Nostalgic modern poetry

Nostalgic modern poetry 1 nostalgia for distant childhood.

Miss the impulse to leave the world.

As sacred as a temple

As pure as a little flower in Shan Ye.

Like a breeze in the sky.

//

Lovely grass, green crops

Stretch out their soft arms

Dance, sing or smile often.

I am excited inside, but I can't name them.

Maybe they never noticed me either.

//

You walked into my heart, but I became a darling.

Like loyalty in my veins

Like this kindness that fills my mind.

My childhood, you know.

How grateful I am for this miss you gave me.

//

Please forgive me when I was a child.

I can't name you.

But my deep understanding of you

Beyond my deep understanding of the world.

At that time, although I was weak, I understood the majesty of your breath.

//

The rustle and sound of you flowing in the Woods

Cultivate my impetuous heart.

Shocked my blue eyes.

Please believe me, I will be in the flowers and plants.

Or brilliant or calm and kind.

Missing modern poetry in one night 2

In the distant starry sky

I dreamed of my father's smile.

A smile flashes the light of the past.

The figure was vaguely hidden in the darkness.

Empty darkness is as warm as cotton.

My dream of wandering around

Father's familiar movements

Like a flag floating with the soul

The croak of frogs on the water.

The real world.

Take on a man's stubborn skin

I've kept weeds by the fence all my life.

Facing my father

There is a blank in the sky.

There is a grafted self between them.

Every habitual action of my father.

Very accurately embedded in my behavior and words.

Clear eyes, blood flowing quietly in my veins.

Father, there is a feeling of mountains.

The starlight hit my face.

Your shadow plays in my background.

I use the shoulder you gave me.

shoulder

The world you gradually let go.

Nostalgic Modern Poetry 3 (1)

On that frosty or snowy morning

You came back from a village five miles away to collect salt.

It's all white

Fill the most primitive memories in my mind.

Your eyes were still bright at that time.

At that time, your body was still very healthy.

(2)

I like following you to herd cattle.

In the fields in early spring.

The fragrance of the earth is everywhere.

In the warm sunshine

My young mind is particularly passionate.

I use melon seeds and grass in the field as quilts.

Lie on it and sleep lazily.

The sun went down.

You told me to go back.

I ran into the rape field.

Play hide-and-seek with you

(3)

The cicada cried.

Here comes the popsicle seller.

I saw you in the pipeline.

Take out a small pile of money

Count it, and you can get enough money to buy a popsicle.

You can only buy one at a time.

I asked you why you didn't eat.

You said you were afraid that ice would fall on your teeth.

Do you know that you are afraid to spend more money?

Do you know that you have no extra money to buy popsicles?

Because you've been in a broken car all your life.

Just before I arrived at the terminal, I had several full meals.

(4)

When frost forest was drunk

I will follow you to climb mountains and wade.

Looking for traces of wild fruit

Whenever some wild fruits are harvested.

When I'm full

You will try it yourself.

I asked you if it was delicious.

You smiled and said it was sweet.

And it costs nothing.

(5)

Is money really that important?

When I understand this truth,

Your eyes were in that winter.

Missed the best treatment time

Although your eyesight is getting worse.

But you're still herding cattle on crutches.

And mow the grass with crutches

And chopping wood with a cane.

It's just that you always have to take me with you.

Because I can show you the way.

From then on, I became your shadow.

(6)

I went to school.

I took a new book and asked you what was written in it.

You said with a sigh

Grandpa can't see clearly.

Even if you see it clearly, you can't see a few words clearly.

You should study hard and become a scholar in the future.

Then you turn around

I saw you wiping your eyes.

Is to wipe away tears.

You said it was sand.

My little heart.

I could feel your pity.

Since then, I have learned to care.

I will give you a Kazuhiro Mori bowl first at every meal.

Every time I eat watermelon, I will cut the middle piece for you.

Every time I buy a popsicle, I will buy you one.

I let you eat instant noodles once when you were a child.

I bought a TV at home and said I wouldn't watch it if I couldn't see it.

I pulled you and said, if you sit in the front, you can definitely see it.

You try to watch it for a while, and then say

You can see people's shadows and hear people talking.

I smiled

You cried.

(7)

When I was in fifth grade

I was admitted to the central primary school in the town.

I can't take care of you because I send you to school.

In the days to come.

Your health is getting worse and worse.

That cold winter night

You have a bad cough.

The family discussed to help you make a shroud.

That night, I hid under the covers and cried.

(8)

What are the regrets in life?

Maybe a lot.

In the days when you are struggling with the disease,

I see the fragility of life.

You have been moaning in pain that night.

You called my name many times and asked me to help you go to the toilet.

