The situation has reversed.
-william wordsworth
An evening scene with the same theme.
Get up. Get up. My friend, quit your book;
Or you must grow twice as long:
Get up. Get up. My friend, clean up your appearance;
Why is it so hard and troublesome?
The sun on the top of the mountain,
Fresh and mellow luster.
Through all the green fields,
His first sweet yellow night.
Books! This is a dull and endless struggle;
Come, listen to the woodland cardinals,
How sweet his music is! Swear on my life,
There is more wisdom in it.
Listen! How happy the throat sings!
He is not a stingy missionary;
Appear in the light of things,
Let nature be your teacher.
She has a lot of ready-made wealth,
Our thoughts and hearts bless-
Wisdom brought by health,
Happiness breathes the truth.
We come from the impact of the spring forest.
Might teach you more people,
The evil and the good of morality,
More than all saints.
The knowledge brought by nature is sweet;
Our wedding wisdom
Distort the beautiful form of things,-
We murder autopsies.
Enough science and art;
Put away those bare leaves;
Come out with a heart.
Watch and receive.
Desk, go away!
-Poop-poop
(Set the party on the same theme)
Get up! Get up! My friend, leave your book;
Otherwise, I'm sure you will become a hunchback;
Get up! Get up! My friend, clear your face;
Why is it full of hard work and confusion?
The sun went down,
The fresh luster is ripe.
The whole long green rice field spread.
Under the golden light of his first sweet sunset.
Books! This is a stupid and endless quarrel;
Come on, listen to the woodland cardinals,
What a beautiful song! With my life
Swear: How much wisdom there is!
Listen! What a brisk thrush song!
He is also called:
Come on, into the sun,
Let nature be your teacher.
He used the wealth prepared by the whole world,
The thoughts and hearts we pray for—
Enlightenment of wisdom breeds health,
Understanding the truth makes people happy.
A passion blooms in the trees in spring.
Can teach you more about human beings,
About moral evil and goodness,
Compared with all the teachings of homo sapiens.
Sweetness is the influence of nature;
Our interventionist wisdom.
Always distort the beautiful form of things wrongly,—
Distinguish everything like murder.
That's enough, those liberal arts;
Cover empty and boring pages;
Come on, take your heart.
A heart willing to observe and accept.
Poems written in early spring
-william wordsworth
I heard a thousand mixed notes.
When I was reclining in a small forest,
In that sweet mood, when happy thoughts
Let sad thoughts come to mind.
Nature links her beautiful works together.
Through my human soul,
I feel very sad when I think about this.
What humans have created.
Through the cherry grass, in the green pavilion,
Catharanthus roseus drags its wreath;
I believe that every flower.
Enjoy the air it breathes.
The birds around me hope and play;
They think: I can't measure-
But the smallest move they make
This seems to be an exciting pleasure.
The budding shoots spread their fans.
Catch the breeze;
I have to think, do my best,
There is happiness there.
If this belief from heaven is sent,
If this is nature's divine plan,
I have no reason to be sad?
What kind of people make people?
Poems learned in early spring
-Poop-poop
When I was lying in the Woods,
Heard a thousand mixed notes,
There is a surge of joy in that sweet mood
Rushed into my mind with sad thoughts.
Her perfect masterpiece "Nature" combines
The human soul is surging in my heart.
And thoughts that make my heart too sad.
What? People make people.
In the primrose, in the green pavilion,
Flowers in Changchun spread like garlands;
This makes me firmly believe that every flower
Everyone is happy to play with the air between breaths.
Jumping around my bird,
I can't guess what they are thinking,-
But at least judging from their behavior.
It feels like a happy passion.
The slender branches spread their fans.
Touch the air pouring like the wind.
I can imagine, try my best.
Where it will be in high spirits.
If this belief comes from heaven,
If this is like a sacred pattern presented by nature,
What reason do I have to lament?
What, man creates man?
I travel among strangers.
-william wordsworth
I travel among strangers,
On overseas land;
It's not England either Did I just know then?
How much I love you.
That melancholy dream is over!
I won't leave your shore either.
The second time; Until I look like
Love you more and more.
I feel it in your mountains
The happiness I long for;
My precious she turned her wheel.
