Modern poetry describing the vernal equinox (2)

15. "Spring Equinox"

Who is it?

Who makes Kapok smile so brightly?

Who is it?

Care for you with the tenderness of mist,

The green tree buds stretch,

Spring is here.

The moss on the small bridge,

Looking at the boy winding the coil,

Can’t help but be impatient,

It’s three On the third day of the month, the sky is filled with flying kites.

Lovers are the best interpretation,

The surge of spring tide,

Moisturizing,

Not just the eyes .

Only a hard-working housewife,

uses an iron to rub away wet worries,

also has to use eyes,

to tie them down Girl

The longing for joy in the rain.

Spring is here.

16. "To the Thawing Wind"

Text/Frost

Oh, the noisy southwest wind, come with the rain!

Bring singers, bring nest-builders;

Give dreams to buried fallen flowers;

Let the stable snow bank transpire;

Please find the brown beneath the white;

But what you do tonight,

Wash my windows, please let it flow,

Melt it after the snow has gone;

Melting glass leaves sticks behind

Like a hermit’s cross;

Please break into my narrow space The stable;

Please shake the paper paintings on the wall;

Turn over the chattering pages;

Please disperse the poetry on the floor;

And drove the poet out of the door.

17. "The Last Lesson"

Text/Chen Xianfa

The spring at that time was dense and difficult to stir, and the wild rapeseed flowers

Over the mountains and ridges. The sweet buzzing of bees hangs in the bright vision

The lonely small hydropower stations in thirteen provinces are all generating electricity. And she

still didn’t come. You are holding Murabe's black rocker phone

Your lips are purple and trembling. You look much thinner now

than you did in the fifties. Still wearing a blue khaki tunic suit

Her hair is parted, and chalk dust falls on her thick eyebrows

She has to teach the sick girl one last lesson before sunset.

You hold a paper umbrella and walk through the silent fields in late spring. As a person who has passed away for many years, you are very light and the mud will not splash on your trousers

18. "Spring is here, and the moon is high in the sky."

Text/Fernando Pessoa

Spring is here, and the moon is high in the sky.

I think of you, and my heart is intact.

A gentle breeze blew towards me through the hazy wilderness.

I think of you and whisper your name. I am no longer me: I am happy.

Tomorrow you will come, take a walk with me and pick flowers in the wilderness.

And I will walk with you in the wilderness and watch you pick flowers.

I have seen you picking flowers with me in the fields tomorrow,

But when you come tomorrow, you will actually walk and pick flowers with me,

For me, that would be a joy, a novelty.

19. "February..."

Text/Pasternak

February. Cry with ink!

In mourning for February

Looking for words, when the roaring mud

ignites the black spring.

Hire a carriage for sixty rupees

Through the sound of wheels and church bells

To a place noisier than ink and cries

< p>Go in the pouring rain.

There were countless rooks there like burnt pears

They were picked up from the branches by the wind,

They fell into the puddles, suddenly

Sadness sank into his eyes.

Below, black is exposed from the melting snow,

The wind is plowed by the scream,

The more accidental, the more real it is,

Weeping bitterly becomes a poem.

20. "Sonnets to Orphus·Part 2·Twenty-five"

Text/Rilke

Listen , you have heard the earliest rake

leveling the land; it is this human rhythm again

penetrating the solid early spring earth

The breathless silence. What is coming is new to you.

It has been here many times,

You feel that it has become brand new again.

Always hope for it, you never

possess her. It is she who possesses you.

Even the winter oak leaves showed the brown color of the future in the dusk.

The breeze sometimes sends a signal.

Black bush. But the fertilizer accumulated on the river beach is darker and thicker.

Getting younger with every passing moment.

21. "Spring Equinox Season"

The earth's air warms up, the cold air is discharged from the body, and you feel comfortable and comfortable

The power of the seasons promotes the quiet evolution of spring, summer, autumn and winter

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When good things bloom, love and praise can be expressed to your heart's content

When there are evil lesions, don't cover your nose and pass them by, just bury them as fat

Spring is misty, and you can see flowers in the mist , also look at the coldness

Some people say that with fog, the flowers look more beautiful, with a hazy and mysterious beauty

The coldness does not look so bad, from a distance

Some people were impatient and said they were really ruined, so they turned around and left

The spring breeze is gentle, more like the Chinese Tai Chi wind

Slowness is not weakness, it is not wanting to hurt stubbornness

Catalysis, hypnosis, urging, unexpectedly I was awakened

Pushed into the torrent of time, struggling busily

The spring rain cleans, washes away the smoke and dust, hoping to wash away the world Sickness and malice

There are tears in the stamens, but I don’t know why they fell

I don’t know who frightened the flowers.

Colorful colors are a dream in the world, and they happen every year, but Not every day