Boys and children recite poems 1
perhaps
I am a child spoiled by my mother.
I am very self willed
I hope
Every moment.
As beautiful as colored crayons.
I hope
You can draw on your beloved white paper.
Freedom to paint clumsily.
Draw the next picture Never.
With tears in my eyes
A piece of sky
A feather and leaf belonging to the sky.
Light green night and apples
I want to draw the morning.
Draw dew
The smile you can see.
Draw all the youngest
Love without pain
She has never seen a cloud.
Her eyes are the color of a clear sky.
She always looks at me.
Forever, watch
Never turn around suddenly.
I want to paint the distant scenery.
Draw a clear horizon and water waves
Draw many happy rivers.
Draw a hill
Covered with faint fluff.
I put them together.
Let them fall in love.
Let every acquiescence
Every quiet spring throbs.
Turned into a little flower's birthday.
I also want to paint the future.
I haven't seen her, and I can't.
But I know she is beautiful.
I drew her autumn clothes.
Draw those burning candles and maple leaves
I paint a lot because I love her.
Extinguished heart
Hua wedding
Draw an early-rising festival.
There is cellophane on it.
And illustrations of northern fairy tales
I am a wayward child.
I want to sweep away all misfortunes.
I think on earth
Draw all the windows
Let all eyes get used to the darkness.
Accustomed to the light
I want to paint a style.
Draw a mountain higher than the last one.
Draw the desire of the oriental nation.
Draw the sea
Endless sweet sound
Finally, in the corner of the paper
I want to paint myself, too
Draw a koala
He sat in the dark jungle of Victoria.
Sitting on a quiet branch
stare blankly
He has no home.
There is no heart in the distance.
He only has, a lot.
Berry dream
And big eyes.
I hope
think
But somehow,
I have no crayons.
Don't get a color moment.
I only have me.
My fingers and pain.
Just shredded pieces.
Beloved white paper
Let them find butterflies.
Let them disappear from today.
I'm still a kid.
A child spoiled by an imaginary mother
I am very self willed
Boys and children recite poems II
In my dream, it was Huahua who talked to me with her lips. I picked up a little princess-like skirt and walked around among them, kissing this and touching that.
Oh, Huahua, Huahua, who would like to visit the little match girl with me?
The flowers gave a pink smile and stuck to my skirt, talking about the jingling of bells. We are all willing to visit her and send her happiness and warmth. ?
Did Grandpa Andersen also hear our conversation? How could he let the little match girl die? Maybe Grandpa Andersen gave you to me, the little match girl. Otherwise, how can we meet in the garden every night? I don't know whether you dreamed of me or I dreamed of you. In fact, I also want to take you away from the cold world with the help of magic matches in its beautiful flame. We sang songs, flew to the garden, put on skirts made of petals, ate sweet and delicious food, and let grandma accompany you. Garlands of flowers surround you, and they jingle like warm and happy bells ringing for you.
The flowers tinkled. In my dream, I told Huahua many touching fairy tales. The little girl selling matches made us feel that a happy life is hard-won, so we should cherish it! Let love warm every corner and the world will be better.
Boys and children recite poems 3
wild flower
Wild flowers are in the wild grass, one in the east and one in the west, like the face of an elf, smiling at my mother and me, with snow-white star flowers and golden sun flowers.
Elves have round faces. Trying to get them out of vilen.
We picked a lot and held it in our hands. Looking back, the wild flowers left behind are still things, or a lot.