The surging crowd left the capital, and the mountains were full of chaos. Three-point spring willow, a delicate skirt.
I opened the land last year and worked hard at this age. How much is the smell of traditional flow patterns and sandstorms?
Green window eyebrow Wu
Why change clothes and skirts? It's a beautiful day for Wei Yun. The levee is full of dust and people are boiling, and locomotives are diligent in government affairs everywhere.
Re-planting seedlings in the old hole, and shooting news on TV. Planting trees every year has become a seasonal scene, and the wind and sand are still foggy.
Fishermen sing at night.
I have lived in a building group for ten years and haven't heard of it for a long time. Memories of spring washing in Lipengmen, the smell of the market in front of me is steaming.
It's hard to find three or two points if you want to travel a hundred miles. Why should the driveway be green? Yan Zi is more diligent when going back and forth.
Liu Yong (He)
Jasper dressed as a tree, hanging down ten thousand green silk tapestries.
I don't know who cut the thin leaves, but the spring breeze in February is like scissors.
Poetry 1: persimmon tree
Say goodbye to summer, and your heart becomes soft.
Whitewash the fallen leaves in the autumn wind
You are as red and tender as a lantern.
Reflected in the dusk of countless layers of forest
Those who really understand you will always be.
Someone who fell in love with you at first sight.
When you have nothing, you will get lost.
Occasionally I will recall my life.
Like an accidental seed.
Or choose a tree carefully.
When the leaves fall in the afternoon, you will be surprised to find that.
A path at the foot is covered with the radian of shoes.
Night of Silence
Lonely, you like to think about human maturity.
Will you be as persistent as yourself?
Grow into a beloved head.
At a slowly aging age
You will also think of a naughty child when you were a child.
Broke his fragile shoulder.
That youthful and innocent childhood.
Once fell in love with an ordinary flower.
Fragrant-free
Yellow floret
Poetry 2: Trees
That's a big tree,
Can't germinate,
Can't blossom.
Semi-rotten roots,
Go deep underground,
Then the darkest water,
Support it and don't fall.
The wind saw it,
Also afraid,
Hide the roaring anger,
Just break a twig.
Lightning in the sky,
Also want to break it,
Smash more creatures,
I can only be angry with my cheeks.
That's a dead tree,
There are many roots,
Support it and don't fall.
Poetry 3: Cherry Tree
Be a lost cherry tree
Put the annual crimson
Don't hesitate to bury in
In the quiet green
The most magical moment
With the sigh of meeting by chance.
Rush past
expect
This is a bird that will not return from a long journey.
After tenderness
green
Is still the normal state of survival.
There will be wandering memories.
Growing restless green.
There will be a sudden day.
With an elegant glow.
Poetry 4: Old Sophora japonica
Old pagoda tree in memory
Growing up on that spacious dirt road
Get out of my backyard.
The summer sun sunbathes.
Leisure time of peasant families.
Come under the thick canopy.
Happiness spreads from here.
People have banana fans in their hands.
Sitting in my boyhood chatting.
Men are attached to the ground one by one.
Roll up your own dry cigarette.
Plumes of smoke gathered and dissipated.
Just like people gathered here.
Just like this idle night
Day after day
Year after year.
Women are always knitting.
That thread ball with no clue
How many girls have been provoked?
Flirt occasionally
Attracted the attention of many men.
It also enriches the monotonous life of the villagers.
There are a group of children like me.
Sitting around a small stone table
Enjoy the shade of trees
Write down the homework left in class.
Or take out the homemade willow flute.
Melodious music
Drifting along this dirt road
Poetry 5: Rubber Tree
Your thick lips, in the sun
If you are shy and blush, you will not bloom.
Purple flowers have four seasons of green.
Dedicate one thing silently, layer after layer.
I counted, forgot, I don't know.
Who is the last piece; One piece is heavier than the other.
One piece lasts longer than the other. probably
There are some things related to it, and people are the most sensitive.
In the famine years, those ornaments were picturesque.
Save a dying man in the storm.
Life. In my room.
Winter is not warm enough, you are in my absence.
Still lush, I once apologized.
Your roots reach into the sky.
Draw a little water and stick to green.
Is this a hope? Or wait?
Those pious thoughts in indifference
I am more respectful; Mourn for love
Loneliness becomes celadon. I may have overlooked you.
Life exists, but you will never forget it.
Me. This is a very subtle thing, such as the value of light.
No one knows and can't remember.
This era of emotional exhaustion
Poetry 6: A sturdy poplar
I growled at you.
You are so strong.
I yelled at you.
Break your body
I'm sorry to bother you.
I watched you from a distance.
You are so strong.
I accidentally
Break your obscurity
Sorry to bother you.
I stubbornly blocked you.
You are too persistent.
I'm your stumbling block.
Break your foundation
Sorry to bother you.
Poetry 7: To the Willow Tree
You don't have the majestic vitality of Song Qing.
but
I love you
Love you, swaying branches
Light smoke and willow shadow
You are not as tall and straight as poplar.
but
I love you
Love you, willow, smoky customs.
Old custom
Fold a willow to bid farewell.
Reluctance and sadness
Infinite melancholy
You shouldn't be a symbol of sadness.
You are affectionate and meaningful.
Willing to be your soil.
Hug you
protect you
Just as the passion of life is unrestrained.
Like to be in high spirits in passion.
It is also like unremitting pursuit in setbacks.
I love you-
Not only love your persistence and persistence.
I love you too.
The wind is light and the clouds are light, free.
The calm after the storm
Poetry 8: Felled Trees
Summer rose dusk
I walk on a quiet and flat path.
Walking into the forest, a cool breeze blew.
My foot, it's gone.
Me. Sitting on a newly cut stump
I can't see or hear anything.
It will be dark, the sky will be low, and there will be wings hovering.
The shepherd boy's flute has died away.