I held you patiently the first two times.

But in the early hours of the morning, you are still shouting.

I don't know whether the cold or sleepiness aroused my anger.

I rushed into your room.

Drag you out of bed.

There seems to be something cursed in his mouth.

Your eyes can't see.

I dragged you out of the room.

Only under the lamp

Feel your thin hands.

My heart calmed down again.

Slowly, I feel a little sour again.

I regret my behavior at that time.

I just didn't know this heart disease would last until now.

One autumn day after half a year.

You left in pain.

Listen to your mother.

You remembered my name when you died.

When I got home, I only saw your thin face.

That is the thinnest face I have ever seen in the world.

I didn't cry.

Maybe that's because you turned my sadness into strength.

You're gone

You don't have to mow the grass and herd cattle anymore.

But on the way to spring

I can still feel your breath.

You're gone

You don't have to save money to buy popsicles for me anymore.

But on a hot day,

I always think of those affectionate eyes.

You're gone

You don't have to accompany me to pick wild fruits anymore.

But in the harvest season,

I always think of that long-lost smiling face.

(9)

Tomb-Sweeping Day's mountain village

Accept the distant emptiness

I came to see you, grandpa.

Wandering in a foreign land for many years

Stop at this moment.

at home

I can burn you some paper money.

After leaving home

But it's hard for you to hang a blank sheet of paper.

I came today.

And your granddaughter and great-grandson.

Your great-grandson is very obedient

He knew that he would come to see his attendants.

So he personally picked a lot of wild flowers for you.

I believe you can wish him a safe growth.

I'm here too.

Grandpa under the grave

Please forgive me for breaking your heart in the last few days of your life.

Spring is getting warmer and warmer.

item

Tomb-Sweeping Day in the coming year

I will erect a monument for you.

Nostalgic Modern Poetry 4 From Childhood to Adolescence

I've always been attached

From youth to maturity

I always miss it.

Father hill's title

Always burning with the glory of summer

I used to use tender teeth.

Chew the branches of your soul.

I fell once.

Step on your heart of green wisdom

Father is a heavy word for you.

Support a colorful me.

The magnificent sky.

The wooden door of time stands in the dream.

horizon

The night bell of memory is accompanied by the wind.

Cooking smoke

Along the noble and fast highway

From hometown to city

Like a cheerful bird.

I flew from tree to tree.

Oh, father is far from the edge of the century.

From the city to the hometown

I knitted a beautiful wreath as a souvenir.

The grass of the years is wandering and spreading everywhere.

Oh, father, flowers bloom and fall.

Another whole year.

Climb the ladder of growth

From your son to your professional role.

I only know how to be proud of you, proud of you.

Write a sacred poem for you

Oh, father

July of that year was exactly nine years.

Standing by your side at the moment

I just want to use big love sign language.

Touch your tombstone a million times.

Missing of Modern Poetry 5 Qu Yuan is a sailor.

It takes more than two thousand years to swim across the Miluo River.

Drill from one vortex to another.

Fly from one wave to another

Calling, singing, shouting and anger

Fight against the suffering of Chu

Seeking Chinese civilization ......

Qu Yuan is a sailor.

It is said that he threw himself into the river to fight back against the darkness.

Sleep at the bottom of the Miluo River

Eternal life along the Miluo River

As a symbol of an era

Condensed into burning language

Splash into clear bile

Stir the blood of China people.

Let's walk into his feelings one by one.

We are so cohesive and kneaded together.

travel around the world

space trip

We are the waves and dragon boat drums of the Miluo River.

A heavy paddle

We are scrambling to paddle.

China keeps pace with the times.

It forms a

Great Wall of Fluid ......

Missing Modern Poetry 6 The less you go home, the more you miss.

Nostalgia-A Word Behind the Times

Like a countryman

Go to town like a countryman.

Use imagination to color things that are getting blurred.

I miss my hometown, but I don't want to

Let it precipitate the memory of ordinary people.

I only miss that part of my hometown: from Nanling.

From Liuxing Bridge to Beihe River.

To the Violet Factory (during the Chinese New Year, a few days?

Uncle Ben also went here and said there.

There is the ancestral grave of my hometown)

I only miss the morning when my mother was carrying water.

Hometown, handmade pancakes, zongzi, moon cakes.

In my hometown, the old farmer in the orchard drove away the children who stole peaches.

My hometown

I only miss my hometown.

There, "hometown" consists of one word.

It has become a land separated by national highways.

And a man pulling a trailer. at present

When I write, I miss my hometown.

The trailer puller has stopped working.

Like a machine.

Like a machine returning to the factory for maintenance.

Waiting for rebirth

I always feel exactly about myself-

"In order to write an outdated poem.

