Look for a poem published in High School Student, Autumn Thoughts, Autumn Thoughts !

Qiu Si · Si Qiu.

A faint crow. Witnessed the young branches of the old trees.

The withered vines have also had their green years.

Small bridges and old houses.

Why in the running water in front of you.

It's getting blurrier.

It was the west wind that blew the sand into my eyes.

The ancient road ahead became crooked.

Skinny horse, you can still recognize the way home.

The sun is setting.

Sunset. and westward.

The heartbroken man stained the dusk with tears.

Ask the vastness. Where is the end of the world, where is the end of the world.

Where is the end of the world, where is the end of the world.

Ask the vastness. The heartbroken man stained the dusk with tears.

and westward. Sunset.

The sun is setting.

Skinny horse, you can still recognize the way home.

The ancient road ahead became crooked.

It was the west wind that blew the sand into my eyes.

It's getting blurrier.

Why in the running water in front of you.

Small bridges and old houses.

The withered vines have also had their green years.

Witnessed the young branches of the old trees.

A faint crow.

Qiu Si · Si Qiu.

Wang. A faint crow.

Witness the young branches of old trees.

The withered vines have also had their green years.

Small bridges and old houses.

Why in the running water in front of you.

It's getting blurrier.

It was the west wind that blew the sand into my eyes.

The ancient road ahead became crooked.

Skinny horse, you still know the way home.

The sun is setting.

Sunset. and westward.

The heartbroken man stained the dusk with tears.

Ask the vastness. Where is the end of the world, where is the end of the world.

Where is the end of the world, where is the end of the world.

Ask the vast heartbreaker and tear-stain the dusk.

and westward. Sunset.

The sun is setting.

Skinny horse, you still know the way home.

The ancient road ahead became crooked.

It was the west wind that blew the sand into my eyes.

It's getting blurrier.

Why in the running water in front of you.

Small bridges and old houses.

The withered vines have also had their green years.

Witness the young branches of old trees.

A faint crow.

Withered vines and old trees, faint crows, small bridges and flowing water, ancient roads and westerly winds and thin horses. The sun is setting, and the heartbroken man is at the end of the world.

Seeing the autumn breeze in Luoyang City, I want to write a book. The fear was said in a hurry, and the pedestrians opened it again.

The moon of Emei Mountain is half in autumn, and the shadow enters the water flow of the Pingqiang River. At night, Qingxi went to the Three Gorges, and Sijun did not see Yuzhou.

A flowering tree (Xi Murong).

How to make you meet me.

In my most beautiful moments.

I have been praying 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 through in defiance.

Falling to the ground behind you.

Friend, that's not petals.

That's my withered heart.

Nostalgia (Xi Murong).

The song of my hometown is a flute of clear distance.

It always rings on a moonlit night.

The face of my hometown is a vague longing.

It's like waving goodbye in the fog.

Homesickness after parting is a tree without annual rings.

Never grow old. Uncomplaining youth (Xi Murong).

If you fall in love with someone.

Please be gentle with her.

It doesn't matter how long or how short you've been in love.

If you can always be gentle with each other, then.

All moments will be an immaculate beauty.

If you have to separate.

Say goodbye too.

Be thankful in your heart.

Thank you for giving you a note.

You'll only know when you're older.

In the moment of sudden retrospection.

Youth without resentment will have no regrets.

Like the quiet evening moon on the hill.

Farewell Kangqiao (Xu Zhimo).

Gently I go, as softly I came;

I beckoned softly, and made a cloud of the western sky.

The golden willow on the bank of the river is the bride in the sunset;

The beautiful shadow in the waves ripples in my heart.

The green wattles on the soft mud are swaggering at the bottom of the water;

In the soft waves of Kangqiao, I am willing to be a water weed!

The pool under the shade of the elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky Crushed among the floating algae, precipitating a rainbow-like dream? Hold a long artemisia, wander to the greener grass, load a boatload of starlight, and sing in the starlight.

But I can't play songs, quietly it's a parting sheng flute;

Xia Worm is also silent for me, silence is Kangqiao tonight!

Quietly I went, as quietly I came;

I waved my sleeves and didn't take a cloud with me.

Well......Search online, or buy a book.

Hehe, what's it for? Give you the address of my blog, you can see for yourself, those little feelings took root in middle school.

Excellency, I don't know what the subject is? Let's dip it casually into two practical ones.

Firecrackers" 100 years of smoke and snow and 100 years of wind, once majestic canopy.

