Thank the teacher for his ancient poems.

Xu Hun sent the monk to Jinshan Temple.

When you return to Jiang Shang Temple, you will never forget the kindness of your old teacher. In tin, every mountain view, stop at the cup to see the wave marks.

Tao Qiu swallowed Chu Yi and Xiao Yue went to Jingmen. In order to visit the poetry department, the word "raspberry moss" was left.

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I met her a long time ago, but it has been longer since we broke up.

From the east wind, a hundred flowers blossom.

Silkworms in spring weave until they die,

Every night, the candle will cry dry the wick.

In the morning, she saw her hair cloud changing in the mirror.

However, she bravely faced the cold moonlight with her evening song.

There are not many roads to Pengshan.

Oh, Bluebird, please go there and look at me.

Praise the teacher.

I remember your hands were covered with powder.

I remember your kind teaching.

I remember your new silver hair.

Because of you, many students can become talents.

Because of you, the world will be so civilized

Teacher, you are a bright light.

Find a home for the lost children

Teacher, you are an angel.

September, dedicated to the teacher.

September, as scheduled.

Therefore, the world is brilliant.

We sing September,

Because this is your eternal festival.

We remember September,

Because this is our sincere confession.

September is an emotional cup,

We hold it high with our hands.

In sincere wishes,

Please drink.

September music has been played,

Please accept our gift in September.

All the teachers who are struggling on the education front.

Ode to teachers

Others get gold from life.

You can only get flowers.

Your gold is the morning sun.

Your silver is the moon of the fifteenth.

But you still whistle happily.

Your pride is the fragrance of peaches and plums

Poetry article celebrating Teachers' Day-Thank you for your hard work, teacher.

Who-led the ignorant us into the spacious classroom,

Teach us a wealth of knowledge?

It is you! Teacher!

With your hard work and sweat,

Raising the tender seedlings that have just broken ground in spring.

Who is it?-naughty us.

Educate people to be considerate and helpful?

It is you! Teacher!

Your care is like a warm spring breeze.

It warms our hearts.

Who is it-young us?

Cultivate a mature and sensible teenager?

It is you! Teacher!

Your protection makes us grow up healthily.

The autumn season is fruitful.

You have worked hard! Teacher!

People who work hard in the heat and cold.

You have worked hard! Teacher!

Dedicate youth to nothingness.

We pay high tribute to you!

-You have worked hard, teacher!

That's all I can do, teacher.

Teacher-you are like a drizzle in spring,

Moisten flowers, irrigate the earth,

We are sucking the drizzle and growing.

Teacher-you are like the autumn breeze,

Blow the yellow land, call gold to rice,

We had a bumper harvest.

Teacher-in my dark life, you lit the brightest lamp for me;

Teacher-you are the guide on my misty life;

Teacher-you pointed out the direction for me in my rough life;

Teacher-you gave me a pair of powerful wings, let me travel in the world of knowledge!

You present a flower,

I present a flower,

Let's weave a big wreath,

Dedicated to my dear teacher and mother.

You gave the seeds,

As warm as the sun;

You sweat,

Water the seedlings.

Your eyes are like bright stars,

Shining with charming brilliance;

Your song is like a spring stream,

Brought joy to everyone.

Wherever we go,

Always remember your feelings;

No matter where we go.

Always remember your words.

Wherever we go,

Always remember your love;

Wherever we go,

Will always be a flower of yours.

The golden wind sends laughter, and the sweet-scented osmanthus floats.

Today's teacher's holiday is coming again.

Teachers have worked hard for our growth.

We will never forget the teacher's love for us.

Hello, teacher!

People compare teachers to red candles, which illuminate others and burn themselves.

People compare teachers to gardeners and cultivate peaches and plums all over the world.

Teachers are the noblest career in the world.

The teacher gave us ideal sunshine and wisdom sunshine.

The teacher guided us to the path of sunny life.

Teachers expect us to be the sun in the new century.

The teacher's words moisten my heart like spring rain.

The teacher watered our growth with the rain of knowledge.

Gentle spring rain is the teacher's love for us.

The teacher's words and deeds are like spring rain.

The teacher is willing to be a green leaf and hold us up as red flowers.

The teacher is a green leaf, willing to contribute silently.

