300 words of modern poetry, to write your own answer, who is faster who answers

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

Lingering in a long, long.

And lonely rain alley, I hope to meet.

A clove like that.

A girl with a grudge.

She is. The color of cloves, the fragrance of cloves, the sorrow of cloves, grieving in the rain, complaining and hesitating;

She wandered in this lonely rainy alley, holding an oil-paper umbrella.

Like me, like me.

Walking silently, indifferent, desolate, and melancholy.

She approached silently.

Approached, cast again.

She floated by with a breath-like gaze.

Like a dream, like a dream, as sad and confused.

It's like floating in a dream.

A lilac field, beside me, floated the girl;

She quietly went away, far away, to the crumbling hedge, and walked through the rainy alley.

In the lamentation of the rain, her color was dissipated, her fragrance was scattered, and even hers was dissipated.

The eyes of the breath, the melancholy of the lilacs.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

Lingering in a long, long.

Another lonely rainy alley, I hope to float through.

A clove like that.

A girl with a grudge.

Broken Chapter - Bian Zhilin.

You stand on the bridge and look at the view, and the people watching the view are looking at you from upstairs.

The bright moon decorates your windows, and you decorate other people's dreams.

Life can actually be a poem.

If you can let me move slowly.

Quietly looking forward to searching.

With a deepening twilight.

After the quagmire of the unknowable.

In the dark clouds.

Finally shed tears for all.

Missed or not missed encounters.

In fact, life can always become a poem in the end.

After the pouring rain.

My heart will be purified.

If you're willing to wait.

All the clouds that float erratically.

Eventually, it will all become a river.

Title: A poem written for you.

As you pass by my window, I look back with sympathetic eyes.

This window is not a dream, it only welcomes you to my side.

Your blonde hair hangs down to your shoulders, and your purple hands clench matches to matches.

Your little red face is no longer smiling, and your royal blue eyes are full of longing.

You won't be cold anymore because of me.

I will put on a padded jacket for you.

You won't be hungry anymore because of me.

I'll give you a bag of candy.

You won't be sad anymore because of me.

I'll take your little hand.

Folded a bottle of Wish Star and wished you eternal peace of mind.

Fold a string of paper cranes, and wish you eternal happiness.

Your pure soul has become a star in the night, and I will always stand by the window and look up at the brightest star in the sky.

The hedge is sparse and deep, and the trees are new and green.

If there is an afterlife, you should be a tree and stand in a posture of eternity, without joy or sorrow.

Praise spring.

In that harsh winter.

Spring has already been conceived.

Look at the red plum in the wind and snow.

Spring is written on every petal.

Spring fills people.

Joy, yearning and hope.

When the rivers thaw.

The snow and ice melt. Everything recovers.

When the earth is green.

We're really in the spring.

Ah......The song in the spring is so sweet.

The flowers in spring are so delicate.

The smiling face of spring is so charming.

The spring air is so fresh.

The tree is so green.

The mountains are so high.

The water is so blue.

The sun shines brightly in Kyushu.

The east wind is mighty and the spring is full of gardens.

I want to fly away with the wind.

Blend in with this wonderful spring.

Spring is full of life.

Bring infinite beauty and strength to people.

Bringing new hope to the world.

You use that hot hand.

Heals the wounds in your soul.

You use that hot heart.

Warm the wilderness of the earth.

Your smile. dispelled the gloom and gloom.

You put love selflessly.

Dedicated to the world.

Year after year. Billions of vicissitudes.

Bright moonlight in front of the bed.

It is suspected to be frost on the ground.

Look up at the bright moon.

Bow your head and think of your hometown.

