Which hero helps, I want some longer poems!! Urgent!!

The Spring River Flower Moon Night can just be matched with the ancient song of the Spring River Flower Moon Night.

Or pipa, both of which can be recited for 2-3 minutes.

Long hatred songs, the Palace of Eternal Life and the like, modern poems are Ai Qing's "Dayan River - My Nanny".

There are some of my own bad works, welcome to visit.

The sunset wind is light and cloudy, and the cold wind gusts, but it can't be sealed in the unhappy wind. I really want to get rid of it, maybe it's too deliberate; It is fateful that this is so. After a long time, there is no longer such a thought.

Life will always take a different form, and it will not remain as holy or graceful as the snowy fields.

At the junction of the sea and the sky, a half-falling sunset hangs leisurely on the sea level, drifting and rippling with the surging tide. Today's seaside sunset, it seems that all the good things are stopping in this changing time and space, just as in the past.

Fragrant, but also silent and sad, it is good for you to bloom for a moment, the notes float gently like a whisper, the sunset that once shocked me speechless, the figure that used to always dance in the sun flashed in front of me one by one; Those thoughts that once made me feel distressed, and all the thoughts that didn't matter.

Stay here, in order to watch the sunset on the horizon cover everything, until you can no longer see your footprints, and it is useless to sink and continue to struggle. The sunset is gradually falling, the shadow on the ground, the pain in our hearts, our backs, stretching longer and longer, looking at the other side, always feel so far away, unfathomable.

Thoughts sink into the sea in the heart unconsciously, and begin to wrap around the shore of the sunset, the pink twilight reflects your figure, which is clearly full of love, the burning color of the west sky is the color that you can't hold, and the teardrops that have been wrung out are easy to come to your heart, and the long wait can't get out of your blessings, and you can't get out of that heart.

There is also a tear, which is also a thousand reincarnations that you have waited for, and suddenly looking back at the continuous stumbling blocks, all your pride can only fly in the painting.

A star twinkles—how could you hear them talking in the deep blue of space?

In the glimmer of silence, they praised each other deeply.

How do you describe the five darknesss?

The depths of the soul, the depths of the universe, and the resting place in the brilliant light.

Eight remnants of flowers adorned the branches, and the birds flew away.

The ground is sprinkled with red—is life also such a glimpse?

One by one, the infinite mystery, where to find it?

After smiling, there is infinite mystery before words.

16 Young people!

For the sake of future memories, carefully draw your current picture.

19. My heart is like a lonely boat through the sea of undulating time.

The flower branch of 20 happiness is looking for the person to be paid in the hands of the god of fate.

26. The high mountains, the deep sea—it's the cold heart, it's the warm tears, the poor little people!

Is this how the time of 30 passes?

Nothing can be accomplished except in ethereal thoughts!

42. The clouds are in the sky, and the people are on the ground—the mind is imprisoned by the facts, and it is the root of all suffering.

Four-eight weak grass!

Be proud, only you universally decorate the world.

The poems are just a little wave in the sea of learning: yet they are bright and shining stars embedded in the sky of the mind.

The criticism and judgment of ordinary people on May Day are like a group of blind people, speculating about the moon outside the clouds.

Five-three, my heart!

Awaken not to get caught up in the vortex of nothingness!

May Fourth, my friend!

Arise, and the morning light comes, to wash your soul of the night.

Six-three point me out my friend!

I am a swallow across the sea, looking for a nest across the water.

How lovely is a spring morning?

The melting wind flutters in the sleeves and the mood quietly.

Seventy-seven small rocks are stronger, ready for the waves that urge each other.

Eighty-four is lonely!

How many spiritual boats float in your soft light.

Ninety has been sitting for a long time and pushing the window to look at the sea!

Spend all the boundless emotion on the microwave of the sky.

Is Ninety-Seven real?

The human heart is just a piano box that can't stop singing the tune repeatedly!

Ninety-eight young people!

Believe in yourself!

Only you are real, and only you can create yourself.

One-zero-three time!

Am I too sorry for you now?

But what I have left behind is temporary, and what I seek is eternal.

One Zero Seven My Friend!

Cherish it, don't throw the pearls in your heart into the sea that is difficult to make waves.