The green leaves symbolize that teachers are always young.

When we bloom like flowers, we will never forget the kindness of green leaves.

Teachers are like trees, with blue sky overhead and feet on the earth, silently benefiting the society.

Teachers are big trees, bringing spring scenery to the world.

The teacher sowed the seeds of hope and cultivated us into a forest.

Young trees grow into pillars, never forgetting the gardener's cultivation.

Yes, teachers' enthusiasm is like the sun, and teachers' teaching is like spring rain.

Teachers' style is like green leaves, teachers' occupation is like a tree, and our teachers are good.

Thank you, teacher

How many seasonal cycles,

How many seasons?

You are a red candle burning with bright life,

You spread the fire of wisdom with true feelings.

Thank you, teacher.

You are the morning star at night.

You are the clear sky during the day.

You are a breeze under the scorching sun.

You are the eaves in the rain.

You are the sea;

You are mountains and rivers.

You have shaped my soul.

You are a rocket carrying a satellite.

You are a compass at sea.

You're, like, into it,

You pay.

You are our most beloved teacher.

You taught us that "learning without thinking is useless, thinking without learning is dangerous".

You taught us that "mins are eager to learn and are not ashamed to ask questions."

You taught us "don't do small good, don't do small evil".

You taught us "Don't do to others what you don't want others to do to you".

You teach us knowledge and learn to be a man.

Teacher, it is you who hold up our tomorrow with your arms.

I want to say "thank you!" "

We want to say, "Thank you, teacher!" "

Just like the spring silkworm gave her lifelong loyalty,

Just like Dong Mei singing the song of early spring.

How many sleepless nights,

In the long night, you sit at your desk.

Years of cold and summer,

You are busy on the three-foot platform.

Hair is added between green hair.

You use love,

Shorten the distance between heart and heart.

You were melted by the sun, Leng Xue,

Lead us into the hall of science.

Glorious teachers!

We thank you!

What is a teacher like?

Teachers are like red candles,

Illuminate the path of knowledge.

Teachers are like spring rain,

Spread fragmentary knowledge.

Teachers are like gardeners,

Cultivate young us into a big tree.

A teacher is like a golden key.

Lead the ignorant into the treasure house of knowledge.

Teachers are more like our mothers,

Stay with us every day.

Teach us rich and colorful knowledge.

Your hands are covered with powder;

Your charitable teaching;

Your new silver hair;

One by one,

The hardships of cultivating students.

Teacher, you are a bright light.

For us who are lost,

Find your way home.

We sing,

We raise our sincere glasses,

With sincere feelings.

Blessing!

Teacher, please drink a toast.

Please accept our gift.

My dear teacher.

Thank you, teacher.

You brought ignorant us into the classroom,

Teach us a wealth of knowledge.

With your hard work and sweat,

Feeding the buds that have just broken ground in spring.

You put naughty us,

Educate people who can help others.

Teacher, you put young us,

Cultivate mature and sensible teenagers;

You warmed our hearts,

Your protection makes us grow up healthily.

Teacher, you have worked hard.

We pay high tribute to you!

Bloom was full of stars that night, but I didn't look closely.

Now that the flowers are falling in bloom and the stars are still shining, I regret it.

The wind is thin, the rain is dancing, and the fragrance is red.

Lost and attached, I waited for bloom in my dream.

Suddenly began to miss bloom.

Pink cherry blossoms, blue gentian, purple lavender, from near to far, have been extended to the end of the distant sky.

I am a lonely child, along this thin road,

Smelling the flowers, longing for the shadow behind him.

Overhead is the splendor of cherry blossoms flying all over the sky, and at hand is the sadness of quiet gentian.

Beside me is the gentleness of lavender, and I am like a butterfly, lost here.

Red flies over the swing, making the curtains light and cold.

I only feel that I am leaning against a dangerous building, and the wind is singing carefully.

I can't remember when I met bloom, but I vaguely remember that the gorgeous color extends to the horizon.

Bloom is so beautiful!

I am like a pilgrim, facing the flowers devoutly, closing my eyes, putting my hands together and washing my soul.

I heard the flowers laughing, laughing so happily that the laughter was as sweet as a silver bell.

Childhood is childhood!

