A poem paying tribute to laborers in the name of youth.

The Poetry of Youth Youth is a song that never gives up. Youth is a never-ending river. Youth is a book that you will never get tired of reading. Youth is an endless cup of tea. Youth is a peak standing in the forest of nations. It engraved the footprints of thousands of young people in Qian Qian. Youth is a pagoda of knowledge, shedding the sweat of thousands of young people in Qian Qian. Youth is a thriving tree that has stood the test of wind and rain. Youth is a budding flower bud that wants to spread to the world. Show your unique charm and give yourself a youth gift with a passionate youth heart, that is, the poem of youth (1). It snowed in March, and my mother died in the sky, not only in the winter sunshine, but also in the figure of pigeons flying. The strings were broken, and I fell on the top of the mountain in the depths of Yuntao and cried. March is the season when flowers bloom, and my harvest is indeed the appearance of flowers falling and snow falling all over the world. Dancing with dead leaves, I sit on the ground and look up at the gate of heaven and the river that can't swim every night. The stars have disappeared from the ditch. Without the touch of the moon, I debug and fiddle with a thoughtful song on my own tears. (2) I secretly love watching you sow light green in my lonely autumn and grow into crazy spring grass. (3) My youth is dark in winter. No beautiful birds fly over lonely stagnant water, and no fish swim happily. I flew into the sky and looked down at the flower projected on the running water, and found it yellowed in the wind of years. Childhood is a complete mirror, while youth is a mottled leaf. Whose worries are all over the mountains? Who is sleeping with Baiyun? The cuckoo in spring sings every night, but what about the lost passion? (4) Bright March, bright March, the flower shadow shakes the green leaves. I opened the window, and the sun shone in and drove away the shadows. I hear the sound of loneliness and fracture, the silky broken youth that birds pass by. Isn't it my sadness that shines on the water? Forget all the wine I have drunk, forget the snow on the lost mountain road, and melt in this beautiful March. Let's listen to the whispers of flowers and dreams together. 2. You are my youth. You came gently, with a little naughty. You are so naive and hypocritical. You came quietly, with a little dream. You are so cute. You are faint, fresh is your temperament, and simplicity is your wealth. I wanted to hold you in my arms, but you cried. Therefore, I will no longer desecrate your purity. Just because you are my youth. 3. Youth is unintentional When I look back at the hand that waved behind me for a long time, I still can't see anything, only the leaves on the tree behind me are swaying gently in the wind < 2 > In these quiet days, I always look out the window silently and at the bare tree, which is the frozen wound of a single old man who spent the winter, while the lonely branches are naked and scattered, and a few birds are in the cold wind. The children are jumping under the eaves and looking here from time to time, but they are never far from their warm home. The sun is always pale and sighs in the dignified sky over and over again. After shaking your face again and again, there is nothing left. < 3 > There are still seven or eight stars scattered on the hay that has not fallen for a long time. A bird lay quietly in the grass, as if it had been dead for a long time, but it could not find the deep imprint it had left. The clear river is full of leaves, large and small, creating many traps in the wide valley. Stepping on the accumulated leaves carefully, I can tell the direction or find the time in an unusually gentle voice. I suddenly realized that this steel plate was originally made of some beautiful petals. Is it to pray for the song of the wind again for the yellow land that has been dry for 10 thousand years? Is it for the end of that song to help you drift again? Is it because a few years ago, the soul surpassed a banana that was originally far from the jungle? Is it because bananas are still wandering in the empty fantasy world? The sky is soaked in rain day after day and exhausted by the scorching sun, but it is blurred by dusty footprints day after day. How many times have tears filled the sea, but the environment in Wang Yang is getting worse and worse, and a brand-new bitter and salty life of human beings still surrounds the dam you stepped on. Dyke < 5 > sat by the river, sitting on the rough black sand, thinking about the vast wasteland. Huang Nitian has been away from home for a long time. Everything is gone. Hate silence is more accommodating than anything else. The footprints of the years have turned the black floating soil into a blank, and the two mouths have finally turned into a muddy dead sea. After millions of storms, it is still an immortal silence. < 6 > there was laughter in the distance, and the pages on the table were blown over by the wind. It seems that this is a distant snowfield in winter. . . . . . Those