Today, there is a lot of haze, and few people climb the Linghan warehouse.

Looking back at the real haze lord of Kyushu, the color of Danshu iron coupons is always new.

Thinking about how long the cannon dust can be, the empty canopy is also human.

Therefore, the sound of thunder is now falling to the tower, and the old light and moon have been covered with dust.

The king of the stove silently went to the sky, and the god of wealth quietly descended to earth.

Immediately fill in the words and whip away, and the dust and haze will not see the Lord return.

That is, the love of the sky and clouds is long, and the galaxy is sad a few times.

The power of the vulgar demon Xiao Xiao Ri has been stationed in the high-rise level.

For the world, he will bow down to the crown of Caixia, and finally return to Baguiobin.

Perhaps, this poem is not very mature and romantic, but the heart of serving you is the same.

Because of the memory of a deceased person, the word "Qiluo Xiang" was filled.

Full of sorrow, a river of decaying grass, returning to the sunset. The evening is just right, and only the sorrow left is left.

In the old days, the building was dreaming with you. resentment of the east wind, change the years; Recalling the beginning, a cloud of paper.

Half a roll of Hunan curtains can not be seen, and the fat inkstone is clear and delineates the clouds.

What is white snow like? Chasing poplars hatefully and thinking about the sky.

The willow wind and snow, a song of plum blossoms blows away. In the month of sycamore, the plantain is not exhibited; The shadow of the lamp is gone, and a clump of daylilies.

It seems to have been remembered, and thousands of flowers are falling, blowing to the bottom of the jade steps.

The ones in Tagore's Bird Collection are okay.

Xu Zhimo's farewell to Kangqiao.

It's a good result.

The soundtrack is OK if you just find the first light **.

Article**Lotus Mountain Courseware.

Chasing birds, into the jungle, chasing streams, into the mountains, chasing butterflies, into flowers, let us walk into the window of etiquette.

Let the little hammer wake everyone up, let us walk into the school with etiquette, let the campus be full of laughter, raise our arms high, and embrace a beautiful dream.

Turn yourself into a civilization tree and experience the joy of civilization;

Turn yourself into a ceremonial flower and feel the joy of etiquette.

Walk into the window of etiquette and bathe in civilized etiquette.

When you wake up from the dream of etiquette, you will quietly tell your little friend:

What is politeness, what is respect, what is self-love, what is self-discipline......

Everybody starts with me.

To make the earth green, to make the sky blue, to make the rivers clear, to make the air clean, to let the flowers bloom, to let the birds sing, to make the environment better, everyone starts from me.

Good manners. Although it is important to learn to be the first, it is also good to be civilized and polite.

The school rules are followed, and the teachers are polite.

Friendship between classmates, friendship is a prison.

Take care of public property and establish a new style, I will do it.

Learn to be a man, be polite, and know the "State of Etiquette".

Be courteous, respectful, polite and behave well.

Hello", "Thank you", "Sorry", civilized language is reasonable.

Sit and walk, be dignified, and behave in a civilized and cultivated manner.

Take a bath often, change clothes frequently, and be civilized and disciplined.

Classmates, neighborliness, and ethnic habits should be respected.

When you see foreign guests, you should be generous and polite.

Emphasis on etiquette, etiquette, and paving the foundation of social life. article to come.

Yuanlian Mountain courseware.

Greetings in and out of the school gate.

Dress modestly and behave generously.

Respect the national flag and sing the national anthem.

Respect teachers and students, and love classmates.

Caring for others and loving the collective.

Concentrate in class and have an active mind.

The work is neat, accurate and standardized.

Hygiene is everyone's responsibility.

Civilized dining and cherishing food.

Take care of public property and save water and electricity.

The poet walked on the streets of Luoyang City, saw the autumn wind blowing, the leaves on the trees fell down, and floated straight to the poet, he picked up a leaf in his hand, and suddenly felt a chill in his heart, remembering his hometown and his relatives in his hometown.

When I got home, I picked up the brush, and I said a thousand words, and the feelings I wanted to express were all congested in my heart, and I had a lot of thoughts, and I couldn't write enough, and I was full of homesickness.

Just now I felt that the letter had been written, and the letter was sealed, and then it was handed to the person who carried the letter, and the person who carried the letter got up to leave, and he stopped him again, and took out the letter again. Hundreds of turns, thousands of turns.

Just use the specific meaning of this poem to add your feelings, and that's it!