Falling leaves - the poem of the index finger
Index finger
I picked up a fallen leaf
looked at it thoughtfully
p>The wrinkles are deep on the shriveled leaves
The veins on the back look like swollen veins
There is no golden color
Just a blue-grey leaf The face
It was once so full and bright
The dark green leaves shine with hope
There is a fierce argument in the storm
Under the scorching sun The shade is comfortable and cool
Now driven by the cold current of fate
It looks like an old entertainer
curling up and wandering along the street
Shivering bass singing
The tree in front of my window - "101 Poems of Robert Frost: Translation and Annotation (Part 1)"
Robert Frost Special American Poet
Tree in front of my window, window tree,
I draw down the window late at night;
But I will never close the curtains ,
Put a layer of cloth between you and me.
Your top rises out of the ground like a dream,
It spreads out at a high place close to the clouds and sky;
Not all your lofty words,
It’s all very profound and difficult to understand.
But tree, I have seen you being torn and shaken;
If you had glimpsed me when I was sleeping,
then you would have seen me too. Living through my confusion and sorrow,
I almost gave up on life because of it.
That day, fate made us lie side by side.
The goddess of fate often has her own unique intentions;
But all you care about is the wind blowing from the outside world. Frost hits,
But what I worry about is the ice, snow, rain and fog in my heart.
Lian's Thoughts - Selected Poems of Xi Murong
Xi Murong
I am a blooming summer lotus,
many Hope you can see it now.
The wind and frost have not yet come to erode,
The autumn rain has not yet dropped.
The green season has gone far away from me again.
I am now tall and graceful, not worried or afraid.
Now, it is,
the most beautiful moment,
the heavy door has been locked,
behind the fragrant smile ,
Who knows what I, Lian, am thinking.
You who have no chance,
Either you come too early, or,
It’s too late...