge into a beautiful melody.

You can't help but listen to it.

Praise it. Youth is a glass of wine.

Float slowly in the jade light cup.

That sweet and fragrant taste.

It has been rippling with a sweet smell for a long time.

It's always tempting to raise a glass to it. Drink it.

What is youth?

It's a memory left on the swing.

It is a trail of footprints left on the snow.

It's a line of tears left on the old **.

It's the red cotton jacket that I wore in my memory.

That's what youth looks like.

Slowly turn what I did a long time ago into a memory.

Then. It's a happy smile on the corner of the lips.

Tree Ai Qing. A tree, a tree.

Standing alone from each other.

Wind and air. Tell them the distance.

But under the cover of dirt.

Their roots stretch.

In the depths of the unseen.

They intertwined the roots.

A life passes quietly.

The face that no longer had any expression.

The eyes that no longer opened.

A life passes quietly.

All that is left for loved ones is tears.

Flowers that are about to die.

Layers of dead leaves under the trees.

A life passes quietly.

There was silence all around.

A life passes quietly.

Although there will be no second life in life.

But as his loved ones, he must be strong.

Because you love him dearly.

So you have to live better for him.

Bing Xin's "Paper Boat".

I never want to give up a piece of paper, I always keep it—keep it.

Stacked into a very small boat, they were thrown out of the boat and thrown into the sea.

Some were swept into the windows of the boat by the wind, and some were wet by the waves and stuck on the bow of the boat.

I still don't lose heart, and I always hope 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 with tears in her eyes, thousands of rivers and mountains, begging it to return with her love and sorrow.

Do You Have to Go? —Rabindranath Tagore.

Traveler, do you have to go?

The night was quiet, and darkness slept in the woods.

The terrace is brightly lit, the flowers are bright, and the young eyes are still awake.

Traveler, do you have to go?

We have not bound your feet with supplicating arms, your door is open, and your horse is saddled and stands at the door.

If we try to stand in your way, it is only with our singing, and if we have tried to stand in your way, it is only with our eyes.

Traveler, there is nothing we can do to keep you, we only have tears.

What is the unquenchable fire that burns in your eyes?

What is the restless frenzy running in your blood?

What is the call in the darkness urging you? What terrible magic do you see among the stars in the sky, that the night with a sealed secret message has entered your silent and strange heart?

O weary heart, if you do not love merry gatherings, if you must be quiet, we will put out our lamps, and we will no longer play our harps.

We sit quietly in the sound of the leaves in the night, and the weary moon will shine pale on your window.

Traveler, what sleepless spirit touched you from the heart of midnight?

Tie a Heartstring – Rabindranath Tagore.

The sound of your lyre.

Ups and downs, change.

The strings were quietly tied to me.

A heartstring. Since then my heart has been around all year round.

Together with the music you play.

Clanging, my soul with your melody.

Rippling. Your eyes shine with mine.

The lamp of hope, blended in the fragrance of your flowers.

My vision. From now on, day and night, between your peerless beauty.

My heart shines, blooms, and shakes pleasantly, and the shadow of my soul looms.

on your face.

What is the general aspect? What is it used for?

A small hole in the straw hat and straw hat.

It's the sunshine I give.

Door after door opened.

You see the sun coming down.

They mischievously stepped on my shadow.

My shadow left their footprints.