One hundred and eight hearts are cold, tears are hot: the heart - solidifies the tears of the world - softens the world.

Gather up the thoughts of the sky and the sky!

Thy central point, thy crystal, shall be my southern needle.

114 I don't know what "home" is: but boredom - sorrow is melted and eliminated in it.

One three one sea, that star has no light?

That flower doesn't have fragrance?

That time I didn't have the clear sound of your waves in my thoughts?

137 smart people abandon the fantasy flowers in your hands!

She's just an ethereal anti-separation, but the spring in your eyes.

One, four, five, heartstrings!

Bounce it up—let the goddess of memory dance to your tune.

Believe in the future with index finger.

When the cobwebs mercilessly seized my hearth.

When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty.

I still stubbornly lay out the ashes of disappointment.

Write with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future.

When my purple grapes turn to late autumn dew.

When my flowers snuggle up to someone else's feelings.

I still stubbornly use the withered vines of frost.

Write on the bleak earth: Believe in the future.

I'm going to use my fingers on the waves that rush to the horizon.

I will hold the sea of the sun with the palm of my hand.

Swaying the warm and beautiful pen of the dawn.

Write in a child's pen: Believe in the future.

The reason why I firmly believe in the future.

It is the eyes of people who believe in the future.

She has eyelashes that sweep away the dust of history.

She has the pupils to see through the pages of time.

Regardless of people's perception of our rotten flesh.

The melancholy of being lost, the pain of failure.

It is a tearful feeling of emotion and deep sympathy.

Or give a contemptuous smile and a spicy mockery.

I'm a firm believer in people's trust for our backbone.

Those countless explorations, lost, failures, and successes.

We will definitely give an enthusiastic, objective and fair evaluation.

Yes, I anxiously await their assessment.

Friends, believe firmly in the future.

Believe in indomitable efforts.

Believe in the youth that triumphs over death.

Believe in the future and love life.

Love life index finger.

Maybe my thin body is like a climbing kudzu vine, unable to grasp the future of my destiny, then please listen to my voice in the miserable wind and rain, still whispering repeatedly: love life.

Maybe after the fierce struggle of life, I will die more peacefully than the lake.

The inscription on my tablet that I asked to look for in the cemetery is still inscribed: Love life.

I have made up my mind: to use pain as a weight, and I have confidence: to use life as a scale.

I want to proclaim the value of a person's life, and I want future generations to follow my example: love life.

Indeed, I cherish what belongs to me.

It was through this winding path that I realized that life was so difficult.

I walked barefoot like a wanderer, feeling the hardness of the edges and corners of the rocks along the way, and the thorns that stood in my way.

It leaves a trail of blood on every step I take.

I walked bareback like a beggar, knowing deep that the hunger and cold in the winter wind and snow, and the scorching heat of the poisonous sun in summer, made me cherish every trace of warmth a hundred times.

But I have a personality that challenges the old forces, and even though I have been defeated, I will not take it lightly.

I have been able to live tenaciously and live until now because I believe in the future and love life.

Millet yellow, rice white.

Old rice, black rice, old gray.

Rice is humble and my sorrow.

Who is noble and who is intoxicated.

Just because of the bud of hope.

Just because of the ears of grain.

Up and down, up and down.

Pain and pain, the sun and the moon are reincarnated.

Millet yellow, rice white.

Old rice, black rice, old gray.

Rice is humble and my sorrow.

Who is noble and who is intoxicated.

The rice mountain is tall and the rice seedlings are short.

Mihara oblique rice Zhuang crooked.

A generation of the people of the first generation.

Whoever is crying is beautiful.

Only because of the burning torch.

Only because of the bloody rose.

Bumpy and bumpy, forward and backward.

From generation to generation, people's hearts are back.

The rice mountain is tall and the rice seedlings are short.

Mihara oblique rice Zhuang crooked.

A generation of the people of the first generation.

Whoever is crying is beautiful.

Autumn twilight.

An old and dark ancient ship.

Slowly approaching. My sight.

The metallic chorus of leaves rang out.

Reach our hearts.

Become a wordless butterfly.

Dancing at dusk.

The leaves move in all directions.

Like my brothers.

Away from the celebration of ** and roses.