endless memories of youth, quietly sliding down the track of life, like a notch on the table. From this year to next year, we have recorded the joys and sorrows year after year, which proves that the joys and sorrows have left traces of our growth. Youth is a beautiful dream, but it will wake up one day. Youth is a small river, but it will dry up one day. Youth is a rainbow, but it will disappear one day. Youth is a blooming flower, but it will fade one day. Spring is the fine sand in your hand, which has been unconsciously lost. Youth is a meteor in the sky. Although beautiful, it is fleeting. Youth is the fragrance left by happiness. I want to cherish it. Shen Qing's youthful flowers and plants make me very tired, but I don't regret it. The rain and snow in the four seasons make me ecstatic but haggard. Light wind and green dreams, light morning sleep, light clouds and light tears, light years. With the joy of wandering, I will never come back. No one hinted at the dry taste of homesickness when I was young. I want to snuggle up to every golden sunset, and every drop of transparent dew washes away my sadness. I met her in full bloom in the distant spring, like a beautiful fairy tale filled with dazzling brilliance. Allow me, song for you. I can't sleep every night. Allow me to cry for you. I can fly freely in tears. The sky in my dream is very big, and I am lying on your eyelashes. There were many days in my dream, but I began to want to go home. On that blue hillside, I will bury all my songs and wait for them to become human legends one day. The bloom of youth makes me tired but I don't regret it. The rain and snow in the four seasons make me ecstatic but haggard. Tangled clouds, tangled tears, tangled mornings, wandering winds, wandering dreams, wandering years. Song of Youth (Prose): Sai Feng: When we plug in the wings full of sunshine and stay at the youth post, we will use Peng Pai's blood and hands to welcome the sun to open the door of light and hope. So the end of the journey to find youth has become a new beginning. The journey of youth makes us have too many pursuits, and finding and experiencing the light of youth has become an oath in our hearts. We have carried our ideals countless times, and set out with the midnight bell to pursue the glory of youth. Maybe we still have nothing, maybe the road of youth is still long, maybe the road ahead will be full of bumps and thorns. However, we can take our ideals as the classics and actions as the latitudes, and make unremitting strides toward distant goals. In the tunnel of time, we hope to drill out the blue sky with sharp eyes, and let the excited heart cross the boundless sky like a sharp arrow and shoot into the lofty universe. I hope that all travelers who are looking for youth like us will pack their bags and go to a distant and sacred destination to worship devoutly until the last moment of their lives. The call of youth makes our belief in hiking firmly rooted in our hearts, and the road of pursuit under our feet is as long as grass. Blowing the horn of youth, we are desperate to climb mountains and mountains, go forward bravely, and go to our destination as always. Like fish love the water, the green of life is as persistent as chasing the sun. We have no choice but to look for the home of youth. When we use hard sweat and Peng Pai's blood to create an ideal text to record or express the indispensable pursuit in life. All the hardships we have experienced have fallen into the soil like snowflakes. Once upon a time, we asked ourselves, is it because of the call of youth that the long river of life surged prematurely? So as to hold up the flying wings and impact the wind, rain and lightning. Is it because of the call of youth that the blooming ideal flower sticks to the other side of life? Even blooming bright colors has become a beautiful landscape in people's eyes. Don't forget a lot of insincere words. In fact, many youth journeys come by boat and go with the flow. Just like an expedition camel team, remember that the road ahead is still very long. Tinkling camel bells, you will know that the road ahead is immeasurable, and the process of crossing is the proof of pursuit. The bell of hope rings the time and space of dawn, and I believe that every morning sunshine will make the sky bright. I believe that the bright light of youth will certainly illuminate the unremitting pursuit of aspiring young people. Let's join hands and walk through the years in the sunshine, speed up the pace of youth and light up the ideal light hanging in our hearts. Sing a song of youth with love. "Prose on Earth" [Prose] "Youth" Youth Author: bug who loves to learn Date of submission: 2005-1-123: 35: 00 Somehow, I suddenly remembered the melody of "Youth", and remembered that when pomegranate blooms every year in college, it seems that it is on the school radio. For a time, the air was filled with the sadness of parting. Sometimes I stop and listen quietly. Although I can't tell the lyrics clearly, I still let tears fill my eyes quietly in the melody. Come on, Google, got it. Light