That immature me, that I stopped under the dim street lamp, that I was pleasantly surprised in the rain, waiting to come back again.

I am a child walking alone.

I forgot the thin road under my feet, yearned for the fragrance of flowers, and fell in love with the shadow behind me.

Count the knots on the rope, every day.

The shadow of time is reflected on the wall with a faint yellow color.

It is the yellow of old photos, the yellow of old book pages, and the yellow engraved with childhood.

The footprints of time are left on the wall, and childhood is left on the stone steps at the feet, which can never come back.

I am a butterfly, lost in the sky, flying quietly.

Who is leading me to fly in the wind? These hands are so warm.

Who leads me to fly in the rain? This voice is so gentle.

Who is it, who makes me so attached and unwilling to fly again?

I am a butterfly lost in time, flapping its wings and looking up gently.

Forget the spring flowers, forget the summer tide.

I can't fly across the sea, I can't wait for mulberry fields, I can't hear the splash of spring.

In time and memory, I forgot the way and deviated from the navigation mark.

Bloom, the door is open.

The ear is a melody that has long been forgotten.

The wind is blowing, wrinkling a pool of spring water and dancing a piece of wheat straw.

The sun shines warmly and I fly happily.

The flowers are drunk, the door is asleep, and the moonlight is flowing.

The string is broken, the song is broken, who listens?

Standing hurts, who mourns with words?

The stars reached out and I struggled to fly.

The flowers are not finished, the door is closed, and the kite is hovering by the cloud.

After drinking all the wine in Zhongshan, I suddenly looked back and saw that Huayang had gone without a trace.

It's the geese coming home again. I'm waiting for Qinghong.

But I don't know who I'm thinking about, flying in confusion.

It was the rain, the gurgling rain, which wet the door.

It's raining, and the falling rain makes the flowers fly.

The rain broke through the lake in a low voice, and I couldn't fly.

Will not miss, no longer miss, the sleeping lotus pond. Let the wind blow, I can't catch up.

I am a butterfly lost in the starry sky, covered with faint starlight, and I can't forget my sadness.

See the moon dim and incomplete, see the moon pull into a full string, see the moon hanging alone in the treetops, and see the moon sink into the sea to shake feelings.

I wander in the starry sky, eager to be my true self, and refuse the worldly sitcom.

Starlight can't dispel my sadness.

Night always comes and goes quietly.

The eyes only see the results, but they can't see that they are always in the process.

Stars bloom like flowers, penetrating layers of fog.

Autumn frost flies late, so it can't hide its smile.

A little cold can't erase the silence of its sleepless nights.

The stars are in full bloom in the sky, and all kinds of colors come together. Although they are not eternal, they are also long-lasting.

They were born in peace, died in glory, and bloomed all their lives.

Stars wander like flowers and fly with the wind.

At the horizon, the road deviated from the predetermined direction.

Gradually drifting away, drifting away, the angle remains the same, but it has long been far from the end.

As time goes on, many people appear in sight, and many people gradually disappear.

I look up at the sky and the stars are still smiling. I lost myself under the starry sky, thinking about the songs I once sang.

The stars are as sad as flowers, quietly burying their worries.

Tears blurred the light of stars and the fragrance of flowers.

There are more and more clouds, and the air seems to be full of salty moisture.

The moon also hid in the clouds.

The light in the sky falls quietly,

Crystal clear, fleeting, like a beautiful smile, but also like a tear.

Goodbye, goodbye, lotus in the sky!

Starlight faded, dawn came, and I was lonely again.

It's rain, it's rain, it dissolves the silver sand under the moon.

It's rain, it's rain, the stars are scattered.

The falling rain, time flies, was drunk by him!

The meteor, like a small white boat, cut the moon and scratched the flowers.

I am a butterfly lost in a dream, sinking in the sunset, waiting for the train that has long gone.

Float lightly in the crystal clear water, looking for flowers dissolved in the water.

I can't fly. I imagine the flowers in the sky under the starry sky.

Maybe tomorrow, I will be the most beautiful flower in the lake and have a blue dream in the blue lake.

Dream, dream! Time abandoned me and hurried forward; The meteor abandoned me and disappeared in an instant.

I wandered at the intersection, watching the cars coming and going, and I was at a loss.

