Modern Poetry Describing Rural Pastoral 1 Memories of summer village
Moldy straw hat
Wear it on your white head.
Miss the master of the country
A rickety crutch
Hidden in the cracks of the years
Recall the familiar shadow
Summer country
Harvest again and again.
memory
That straw hat is very old.
until one day
Hanging in the corner
Take out the crutch behind the door
Wipe and wipe
Ask on crutches
Am I getting old, too
My eyes are moist.
I think of my grandfather. ...
afield
Working father
Modern Poetry Describing Pastoral Poetry
Living in your corner, we are a group of quiet cattle and sheep. Following the season, under the sky, wandering at four o'clock.
Walking on the edge of some crops, sunshine, strolling to the color of chewing grass.
In a yearning, put your feet into the soil.
Many crops, like us, have struggled on the ground all their lives.
However, this land is spreading from the original grassland according to the instructions of the monsoon. Growing on a pile of dry loess, several plants are ashamed to talk about water.
Since it is underground, it will not dry up for thousands of years. This is the same lifeline.
Facing the land, our forehead covered under the sky has been shaped into a complex terrain by years.
Some crops are beginning to take root. ...
Three modern poems describing rural pastoral areas
I would like to live in the depths of this wheat field forever, with those little jumping frogs. Full of dreams and enthusiasm, the pond in the country is full; Full of songs for the earth under your feet and neighboring villagers.
In the sound of day and night, in the rings of spring and autumn, I watched it with tears for decades. Excited for a new green, sad for some innocent injuries. Tears in the pain in the depths of the family.
These memories of every grass and tree have precipitated into troubles that I can't get rid of all my life in the ups and downs of the season.
The land reclaimed by ancestors will not always be a fragmented ballad, a dream lacking in content. Let me take root in this barren land; Let me plant rich lotus flowers in this barren water; Let my exciting song penetrate the heavy wind and rain to reach the future light!
Modern poems describing rural pastoral areas. Country wind
Always miss the wind in the country.
The wind in the country, like newly woven silk, filled the village, covered the fields, brushed the smoke gently and subdued the sky; The wind in the countryside gave the old times a chastity glow. The wind is surging with the ungrateful desire for thousands of years, combing the ebb and flow of desires and lighting up the years full of wrinkles.
The wind from the countryside blows from the top of the season, like a jade belt, setting off the sky, mountains, villages and fields in peace. The wind in the countryside is an eternal lamp, which will make just visiting's sight longer and longer.
The wind blows away the old days, and along the way, all the dust falls and the village is cleaned; Play and sing higher dreams above the maturity of grain.
Praise the wind from the sky and the countryside.
I miss the wind in the country. Is it only the wind in the country that is so pure, and youth makes people feel anxious and painful? ...
Modern poems describing rural pastoral 5 I heard that it snowed in my hometown.
In my dream, my cell phone suddenly rang.
You said it snowed in my hometown,
I think of you.
Snowflakes are light and white angels,
Elegant flowers fall,
Just dance the charm of the romantic world.
You are a flying snowflake,
Never drifted away for forty years.
/
On a snowy winter night that year,
On the educated youth farm,
Snowflakes rustle outside the quiet window,
The light reflects the delicate and charming you,
You lean against the window lattice, have jade teeth and red lips, and smile sweetly.
Look at the way I write poetry,
Inspired my peaceful heart pool.
/
The next morning, in the snow,
In the silent sunshine,
Leave beautiful footprints outside the window,
A fragrant wintersweet bloomed on the windowsill.
I'm amazing and stupid,
Sorry, my heart,
There are no gentle ripples.
/
At that time, it was not that I didn't understand you,
It's just snow all over the sky.
The ice is blocked,
A sign of the ocean of love.
You, a piece of white and delicate snow,
With Mulan's purity,
Elegant youth is full of vitality.
But in the end, I still didn't escape that dirty hand.
Dirt you into a pool of mud.
/
I remember on the small building in the boring village,
You stand alone in the snow,
Wave goodbye gently,
Carve it into an unforgettable memory.
Who says it won't bloom in winter?
Isn't snowflake the most beautiful flower?
Snow embraces red beans, which is cold outside and hot inside.
Before spring comes, you are lonely and far away.
/
Tonight, I'm alone in the south,
Knowing that it is snowing in my hometown,
Snowflakes fall rustling,
Touched my feelings.
She's soft and plump,
I think of the past again,
Your fragrant breath still surrounds you,
That romantic snowy night,
Pure snowflakes are still frozen in my heart.
Modern poem 6 "Sleeping Country" describes rural pastoral.
Golden warm sunshine
Slant through the window
Take a casual look
It stung my eyes deeply
give no quarter
Dead branches and leaves
Along with the split tree.
It was plated with a layer of Phnom Penh by this golden sunshine.
illuminant
There is no bleak scene in winter at all.
The snow on the roadside has melted.
wet
Get mud all over the floor
There is an occasional black and white magpie in the distance.
Fly to a nearby branch
Slowly descend
Lift your tail and keep your balance.
A low cry echoed in my ear.