clouds, light tears, light years, tangled clouds, tangled tears, foggy morning, drifting wind, drifting dreams, drifting years, with a little wandering joy. I like this lyric. Those words belong to youth, singing for youth, clouds, tears, wind, dreams, wandering. A guitar, a singer singing in the wind, can easily touch all the melancholy, confusion and sadness about youth in your heart. I still remember when I was a freshman, I always felt as if I had been sentenced to four years in prison. I don't know when I can graduate, and I can have real freedom. But how do you know that the best time is always the fastest? Looking back. As far as I can remember, only the fresh branches and leaves on campus are swaying in the new sunshine after the rain. I can't sit still in the classroom. I rode a broken bike sent by my senior, took my book to an island in the center of Gui Hu, read a book with a newspaper on the grass, and soon fell asleep in the sun with my book on my head. A gust of wind blew by the lake, and I suddenly woke up and didn't know where I was for a long time. Will there be such a happy time and carefree heart? I shook my head and sighed. In addition to sentimentality, it is still sentimental. So beautiful, so unforgettable, so easy to believe in love, so easy to cry for love, write one heart after another for love. This song fills the memory with the rhythm of youth. Spend your own time and wait for your own romance. Unconsciously, the pomegranate flower bloomed for the fourth time. We're leaving, too. Believe to be strong, I smiled and said goodbye to everyone at the school gate. Hug and joke about meeting tomorrow. Simple packing, I sat in a taxi. Suddenly, I completely lost control and burst into tears. Tears are like floods. Crying made a dozen people outside the car lose their composure. Through the window, we held hands in the rain of tears. I couldn't control it until my friend let the car start. Why am I crying? I have been trying to give myself an answer for years. I don't think I can give up this youth like a movie. I can no longer return to such a transparent mood and live a freehand brushwork life in a lush campus. When I left, I knew that everything I knew would never belong to me again. . . This time, my eyes are actually moist again. Then I remembered the big boy who always sang "Love Dust" with his guitar at the school's annual art festival or other activities. At that time, they were so young, straightforward and asked for nothing in return. When years and beauty have become a sigh in the dust, there are old tears in your sad eyes. I believe in the age of love, so I often recall it all my life, knowing that youth knows youth. It turned out to be such a bleak time until I spent my youth. I just know that youth is so sad and sad, even when I am happy. I just know that youth is the wandering of the sun and the moon, and I don't know why it has no purpose. Youth is ignorance of everything. Only after youth do we know that we are waiting and wandering, but what we are waiting for is youth. I just know that youth is not the face of spring flowers, nor the heart of first love. In the flickering candlelight of youth, I can't see the real face and heart; Youth is the dribs and drabs of tears by candlelight. Ah! Youth. I just know that the blessing of youth is not the prudence of fragrant prayer; Youth thinks that there is no need for blessing, and only after youth can we know the lonely road in the future. You can't wave your blessing. I just know that youth is a drop of tears, and it is a love affair that keeps pouncing, pouncing and pouncing. The rush of youth seems to have passed endless years. When it was over, I knew I could only jump into the air and say, Ah! Youth. I just know that youth is the cold rain hitting the window; The rain of youth is shaking tears that are about to overflow. However, youth does not know. Youth only knows the joy of cold rain and tears without chill. Youth is ignorant. I just know that the love of youth is only a moment like this, a moment I don't know why; It is not until after youth that I know that it is not love, but to embrace that clearly known youth. However, how can I say that youth is not a smile? The smile of youth used to be like the flash of the camera, jumping and flashing; The smile of youth is not happiness, but the happiness of thought; When youth is over, it is a hard time to spend. Only when I know that youth is an impossible dream; Wait until after youth to know that dreams will never be possible; Wait until after youth, only to know that it is impossible to return to youth. Although youth doesn't know those dreams, maybe it didn't really become a dream. I didn't know until after my youth that waking up was really a deeper dream. Youth is a lighted cigarette; After youth, cigarette butts are still in the shape of fireworks, but embers can't stand a blow and a shock, only to know that youth is a strong expression of sadness; Waiting until after youth is a kind of intense self-suppressed sadness. After laughing, there is a pause. Ah, youth, wait until after youth, I know. ...