-Draw a circle
Painted at home and outside.
Everyone.
As soon as this season comes
This day
We stretched out our hands.
Polish it like a mirror.
We stroked its clear belly.
When it is hungry,
We break the moon cakes in the world.
Feed it.
On this day in August
This is a prime file.
Serve us.
Since ancient times
Rare silverware
Each of us is holding a sickle.
Or an axe
Hit it on the side.
Make it more round.
I'm afraid you will go abroad.
space
Or other planets
Probe head
Smell this bottle of wine.
That kind of alcohol
Let you reach the end of the horizon
Can't stop.
Mingyue Modern Poetry 2 Apart from whitewashing
You are more like a poet.
The orange and blue behind him.
Empty and deep
That's blue and ethereal.
Fishing fire is bright.
Is it the ethereal light song of Huaihe River in your ear?
Or Xunyang's pipa whimpers.
The long bell in Suzhou
Are you tired?
Just through the darkness.
Maybe you're looking forward to it
Dongli yellow flower
A faraway paradise
Maybe you're depressed.
The lost years are gone forever.
Accompany now
Just the western Western jackdaw on the branch.
The thin horse of the ancient road
Or a blue frost slab bridge.
This is still a three-two family.
Maybe you want peace.
So I indulged the steep and shining stars.
I still think you are gaining momentum.
For the next dazzling dawn
Moonlight Modern Poetry 3 Moonlight is like water.
Always smile
Stick your head out and see who fell from the sky.
Quietly chilling.
Light eyebrows do not understand amorous feelings.
A leaf covers your eyes. Close your eyes.
think it over
Those things in the flower season
Once upon a time, someone
Raise your head without saying a word.
It was a night.
distant view
Tears wet my eyes.
Chen Xing Anzai
One meteor after another.
Cut through the sky
Parting moment
Peach blossoms are in full bloom.
The mountains are green.
Essence foam
Sigh that Jiangshan is so good
uncomfortable
Time often passes by him.
Play like this
The night is deep.
Not language.
Just ask heaven
A big step
Always see the sky smile.
silent
Surrounded by birds and flowers
He's a little unstable.
If you can be intoxicated in this life
You can ignore it.
Everything around
Walking into the alley with a pot of wine in his hand
So we can travel through time and space.
The bright moon lit up the street.
water flowing beneath a little bridge
Green with little red flowers.
You can walk barefoot.
Bathe in the spring breeze
Are you listening to the piano in the distance?
Who is playing?
Maple leaves after rain
One by one.
More than half the sky
Who put the sword?
Yeah, he's really drunk.
Staggered wandering years
Turning around is a leap.
Look into the distance.
I sat down along the ancient Book of Songs.
In mid-August, willow branches dragged obliquely across the shore.
Gently touch a normal thought.
Time has opened the curtain of memory, brewing the meeting of flowers.
Under the ancient bridge, there are occasional awning boats crossing.
Standing on the other side, you have a beautiful brow.
I hurried back and bumped into your affectionate eyes.
Immigrants' hearts are uneasy and will never be forgotten.
And don't go to past lives, and don't go to the future.
In the years of shaking, the story will grow old inch by inch.
The residual temperature of the palm dragging will prolong the silence.
Keep an innocent and simple wet experience.
Just because, just because of the moonlight, there is our legend on the waterfront.
We used to think that the distant days are now between our eyebrows.
Warm and sweet, clean as water.
I am a beauty on the shore.
Come to Jiangnan and come to Bridge 24.
Continuous misty rain flooded the end of the bridge.
I stood in the cloister on the street corner and thanked you for your wonderful smile.
At the invisible end, we walked into the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River.
* * * Hold an oiled paper umbrella with a faint evergreen flag.
Surf in the micro-embellishment and listen to a gentle love.
Five biographies of Yue Ming's modern poems.
Peach blossoms are contemptuous, and the wind blows the petals.
The fish jumped out of the water and spat at me.
Birds are worse. Some bird droppings fell from the air.
Obviously, what's wrong with love
You hold me so close.
Even the matchmaker is a little jealous.
Do you still need a matchmaker for such love?
It's not just flower pickers who see it.
There are ferrymen and literati.