This machine, together with nostalgia, has been overhauled for a whole year. "

It has been seven years since my father died.

Father is a craftsman;

I have worked hard all my life.

His kindness; kind

I will never forget it.

Wind and rain hit; Despair;

Despair.

Looking at the fading dusk,

The autumn wind has taken away your voice and smile forever.

Think long; The soul is as transparent as water.

Look at the familiar figure in the photo;

I will often think of it; father

Prenatal indoctrination

It is said that the father loves the mountain; Love is infinite.

My father; Say no more.

Let me be full of feelings;

Father died suddenly; He is with infinity.

Memory and longing ......

Die with many regrets.

Before his father died; Once told,

You must take good care of your mother.

I will remember; Take care of your mother.

Mother was tired all her life;

It is not easy to raise me.

The moment my father left;

I am deeply saddened. ......

When the ocean of the mind interprets secular sadness,

Your heartbeat can guide your broad mind.

Close to you;

Holding the bright moon in the heart of the sea.

Pour out the cold soaked in years.

Listen to you again, from the lost years,

Another kiss and eager look back.

Long language; constant ......

Father;

My daughter misses you very much. ......

Missing of Modern Poetry 8 Missing of Mother

Another Mother's Day has arrived.

Mother of the world

Today will be immersed in happiness and happiness.

Blessing from afar

Comfort from around you.

My mother

But lying quietly on the barren hills.

Guarding the desolate pine forest alone

Can't see our smiling faces

Can't hear the sound of our blessing

I haven't heard from my child.

Forgive me for not going to your grave.

Send blessings and comfort.

Only in distant foreign cities

Pray for your soul in heaven.

Remember three years ago today.

The news of your critical illness came through the phone.

I hurried home.

What I saw was your lethargy before you died.

I want you to look at me again.

How I want to hear your voice again.

I didn't expect this to be the last farewell.

From then on, your voice and smile can only be found in dreams.

When I was young, my brothers and sisters were not very sensible.

You broke your heart for us.

In order to make a living, you pinch and scrape.

Pull us up.

You want us to live for a while.

You want us to be honest.

Today, all of us have got married.

give birth to babies and bring them up

We are not heartless children.

I also know what gratitude is.

We know it's time to repay.

But illness deprives you of the happiness you enjoy.

We brought delicious food. Rare fruit.

The doctor said that these have become taboos in your life.

We want you on the plane.

Look at the desert, the grassland, the snow in the north of Saibei.

Visit the coconut groves at the ends of the earth.

Unexpectedly, you are in a wheelchair.

In the last few years of my life

Repayment has become an empty talk.

What is left is a lifelong regret.

Two lines of sad tears.

A heart that will always be missed.

The tree wants to keep quiet, but the wind won't stop.

My son wants to serve his parents when they are old, but they are gone.

What else is there in the world?

So sad

Children of the world

If you have living parents,

What are you waiting for?

Give your filial piety quickly.

Could be a mansion

Maybe we can live in a cabin.

Maybe this is a greeting.

Maybe it's a text message from a distance.

Maybe tens of thousands of dollars.

Maybe it's a coin with a body temperature

As long as you feel this way

There is no difference in the scale of filial piety.

I have a nostalgic heart.

Write down this poem soaked with tears

To warn children all over the world

Soothe my guilty heart

Dedicated to my dearest mother

May she get some comfort in the spirit of heaven.

Miss Modern Poetry 9 Mother, when you are old and still alive.

My son never told you to your face.

Mom, thank you for raising us.

On the other hand, there are quarrels. At this time, mom.

You only respond with the brightness of your eyes.

Then, slowly got up and walked away.

But less than a minute.

I can hear you shouting: Dick

Why didn't you wash your socks?

Look at your book. What a mess!

It's time to find a wife for you.

I don't listen to a word the adults say.

Look what it's become. You still feel so small.

What to eat at noon? Let's eat noodles at noon.

I won't eat your noodle rice.

There are many sweet potato noodles in it.

Don't eat, don't eat, then what to eat?

I can't live at all.

If you put this in 58-

Okay, okay, mom, you can eat whatever you say.

Memories of modern poetry when listening to lullabies 10.

After thinking about it, I still think.

Mother is the embodiment of this lullaby.

With her selfless maternal love, it is simply

Is to make fun of her life

Can't stop playing until

Life stopped breathing and put mother

Recall the deeds of a lifetime.

I really can't sum up anything grandiose.

The mother at this time is most like a drop of water.

Like ten thousand drops of water in Qian Qian.

Moisten every seedling

Let the seedlings absorb all the water drops.

As a necessary nutrient for its growth.