You are standing on the bridge watching the scenery,

The people watching the scenery are watching you upstairs.

The bright moon decorated your window,

You decorated other people's dreams.

After the rain

Author: Xi Murong

Life can actually be a poem

If you can let me move forward slowly

Quietly looking forward to searching

With the deepening dusk in my arms

Through the unknown mud

In the dark clouds

I finally shed tears for all the encounters that I

missed or didn't miss.

If you are willing to wait

all the floating clouds

will eventually converge into a river

Rain Lane-Dai Wangshu

Rain Lane

is holding an oil-paper umbrella and wandering alone

like a long, long

lonely rain lane, < p

She has

Ding Xiang's beauty,

Ding Xiang's fragrance,

Ding Xiang's sorrow,

Mourning in the rain,

Mourning and complaining seems to be lost;

She seems to wander in this lonely rain lane,

holding an oil-paper umbrella

like me,

walking silently like me,

cold and desert,

sad and melancholy.

She approached

silently, and cast

eyes like a sigh of relief.

She floated

like a dream,

like a dream.

It's like a dream floating through

a small fragrant field,

this female lang floats by my side;

She walked away quietly, far away,

to the crumbling fence wall,

to walk through the rainy lane.

In the sad song of the rain,

her face faded,

her fragrance dispersed,

dispersed, and even her eyes were

sighing,

melancholy like Ding Xiang.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, I

wander alone in a long, long and lonely rain lane.

I hope to float past

an aunt with a sweet smell

and a sad feeling.

Shu ting's < < To Oak Tree > >

if I love you-/I will never learn to climb the campbell flower,/I will show off myself with your high branches;

/ If I love you-/Never learn from spoony birds,/Repeat monotonous songs for the shade;

/ It's not just like a fountain/bringing cool comfort all the year round; /it's not just like a dangerous peak,

/ increase your height,/set off your dignity. /Even sunshine/even spring rain

/ No, these are not enough/I must be a kapok near you,

/ Stand with you as the image of a tree. /root, clasped in the ground;

/ leaves, touching in the clouds. /Every time a gust of wind blows, we greet each other,

/ But no one understands our words/You have your copper branches and iron stems,

/ Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd; /I have my red flowers,/like a heavy sigh,

/ like a heroic torch/we share the cold wave, thunder and lightning;

/ We * * * enjoy the mist and rainbow; /It seems that we are separated forever, but we are dependent on each other for life

/ This is great love,/Faithfulness is here/Love/Not only your stalwart body,

/ But also your persistent position,/The land under your feet.

Author: Yu Guangzhong

Works: Listening to the night in the mountains

Content:

It's always late at night in the mountains

Everything is like a dream

What is more pleasant to listen to than thorough silence

?

No matter how long and busy the history is, there will always be such a moment

that there is no need to argue, right?

but what about the wind? Did you say

wind? It was a little bit caused by the passage of time

, and occasionally

a little bit echoed

Dai Wangshu's "I use the damaged palm"

I groped for this vast land with the damaged palm:

This corner has turned to ashes,

That corner is just blood and mud? nbsp;

This lake should be my hometown.

(In spring, there are many flowers on the embankment, and

the tender willow branches are broken with strange fragrance.)

I touch the algae and the cool water.

The snow peaks in Changbai Mountain are freezing cold,

The water and sediment in the Yellow River slip out between your fingers;

The paddy fields in the south of the Yangtze River are so soft ... Now there is only Artemisia scoparia;

Litchi flowers in Lingnan languish in loneliness.

After that, I dipped in the bitter water of the South China Sea without fishing boats ...

Invisible palms swept across the rivers and mountains without hatred.

My fingers were stained with blood and ash, and my palms were stained with darkness.

Only the distant corner was still intact.

It was warm, bright, firm and vigorous.

on it, I stroked it with my damaged palm,

like a lover's soft hair and a baby's milk in his hand.

I put all my strength on the palm of my hand

and put it on it, sending love and all hope,

because there is only the sun, it is spring,

it will drive out the gloom and bring Su Sheng,

because there is only one place where we don't live like animals,

and ants die ... there, eternal China!

Shu Ting's "Motherland, My Dear Motherland"

I am a worn-out old waterwheel beside your river

I have been spinning tired songs for hundreds of years;

I am a miner's lamp blackened on your forehead,

As you grope in the tunnel of history;

I am a withered ear of rice; It is a disrepair subgrade;

It is the barge on the silt beach that

pulls the rope deep

into your shoulder;

-the motherland!

