Modern poems related to trees are as follows:
1. It is a big tree, which can't germinate and bloom. Semi-rotten roots go deep into the ground, and then the darkest water supports it from falling down. When the wind sees it, it is also afraid, hiding its roaring anger and breaking only a little branch. The bent lightning also wants to crush it and more creatures, but it can only be angry and red-faced. It is a withered tree with many roots, which will not fall down.
2. Be a stray cherry tree and bury the annual crimson in the silent green without hesitation. The most amazing moment, I had a sigh of meeting by chance, and I passed by in a hurry, expecting that I was a bird that didn't return in the distance.
after tenderness, green is still the normal state of existence, and there will be restless green in the memory of wanderers. There will be a sudden day, flashing elegant blush.
3. I growled at you. You are so strong, but I yelled at you and broke your body. I'm sorry to disturb you. I watched you from afar. You were so strong, but I inadvertently broke your obscurity. I'm sorry to disturb you. I stubbornly blocked you, you were so persistent, but I blocked you and broke your foundation. I'm sorry to bother you.
4. The south is a miserable epiphytic tree for me, and the south is a rib broken by a witch. Another bone is full of girls' wildflowers, just like my life of washing my hands in the rain. The ancient legend that peanuts grow grass, peach blossom love letters, the sorrows and joys of scalding horses are intertwined, the darkness wraps your soft body and matures, and tears hold the prince's rich happiness and melancholy.
Epiphyte tree climbs the miserable Otto, Epiphyte tree, the princess in September occupies my inner territory, and the wolves are angry at the full moon soaked in white bones. In a rage, I whipped the loneliness of a suicidal drinker.
5. In the evening of roses in summer, I walked on a quiet and plain path and walked into the forest. A cool breeze passed and my feet disappeared. I'm sitting on a newly cut stump. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. It will be dark, the sky is low, wings are wandering, and the flute of the shepherd boy has faded away.