I want to know why the grass is green and why the wind is always invisible.
Who taught birds to build nests, and who told trees to stand and rest?
When the moon is no longer full, where can I find the missing piece?
Who lit the sleeping stars? Make the stars twinkle?
Who painted colorful rainbows in the sky and hung those furry clouds so high?
comb
-Taiwan Province poet Xie
Mom combs my hair with a comb,
I also comb my mother's hair with a comb;
The wind is the comb of the tree, combing the hair of the tree.
firefly
Fireflies,
Holding a small lantern,
Flying around,
because
I don't know how to put lanterns.
Put it there,
So running around,
This tree is not good either,
That tree is not good either.
A poem dedicated to Children's Day on June 1st.
Buds are your years.
Wrapped in green leaves
Jiao zhi jiao
Like a smile in my sleep.
Spring is your festival.
Singing is full of your schoolbag.
Just take out a song and say it.
Jump, jump
Prosperity is your waiting.
When you can control the world.
Colorful dreams
Will come true with your creation.
Ah, you are the earliest festival of mankind.
It is also the most permanent expectation of mankind.
You are the earliest enlightenment of mankind.
This is the greatest hope of mankind.