The echo of the silent countryside
The sunshine in the afternoon is still so dazzling.
The sun seems to be setting in the southern sky.
The earth no longer rotates.
I looked up silently.
Look at that dazzling light source.
Let the bright sunshine sting your eyes.
And I'm not shy.
In the Woods at the head of the village
I don't know when all the leaves have fallen.
Only bare branches are left.
In the mud
Near-rotten fallen leaves
quiet
Filled the whole country
It is also full of my lonely heart.
Nuoda village
It seems that I am the only one left.
So it also became
Unusually quiet
It's terribly quiet.
Modern poems describing rural pastoral 7 The countryside has lost weight.
Mother wrote after the Spring Festival
The countryside has lost weight.
The swallow in March didn't come back.
Apricot flowers are not in full bloom in April.
Grandfather's cattle didn't go to the fields.
The grass on the ground can never be eaten.
Mother said that the old well at the eastern end of the village
No one has played with water for a long time.
Those old houses at the west exit of the village
No one has lived in it for years.
The threshing floor beside the plateau
It is covered with weeds that are more than one person tall.
Mom says the country has lost weight.
In recent years,
Someone fell into the coffin and fell to the ground.
Someone packed their bags and mixed into the city.
Leave some people to watch the wheat fields.
Mother said that the stupid two dog was taken to Xi 'an.
Lost direction never came home.
Heiwa worked for two years and brought back a foreign girl.
Divorced from his wife Tian at home.
Newly married second cousin
Give birth to a city baby and bring your daughter-in-law with you.
Shenzhen, which has lived for many years, is preparing for this.
Mother said at dusk
She saw the lonely figure of the old man.
Hear the child's childish cry.
feel
The countryside has really lost weight
Modern Poetry Describing Rural Pastoral 8 Rural Areas in Xia Yue
The countryside is beautiful,
The green garden is very busy.
Picked two baskets full,
Go home and fill the big refrigerator.
Persimmon yellow powder is full of seedlings,
When it matures, it lands on the ground.
The nutritional value is very high,
You can stir-fry and make soup.
Cucumber grows green and long.
Like a stick full of seedlings.
Take it off and taste it yourself.
Quench thirst and avoid getting fat.
Wearing a flowery waist and a gun on his head,
As majestic as standing guard.
The gold teeth are arranged neatly,
I am the first in nutrition.
Beans are covered with bean sprouts,
Hang a knife on your body.
Climb over the frame, climb over the wall,
Stewed meat and powder are delicious.
Purple stems, purple leaves and purple flowers,
Purple flowers fall and bear purple fruits.
Sesame seeds are hidden in purple fruits.
That's eggplant hanging on the seedling.
It's green over there,
It used to be two ridges of green onions.
Eat leaves in summer and roots in winter,
Give yourself to people.
Potatoes are hidden in the middle of the soil,
Not as ostentatious as others.
Unity is really strong,
One hundred dishes with one hundred dishes.
The countryside in Xia Yue is great,
The earth is covered with colorful clothes.
Raise outstanding Chinese sons and daughters,
I suggest you take care of our land.
Modern poetry describing rural pastoral 9 rural memory
Childhood memory
Always in the beautiful countryside.
There's still no downplay.
But it blurs whose innocent smiling face.
A girl who jumps on a rubber band.
Always wearing a tall ponytail.
Like a butterfly in a skirt
Dance among the flowers
A shallow hole not far away
It's a paradise for boys.
Count the marbles in your hand.
Why did you lose a few dollars?
A girl's wish
All nailed to the red line on the wrist.
Obsessed with the love of dreams
I have buried my heart in it.
Shy mood
How to enter the hearts of boys
In the summer of development.
They have always liked lobster.
A talkative sparrow
Wake up every sunny day.
The most disorganized music in this song.
Than a thousand words in music.
Smoke from the kitchen by the pond
Vague leisure
Who invented curly hair?
Praise for two thousand years.
The story of that season
It is the most beautiful poem.
I don't know if you ever thought about it.
On that day of that year.
Modern poetry describing rural pastoral 10 rural night
night ......
This beautiful little village gradually quieted down.
And my heart is always in turmoil.
Just looking at everything here in a trance.
Think of distant relatives.
Guess how life will start tomorrow.
Sit quietly.
Silently look at the phone and giggle.
I seem to forget that I came to relax.
Lost like a lost child.
Like an angel without wings
Missing is bitter
It's often so hard to extricate yourself.
It's hard to sleep
The beauty of the night passed away quietly.
It's not the distance.
And I feel weak.
My heart will always be at home.
But the night is always quiet.
Pity my strong appearance.
And how fragile the heart is.
Maybe I'm still a child at heart.
Leave home, leave the people you love.
Like a kite with a broken thread
Wandering aimlessly in the air
The night in the country is so quiet that people feel panic.
It's a deep winter night.
Everyone slept soundly.
Say to yourself in your heart
It is late at night. Go to sleep.
Wherever you are, you should learn to take care of yourself.
Get used to it if you're not used to it.
There will always be a time to leave home.
Only by lighting the lamp in your heart
Will make your life go further.