Li Bai begins with the moonlight as a metaphor for frost, revealing the true feelings of homesickness is helpless and cold, looking at the light source from the light, the bright moon is so bright, under the same moonlight, the hometown is so close, making people bow their heads and think about the joy of gathering with relatives vividly, borrowing the scenery and romance with the scenery, concise and easy to understand, passed down through the ages, it is the enlightenment poem of countless children. The subject matter is simple, clear and easy to understand, and the style is unforgettable, touching thousands of wanderers. The bright moon dances in the sky, and the footprints of pedestrians on the road are shallow; The head shakes in all directions, and the lovesickness is partial.

The Judgment of the Mind - Grasp Today.

Don't always look to the past.

What is gone is gone.

Happy, sad.

Like a flowing stream.

No more turning back.

Success will be overshadowed by time.

Failure will be buried by the years of dilution.

Even if it is to reminisce about the happiness that once had.

It was short-lived.

It is filled with melancholy and sadness.

Don't always look to the future.

Ideal things are always ethereal and illusory.

You can't see it, you can't touch it.

Ideal of greatness.

It may come to naught when you wake up from a dream.

The ideal castle.

Maybe it will be weathered into a sand sculpture in reality.

Even if it's tomorrow.

Everything for tomorrow.

It also seems far away today.

We're still there.

Before Dawn Spend the long dark nights.

Why not take advantage of today.

Instead of looking back and looking forward.

It's better to live today.

Today awaits us to shape lives.

Today awaits us to move forward.

Regrets of the past.

Make up for it with today's results.

Today's results.

Leave a little splendor for tomorrow's dawn.

Seize today.

Life is to rise today.

Seize today.

Life is to be ignited today.

The flowers of youth bloom today.

The colorful chapter is played today.

Life is wonderful today.

Seize today.

Never let it be.

There was regret yesterday.

Seize today.

Let this only be done once today.

Shine.

"Farewell to Kangqiao" Xu Zhimo Gently I go, just as I came gently; I beckoned softly, Farewell to the clouds of the western sky. The golden willow on the riverside is the bride in the sunset; The shadows in the sparkling waves ripple in my heart. The green wattles on the soft mud, the oily ones swagger at the bottom of the water; In the soft waves of the River Cam, I am willing to be a water weed!

A pool under the shade of the elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow crumpled among the floating algae, precipitating a rainbow-like dream. Looking for a dream? Hold a penny, wander towards the greener grass, load a boatload of starlight, and sing in the starlight.

But I can't play songs, quietly is a parting sheng flute; The summer worm is also silent for me, and silence is Kangqiao tonight. Quietly I went, as quietly I came; I waved my sleeves and didn't take away a cloud. "Farewell to Cambridge" is a beautiful lyric poem, like an elegant and beautiful light **.

In the autumn of 1928, the author visited England again, revisited the old place, and became poetic, turning his life experience into wisps of affection, which were integrated into the beautiful scenery of Kangqiao and galloped in the poet's imagination. The whole poem starts with "gently", "walking", "coming", "beckoning" and "bidding farewell to the clouds", and then uses the technique of virtual and real to depict a flowing picture, constituting a wonderful artistic conception everywhere, and meticulously expresses the poet's love for Kangqiao, the longing for the past life, and the helpless sorrow in front of him sincerely, richly and eternal. The poem shows a high degree of artistic skill of the poet.

The poet blends specific scenes and imagination together to form a vivid artistic image of the poem, and skillfully integrates the atmosphere, feelings, and scenes into artistic conception, so as to achieve the affection in the scene and the scene in the feeling. The structure and form of the poem are rigorous and neat, and they are scattered. The whole poem has 7 stanzas, each stanza is 4 lines, forming two parallel steps, the lines are slightly shorter and the lines are slightly longer, ranging from 6 to 8 characters per line, and the poet seems to have deliberately combined the forms of metrical poetry and free verse to make it a new form of poetry, rich in national and modern architectural beauty.

The language of the poem is fresh and beautiful, the rhythm is soft and euphemistic, harmonious and natural, accompanied by the ups and downs of emotion, like a melodious and slow loose board, light and tactful, plucking the reader's heartstrings.