They seem to be booing and sighing.
Bright moon, bright moon, is it so cheap?
Your neck is a little tender and dry.
Your figure is a little thin.
You are a morbid beauty.
Don't I deserve to be a seven-foot man?
Spring gives you a pink face.
Don't waste rouge.
It is because of the Lins' blood.
Cry and bury flowers, tears in my heart
Xu Niang, your waist is very thin, and you are middle-aged.
Clear-cut, both fat and thin.
I want to lie on those hills in my dream.
Play a joke on the pig chasing Chang 'e.
You can use a spoonful of spring water.
Just, to the clouds and the wind.
They took back my eyes mercilessly.
Close to you, just to miss your moisture.
You are a bit like Yang Guifei, and I am not Xuanzong of Tang Dynasty.
You said I was Li Bai, and I couldn't see that you were thinking about clothes and flowers.
You don't belong to me.
It's just that I have wishful thinking about you.
Bright Moon Modern Poetry 6 1)
Qingqing is your collar, YY is my miss. If I didn't go to see you, didn't you get my letter?
Green is what you wear, and leisurely is my feeling. If I never visit you, can't you take the initiative?
Come on, always open your eyes, on this high tower. A day without seeing your face seems as long as March!
Reading a classic, tears flow into the sea.
Is it for the woman on the podium in the article?
Or sit in the yard and wait for my lover?
I really want to clear a book of songs and melt a pool of water.
Use me to cultivate your love. From then on, you are as elegant and clean as a lotus.
I really want to break a bright moon and make a treasure box.
Hold your hand and live in and never come out.
2)
In the breath of your soul, in the perception of my life.
I lost some time and saw you as quiet as a lotus pond and as soft as a breeze.
Dignified in the yard of your heart, accompanied by a camphor tree in the four seasons.
Looking forward to it for a long time, waiting for a long time, a breeze and familiar footsteps.
Even if my heart is bright, it will break into stars all over the sky.
The woman in my heart, hurry back to the brightly lit room.
Don't let the coolness outside make your youth beautiful.
You know, you and I said goodbye in a hurry in our last life, and if we make a mistake, we will miss this life.
Maybe, maybe only in this life can we wait until the next reincarnation.
3)
Keeping a solitary lamp makes my heart tired, my love tired and my face gaunt.
What blows into your window lattice is still the sigh of the breeze.
Can you still be willing to hold your initial piety in your hands and let trivial days
With the wind of the four seasons, slowly shake off the petiole of camphor tree in the yard.
When the green leaves wither, the years become as white as their sideburns.
No, the woman in my heart, in that case, my heart will hurt like a knife.
Youth is too short, life is too short. In such a short time, our love cannot but blend.
In order to meet in this life, even if my life is bent into a bow, I will give you an agreement.
Modern Moon Poetry 7 Desert Wind Blows Cold,
Corner painting is hoarse.
On one side of Qianliguan Mountain,
The sunset is like blood,
The shadow of loneliness was broken.
Ten years away from home,
Acacia half a lamp.
Why are yellow flowers everywhere?
Beauty is like a dream,
Do not break up.
Wine is not intoxicating,
Intense greed.
Looking at the bright moon, looking at the Han Pass,
Smoke and sand are rising,
Pity the sword.
The night is long,
The leader of the enemy will commit a crime.
There is no sign of poverty in Wan Li.
All I heard was standard hunting,
The momentum is like a mountain.
The moon takes pictures,
Blood spattered on Han Guan.
Yellow sand covers the sky,
How many people can return it?
May the night last forever,
In order to fight,
Stop sighing.
Ten years is like a dream,
This is a matter of life and death.
In today's beauty,
Whoever buries his bones in the desert,
How many people are going back to China?
Once I succeed,
Ten thousand bones are withered.
When I got home,
Blue hair and white hair,
As white as snow.
Back to my hometown,
The so-called brocade.
This mountain hasn't changed,
The water is still there.
However, the situation is different,
Both parents are gone.
The Iraqis are still there,
Beauty is not old,
But for his wife,
Half a century of youth,
Make a wish for who,
Who broke the oath,
Who took over this country?
Only a thousand miles from the mountain,
The light and cool moon.