By the bonfire in England.
Your morning is revealed and your night is hidden.
The gazebo where Lucy plays;
You are also the last green field.
Lucy's eyes examined.
I travel among strangers.
-Poop-poop
I travel among strangers.
On land far from the sea;
I didn't know this was England until.
I found out how much I love you.
In the past, that sad dream!
Will I leave your shore?
Once again; But I often find that
I love you more and more.
In Shan Lan, I clearly.
Feel the joy of longing;
I cherish her and turn the mast.
Leaning to a place, a bonfire in England.
You show in the morning and cover at night.
The villages where Lucy used to play;
Yours, the last piece of green land.
I was measured by Lucy's eyes.
Shakespeare's poems
Put it out, put it out, broken candle!
Life is just a silhouette of personal action, a poor actor.
He strutted on the stage and gradually disappeared.
Then we couldn't hear his voice.
This is an impassioned story.
But it makes no sense.
From Macbeth.
sonnet
Did you hang me with a shadow on purpose,
Open your eyes and face the boring night?
You want me to toss and turn,
That's the soul you sent,
Stay away from home and monitor my behavior,
When you find my waste and shame,
And the authority and scope to execute your jealousy?
Don't! Your love, though many, is not so great;
It is my love that makes me open my eyes.
It was my true feelings that broke my sleep,
Stay up all night for yourself!
I look at you, you wake up somewhere else,
Far behind me, but too close to others.
How can I compare you to summer?
You are cuter and gentler than it.
In May, there was a storm in Jiaolei.
Life expectancy in summer is very short.
Sometimes the sun shines in the sky.
Its luster often becomes blurred.
All the beauty will eventually disappear.
Suffering from the urging of operands and timing
Your eternal summer will never wither
Keep your beauty.
Death cannot boast that you step on its shadow.
Just because eternal music is with you in a spring.
Can anyone enjoy the music between heaven and earth?
If this poem spreads, it will teach you forever.
Responder: Hippo Chef-Magician Level 4 8- 16 2 1:30
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The birds around me hope and play;
They think: I can't measure-
But the smallest move they make
This seems to be an exciting pleasure.
The budding shoots spread their fans.
Catch the breeze;
I have to think, do my best,
There is happiness there.
If this belief from heaven is sent,
If this is nature's divine plan,
I have no reason to be sad?
What kind of people make people?
Poems learned in early spring
-Poop-poop
When I was lying in the Woods,
Heard a thousand mixed notes,
There is a surge of joy in that sweet mood
Rushed into my mind with sad thoughts.
Her perfect masterpiece "Nature" combines
The human soul is surging in my heart.
And thoughts that make my heart too sad.
What? People make people.
In the primrose, in the green pavilion,
Flowers in Changchun spread like garlands;
This makes me firmly believe that every flower
Everyone is happy to play with the air between breaths.
Jumping around my bird,
I can't guess what they are thinking,-
But at least judging from their behavior.
It feels like a happy passion.
The slender branches spread their fans.
Touch the air pouring like the wind.
I can imagine, try my best.
Where it will be in high spirits.
If this belief comes from heaven,
If this is like a sacred pattern presented by nature,
What reason do I have to lament?
What, man creates man?
I travel among strangers.
-william wordsworth
I travel among strangers,
On overseas land;
It's not England either Did I just know then?
How much I love you.
That melancholy dream is over!
I won't leave your shore either.
The second time; Until I look like
Love you more and more.
I feel it in your mountains
The happiness I long for;
My precious she turned her wheel.
By the bonfire in England.
Your morning is revealed and your night is hidden.
The gazebo where Lucy plays;
You are also the last green field.
Lucy's eyes examined.
I travel among strangers.
-Poop-poop
I travel among strangers.
On land far from the sea;
I didn't know this was England until.
I found out how much I love you.
In the past, that sad dream!
Will I leave your shore?
Once again; But I often find that
I love you more and more.
In Shan Lan, I clearly.
Feel the joy of longing;
I cherish her and turn the mast.
Leaning to a place, a bonfire in England.
You show in the morning and cover at night.
The villages where Lucy used to play;
Yours, the last piece of green land.
I was measured by Lucy's eyes.