I am poor,

I am sad.

I am

the painful hope of your ancestors,

a flower that has not fallen to the ground for thousands of years.

-the motherland!

I am your brand-new ideal,

I just broke free from the spider web of myth;

I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow;

I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging;

I am the newly painted white starting line;

It's the crimson dawn

spreading;

-the motherland!

I am one billionth of you

I am the sum of your 9.6 million square meters;

You

fed

me confused, thoughtful and boiling with scarred breasts;

Then get

yours from my flesh and blood; Richness, your glory, your freedom;

-motherland,

my dear motherland!

Paper Boat

I used to fold many paper boats for entertainment

and put them in a dead pool with no way out

No complaints

I still fold paper boats now

In the lonely night

I prepare a warm harbor for them

No complaints

I have no way out. Generation >

Gu Cheng

Night gave me black eyes,

but I used them to look for light.

Farewell to Cambridge

(Xu Zhimo)

I left gently, just as I came gently;

I gently waved to bid farewell to the clouds in the western sky.

The golden willow by the river is the bride in the sunset;

The colourful shadows in the waves are rippling in my heart.

The green grass on the soft mud is swaying under the water.

In the gentle waves of the Kanghe River, I am willing to be an aquatic plant.

That pool under the shade of elm is not a clear spring, but a rainbow in the sky;

Crushed among the floating algae, a rainbow-like dream is precipitated.

Looking for a dream? Support a long pole and wander back to the greener place of the grass;

A boat full of starlight, singing in the splendor of starlight.

But I can't sing, quietly is a farewell flute;

Summer insects are silent for me, and silence is Cambridge tonight.

I left quietly, just as I came quietly;

I waved my sleeve, Don't take away a cloud.

This sentence

(Ye Zhixiang)

the wind and the sail

struggle

is about to prove that

this sentence is tearing the heart

the clouds and the moon

are hiding

maybe they are worried about saying

this sentence quietly

whether the waves and the rocks

are wrestling

seeking all opportunities

. I

want to repeat this sentence for a thousand times

, but I

dare not

once, because the pure land and the paradise road are far away

heaven and hell for an instant

"Answer" Author: Kitajima

"Despicability is the passport of the despicable,

nobility is the epitaph of the noble.

Look, in the gilded sky,

the crooked reflection of the dead is floating. "

"The ice age has passed,

Why is there ice everywhere?

The Cape of Good Hope has been discovered.

Why do Qian Fan compete in the Dead Sea? "

"We came into this world,

with only paper, ropes and figures,

in order to read out the condemned voice before the trial:"

"Tell you the truth, world,

I-don't-believe!

Even if there are a thousand challengers under your feet,

then count me as the 11st. "

"I don't believe that the sky is blue,

I don't believe that thunder echoes,

I don't believe that dreams are false,

I don't believe that there is no retribution for death."

"If the ocean is destined to burst its banks,

let all the bitter water pour into my heart;

If the land is destined to rise,

let human beings choose the peak of survival again. "

"New turning points and shining stars,

are filling the open sky;

It's a hieroglyph for 5, years,

It's the eyes that future human beings will stare at! "

< Believe in the future >

-forefinger

When cobwebs mercilessly closed my stove,

When the smoke of ashes sighed with poverty,

I still stubbornly paved the ashes of disappointment,

I wrote with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future.

When my purple grapes turn into dew in late autumn,

When my flowers snuggle up to other people's feelings,

I still stubbornly use the condensed withered vines to write on the desolate land: Believe in the future.

I want to wave with my fingers,

I want to hold the sun with my palm,

I want to write with my child's pen: Believe in the future.

I firmly believe in the future,

because I believe in people's eyes in the future-

She has eyelashes to brush away the dust of history,

She has pupils to see through the chapters of the years.

No matter what people think of our rotting flesh,

those lost accounts, the pain of failure,

whether they send moved tears and deep sympathy,

they still give contemptuous smiles and bitter taunts.

I firmly believe that people will give a warm, objective and fair evaluation of our spine,

the countless explorations, strays, failures and successes.

Yes, I am anxiously waiting for their evaluation.

friends, firmly believe in the future,

believe in indomitable efforts,

believe in the young who overcome death,

believe in the future and love life.