Childhood, which is gone forever, is like the rain of cherry blossoms, which is heartbreaking.

The sunshine of youth is so pale in front of it.

This is a dream! This is a dream!

Forget the changes of seasons, forget the vicissitudes of life, indulge in the night sky and don't want to wake up.

On the rainy street, Huayang flew away, soaking the fragments of missing and breaking the strings of memory.

Gentiana is still in bloom, and on both sides of the Galaxy Railway, it is as simple and brilliant as a star.

Dream, dream!

Now I know the taste of sadness, I want to say, but I want to say, but I'm sorry, the flowers are not in autumn!

Let the lavender color spread in the palm of your hand, so confused in front of the door.

I don't have the courage to push open the half-opened door. Guess the eternity behind the door and lock all yesterday.

It's rain, misty rain, which leads me into the flowers.

It was rain, misty rain, which washed away all the flowers.

The rain sounded, leaving me with flowers all over the floor.

A little blue on the cheek is frost on the strings.

I am a lonely child, walking along this thin road to the end of the sky.

Miss the flowers in the sleeves and cherish the past covered by shadows behind you.

I am a lost butterfly. The strings are broken, and my tears are like cymbals; The rain tinkled, but I couldn't hear it.

How deep is the yard? Silent and empty.

The flowers have fallen, the rain has stopped and the sky is still so blue.

The door is closed, the star is dark, and the knot is yellow.

Wake up, dream broken, once fragrant,

Not anymore, not anymore.

I am an ignorant child, stopping in the dim light and looking at the horizon.

I'm waiting for Bloom. I won't run away from Huacan.

I am an ignorant butterfly, struggling to the end of the horizon in the rain.

I'm looking for bloom. I won't run away from failure.

Bloom flowers fall from time to time.

I just have no choice but to spend time dreaming and sigh.

I don't need bees and butterflies, I don't need flowers to turn into honey, I just want to fly to the end of the day with flowers.

After all, where is Xiangshan?

Outside the window, the flowers are dancing freely, just like in a dream, the rain is falling and drifting aimlessly, like melancholy.

There is no way for the geese to cross, and Ran Ran flies down Tingzhou.

Is it better to know nothing than nothing?

Are ignorant people happier than wise men and sages? I don't know.

Adults lose their little happiness, pursue worldly fame and forget to bloom.

They accuse us of living in a non-existent world all day.

I just replied faintly, "At least I'm being myself."

Live in the world with your true self and have a clear conscience.

Adults don't understand children.

Live like a child, not for arrogance, but for being yourself.

The night gave me black eyes, and I want to see the light with them.

Time has given each of us a sunset once a day, and how many people stop?

Live like a child.

This is not so much an illusory dream,

On the contrary, it was a helpless dream.

A nightmare that people can't extricate themselves!

Flowers bloom in dreams, and I wait for geese in childhood.

Why can't you go back when you grow up?

Why are "human feelings" often full of hypocrisy and numbness?

Why can't I get rid of the shackles like a child, Wan Li with the wind, and find that fragrance again?

It's a flower in a dream, and I'm waiting for my childhood to come back.

Golden light is in my heart, and I follow my memory to find flowers.

But the door of time has long been locked, and I have lost the fleeting years.

So helpless, so unwilling, but unable to change

Flowers will bloom again, but childhood will not come again. I looked at the horizon and stubbornly waited for the door to open again.

Even if that day never comes. When can I see Bloom again?

Looking at the gorgeous colors that extend to the end of the distant sky, I fall in love with the past covered by shadows behind me.

I miss bloom all the time! The wind messed up my hair and mixed it with flowers.

What time are you coming back? What time are you coming back? Tears ask flowers silently, and red flies over the swing.

How could I forget? How could I forget? Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.

Just wait for the flowers to bloom in the dream, let the butterfly fly out of the sea, and the powerless wings dissipate in the haze of the world.

Just wait for the dream to blossom, even if the wild geese fall in the sky, cold tears will cover the pale cheeks.

Bloom is gone, unfinished dream, full of stars.

Flowers fall, dreams wake up, and stars are still there. Heartbroken, choked with tears, unwilling to wake up.

I waited for bloom in my dream.

As long as you wait, your dreams will bloom. ...