No more singing for the wandering.

And I can't escape it.

Frost in the twilight.

With the cry of a jackdaw.

Drowning the last of my garrison.

It is also the initial apex.

The feathers were scattered by the cold wind.

The road home is long.

Even more distant than the home of the leaves.

And dusk stops at the bottom of the dry water.

Within reach. In a dim glow.

I am a remnant of a yellow leaf.

A phrase that has been cut by the autumn wind.

And such perseverance.

In autumn twilight.

There is only one direction.

This is the only way and purpose.

Doomed to all my efforts.

Just so that I can go well before the night.

Arrive at a mind sharper than teeth.

I don't need to be in tears.

The leaves are like a mighty legion.

Lead the fall to evacuate quickly.

I walked past a cemetery in the sunset.

See the sun in the distance.

Very skillfully with late-blooming flowers.

Kissing: I can still hear it faintly.

A golden stamen.

Falling brilliantly into the girl's eyes.

Blossom a few fragrant dreams.

I want to put little hands.

Resting on a peach tree branch.

With a bunch of buds, holding thousands of rays of sunshine, yo, yo-

Singing with a long voice.

I want to put my feet.

Attached to the roots of willow trees.

Reach into the wet and soft earth, soak up the sweet nutrients, long, long-

Grow into a green tent.

I want to put eyes.

Mounted on a kite.

Look at how soft the white clouds are, look at how bright the sun is, look, look-

Blue skies are my classroom.

I want to put myself on my own.

Planted in the spring of the land.

It becomes a small grass, green and shining, and it becomes a small flower and blooms beautifully.

Becoming catkins and dandelions is my greatest wish.

I'll fly, fly

Fly to distant places.

However, when flying to a distant place, you have to discuss ...... with your parents

However, when flying to a distant place, you have to discuss ...... with your parentsThis is the last stanza of the poem "I Think", and poetically it is closely related to the fourth stanza. At first glance, it seems to be a suspicion of adding to the snake, pulling the child's imagination to reality at once, which is somewhat discordant and even out of place with the previous verses. In fact, it is this sentence that vividly shows how "I" is addicted to imagination, so that I take imagination as reality, and I am happy at the thought of flying to a distant place, and my parents are not at ease?

So I'll have to talk to them. This adds to the interest of the poem.

I want Gao Hongbo, I want to put small hands.

Resting on a peach tree branch.

With a bunch of buds (bāo), holding ten thousand rays of sunshine, 悠 (yōu) 呀, 悠——

Singing with a long voice.

I want to put my feet.

Attached to the roots of willow trees.

Reach into the wet and soft earth, draw (jí) to get sweet nourishment, long, long-

It grows into a green péng tent.

I want to put eyes.

Mounted on a kite.

Look at how soft the white clouds are (róu) and how bright the sun is

Blue skies are my classroom.

I want to put myself on my own.

Planted in the spring of the land.

It becomes a small grass, green and bright (huī), and a small flower, which blooms beautifully.

Becoming a catkins (xù) and dandelion is my greatest wish.

I'll fly, fly

Fly to distant places.

However, when flying to a distant place, you have to discuss ...... with your parents

I want to put my nose.

Settle in the buds.

Smell the flowers and enjoy the wonderful time.

Smell, smell

The scent brought me to sweet sleep.

I want to put eyes.

Mounted on white clouds.

Look at the beautiful clouds in the sky.

Look at the red sun at sunset.

Look at that! Look-

The view brought me into a fantastic fantasy!

I want to put my legs.

Settle on the sun.

Let the sun learn to walk and illuminate every corner of the world.

Let's go! Let's go

Fill the earth with light!

I want to put my ears.

Attach it to the fish.

Listen to the whispers of the fish, listen to what the sea has to say!

Listen! Listen-

The sea is my warm harbor.

I want to put my eyes on the seaweed and watch the goldfish blow away.

Watch octopuses hunt.

Look! Look-

The bottom of the sea is my amusement park.

I want to put eyes.

Mounted on the birds, look at the beauty of the earth, look at the smiles of children, look, look

See the beauty of the world in all its glory.

I want to put eyes.

Put it on the body of the little fish, look at the vast sea, look at the beauty of the sea, look, look-